PR2411.

W28 1904
A warning for fair women.

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http://www.archive.org/cletails/cu31924013127331
A WARNING -§*tt^:
FOR
j^^
>CIJ
FAIR WOMEN.
 A WARNING
FOE

FAIR WOMEN.
o5*;o

®«tti>, ®it^ ^n Introbntlion ^nH "gatte

BY
A. F. HOPKINSON.

FOR PHI 7 ATE CIRCULATION.

M. E. SIMS & Co.,

BELANCE}- STREET, CAMDEN TOWN.
1904.
S
c6
\^'^\7^Z°[
 OTEODUCTION.

WAENING FOE FAIE WOMEN was entered on

J^ the Stationers' registers Nov. 17, 1599, by William
Aspley. It must have issued from the press almost im-
mediately, as the following title-page sufficiently shows;
A Warning for Faire Women, containing The most Tragicall
and Lamentable Murther of Master George Sanders of Lon-
don, Marchant, nigh Shooters Hill; consented unto by his
owne wife, acted by M. Browne, Mistress Drury, and Trusty

Soger, agents therein; with their seuirall ends. As it hath

beene lately diuerse times acted by the right Honorable the
Lord Chamberlaine his Seruantes. Printed at London by
Valentine Sims for William Aspley. 1599. 4to. b. 1.
There was no transfer of copyright, nor was there an-
other edition issued until 1878, when Mr. E. Simpson
published a verbatim reprint of the old quarto in vol. ii
of his School of Shakespeare. Mr. Simpson did not divide
the play into acts or scenes, and retained the old spelling.
In 1 893 I made an 8vo. reprint of the play, and divided
it into acts and scenes, and also marked the location of
the latter. In Sep. 1901 Prof. G. H. Camerlynck col-
lated my reprint with the old copy in the Dyee collection
ii A WAliMKG FOR FAIR WOMEN.

at South Kensington, and discovered two or three un-

important omissions and misreadings. In the present
edition these liave been inserted or corrected, and are
duly mentioned in their proper place in the notes at the
end of the play. Mr. Collier gives a brief notice of the
play, with a few extracts, in his History of Dramatic
Poetry, vol. ll. 440-1 an exhaustive and appreciative
;

examination of it will be found in Mr. J. A. Symond's

PredecesHors of Shahspere, and short articles in Mr. Fleay's
Life of Shakespeare, and A Biographical Chronidc of the
English Drama.
A Warning for fair Women belongs to that class of
dramatic composition which Mr. Collier appropriately
describes as '
domestic tragedy' ; that is, an appalling
crime was committed which made a great stir in the
country, and fur some cause connected with it, excited
the popular interest. The theme was at once seized by the
dramatist, or ballad-maker, and worked up often hastily —
—
and indigestibly with all its naked realism, into a play
or a ballad. Probably ballads were written on the events
dramatised in A Warning, but if there were they have not,
unfortunately, come down to the present time. Beside
this play, there are several other noteworthy specimens
of tliis class of domestic drama extant, viz., Arden of
Feversham, A Yorkshire Tragedy, — both attributed on
substantial grounds to Shakespeare — and Yarrington's
Tioo Tragedies in One; others of the same description,
such as Page of Plymouth, The Bristol Tragedy, The Step-
mother's Tragedy, and the Tragedy of John Cox of Col-
lumpton, were written and probably acted, but only the
bare titles have descended to us. Some of these plays,
 INTRODUCTION.

as in the case of Arden and A Warning, were not written

until several years after the commission of the crime;
Page of Plymouth and A Yorlcshtre Tragedy,
others, such as
were founded on crimes of comparatively recent Jccur-
ance. Accounts of the perpetration of the class of crimes
such as the above tragedies are based on, are, from an
early date, frequently mentioned in the annals of our
criminal jurisprudence.
Date of writing. A H-^aj-MMg' was published in 1599, but
it is manifestly a much older play by some years.VI have
not succeeded in finding any internal note of time that
will enable one to positively fix the date of production.
Such internal evidence, however, as can be gathered, viz,

the structure of the blank verse, the introduction of alle-i

gorical personages, the chorus and elaborate dumb-show '

before each act —which

seldom appear in plays written '

after 1590 —
all point conclusively to an early date. The
title-page says the play appears as it hath been lately
'

divers times acted by the Lord Chamberlain's servants',

which may be quite true in point of fact ; but the scrap
of evidence is not of much value, for the title-pages of
other plays show that the term was construed in a very
lax way, and might mean five, ten, or more years back,
besides the fact of its having been lately acted does not
prove that it was lately written, and therefore is not of
much service in fixing the date of production. To sup-
pose it was written only a short time before its publica-
tion in 1599 is palpably erroneous —the play must be
'

dated at least nine or ten years earlier. Mr. CoUier and

Prof. A. W. AVard agree in assigning an early date
the former says shortly before 1590. Mr. Collier has
 iv A TVASNING FOJR FAIR WOMEN.

sought to fix the by the mention in

date of an old ballad
it Exchange, which is stated
of the business hour on the
to be 'twixt twelve and one the hour during the latter
;

years of Elizabeth's reign and the early years of James

I's, was between eleven and twelve. Haughton's comedy,

Englishvien for my Money, printed in 1616, but written in

or about 1598, shows that the merchants then attended
'Change at eleven o'clock and dined at twelve. In A
Warning mention is made of Mr. Sanders attending the
Exchange both in the morning and at night ; the fol-
lowing passage from ii. 3 is evidence in point :

'
Roger. First know
That in the morning, till 'twas nine o'clock,
I watched at Sanders' door till he came forth ;

Then followed him to Cornhill, where he stayed

An hour talking in a merchant's warehouse.
From thence he went directly to the Burse,
And there he walked another hour at least.
And I at's heels. By this it struck eleven.
Home then he comes to dinner.'

» Here the business hour on the Exchange is pretty

clearly indicated— from ten to eleven o'clock. If this
evidence be of any value, it goes to show that A Warning
must have been written some years before Haughton's
play, although I do not consider it conclusive ; neverthe-
less the point is worthy of consideration.
There is an-
other item of time evidence which should be mentioned.
In iv. 2, Master James tells a story of a woman, who had
murdered her husband at liynn, being so conscience
striken at witnessing a play on a similar subject, that
she there and then confessed her guilt. The same story
 lATHODVCTIOK.

is told by Heyuood in his Ajwlogy for Actors, 1612, and

a 6crap of stage history is given which is not mentioned
in A Wur-ni'i.fj. Ileywood says: — 'At Lin in Norfolk,
the then Earl of Sussex' players acting the old History of
Friar Frwiic/s, and pre^tnting a woman, who insatiately
doting on a young gentleman, the more securely to enjoy
his affection, niischieviously and murdered her secretly
husband,' etc. Here the and the
play. Friar Francis,
company who acted it, Sussex', are mentioned, and for
the purpose of settling the point it becomes necessary to
enquire when the 'old History of Friar Francis' was pro-
duced, and which Sussex' company was it that played it.
Unfortunately the play is non-extant and very little is

known about it; that found in Henslowe's Diary,

little is

where an entry is made of the play being acted at the

Eose theatre by Sussex' men. There were three per-
formances, the first being on Jan. 7, and the last on Jan.
20, The marginalia, n. e. i.e. new interlude
1.593. \, —
which Henslowe usually affixed to a new play, is not
attached to this entry. The Sussex' men who performed
the play in agreement with Henslowe, played under the
patronage of Henry Eatcliffe, Earl of Sussex they ;

sprang into existence about 1591 being composed prin- —

cipally of the actors who had formed the Queen's players
—and ceased to exist as a definite theatrical company
somewhere about 1593. If this was the company that
acted Frtar Francis in Lynn, which had such effect on
the conscience of the guilty woman as mentioned in iv. 2
of A Warning, it clearly demonstrates that the play could
not have been written until after Jpu^]^593. I do not
think it was this Sussex company who acted the play at
yi A l^ARNINO FOR FAIR WOMEN.

Lynn. There was an earlier set of players belonging to

Thomas Eatcliffe, Earl of Sussex, who was Lord Cham-
berlain from 1576 to 1583 ; the existence of this company
liesbetween 1577 and 1683, and I believe these are the
players that acted Friar Francis at Lynn. Heywood
speaks of the play as the old History-, and that will prob-
ably explain the absence of n. e. against Henslowe's
entry; the performance at the Eose in 1593 was no
doubt a revival. Heywood does not say which company
itwas; his words are 'the then Earl of Sussex' players';
tlie probabilitj' is he did not know, and was too indolent
to enquire ; that he here wrote in a loose, shilly-shally
way is proved by his story of the Four Sons of Aymon.
That play — also —
non-existent was written by Robert
Shaw and the story connected with it, related so
in 1602,
circumstantially by Heywood iu 1612, appeared in A
Warniny for Fair Women published in 1599. See the
story told by tlie Mayor of Rochester in iv. 2. If I am
right in concluding that Friar Francis was acted at Lynn
—
by the earlier Sussex' company and my conclusion is
—
supported by tlie opinion of Mr. Collier then the latest
date limit for writing A Warning would be the end of
1590. In my former reprint I set down the date of pro-
duction as 1588-9; but I find I had not then sufficiently
studied the bearing of Heywood's statement on the evi-
dence, and was further misled by supposing the play to
have been first acted by the Queen's men at the Theatre.
Under these circumstances I think the evidence already
given warrants me in fixing the date of writing towards
the en^d of 1589 or early in 1590 — a year later than my
previous decision.
 INTRODUCTION.

Stage history. — Production on the stage would, no

doubt, immediately follow writing of the play, but, as in
the case of writing, the evidence as to the company who
presented it, and the theatre where it was performed, is

meagre and unsatisfactory. The evidence as to date of

writing, if itbe accepted as sound, proves that the state-
ment on the 1599 title-page could not have referred to
the first production on the stage. I do not doubt that
the Chamberlain's —
men Shakespeare's company acted —
the plaj', must have been between 1594 and the
but it

time of publication, and in that respect the announce-

ment that it was lately' acted by them may be true
'

they probably obtained possession of the play from

Pembroke's men between the above-mentioned years. In
mj' previous reprint 1 thought the play must have been
produced by the Queen's company at the Theatre but I ;

have since changed my opinion, and now, judging by

such evidence as can be brought to bear on the point, I
think it must have been presented by Pembroke's men
at the Curtain in the season 1689-90. The evidence is

largely conjectural, and depends to some extent on the

right or wrong interpretation of an obscure stage direc-
tion in the play itself. In iv. 3, the following direction
occurs: 'Enter Mayor, Browne, a Messenger, another, and
M. Humphrey.' For a long time this M. Humphrey
puzzled me, and I could not understand who he was, or
what bearing he had upon the scene the matter was ;

further complicated by his saying or doing nothing in

this scene or in any other part of the play, and in the
end I was reduced to the conclusion that he was some
functionary in attendance on the Mayor of Eochester. I
viii A It'AItMXG FOR FAIR WOMEN.

am now inclined to interpret the mysterious name as in-

tended for Master Humphrey and suggest
Jeffs, an actor,

in explanation of the hlundfr, that the name was marked

on the margin of the playhouse iSiS. which the printer,
through carelessiie!<B or ignorance, incorporated with the
text. Instances of such mistakes are not infrequent in
our old plays the same thing occurs in 3 Hen. VI, iii. 1,
;

and in the Induction to Marston's Malcontent. Humphrey

Jeffs was a member of Pembroke's players from 1589 to
1597. If this conjecture be correct, and I do not see how
the circumstance can be otiierwise explained, it goes a
long way towards proving that A
Warning must have
been first played by Pembroke's men. There is nothing
to show that Humphrey Jeffs was ever connected with
the Chamberlain's men, the only (jther company that has
been suggested or could possibly have played A Warning.
In 1589-90 Pembroke's men occupied the Curtain, and
in my opinion that is the theatre where this play was
first performed. Of its later stage history nothing is
known beyond the fact that it was revived by the Cham-
berlain'smen sometime before 1599, the year in which
it was published how it got from Pembroke's men into
;

the hands of the Chamberlain's I am unable to explain

but at that time plays frequently changed hands. The
probability is, A Warning was never a very popular play
either on the stage or in the
reading-room this, I think;

is shown by the that only one early edition was

fact
issued ; in this respect it contrasts rather unfavourably
with a kindred play, Arden of FeversJiam, of which three
editions were called for in forty years.
Authorship. A Warning was published anonymously,
 lyTRODUCTIOy.

and no tradition appears to have descended as to who

was the author. The first to indicate the authorship was
Edward Phillips who, in his Theatrum Poetarum, 1675,
ascribed it to John Lyly. Upon what foundation he
made the ascription, or whether he was merely acting on
some current tradition is unknown ; he only mentions the
play, among Lyly's other known plays, without giving
any reason for the assignment. This would seem to show
that at the time Lyly was known or generally accepted
as the author. Winstanley and Wood also give the play
to Ivj'ly. but I think they were merely following Phillips
rather than acting on any independent testimony or
original research. Here, however, is a direct imputation
of authorship, and the claim must be examined on its

own merits. After a careful examination of Lyly's plays,

I am unable to find any evidence that would warrant me
in endorsing the ascription of Phillips, or the support
given to him by Winstanley and Wood. Occasionally
the phraseoh)gy in A Warning does resemble the phrase-
ology in Lyly's comedies, but in every other respect there
is a marked distinction between this play and Lyly's ;

the method, thought, expression, the evolution of plot

and character are quite different to his well-defined style.
Fairholt rejects the work from his edition of Lyly, I
think rightly, and the only value attached to the ascrip-
tion is that it shows there was ground, in the middle of

the seventeenth century, for believing the play to be of

early date.
Mr. Fleay dates the play 1598-9, and attributes the
authorship to Thomas Lodge in support of the ascrip-
;

tion he suggests a comparison between the Induction to

X AM AJiMNG FGlx FAIR WOMEN.

A Warning, and the Induction to Mucedorns, a play also

attributed by him to Lodge. These Inductions are worth
comparing, but I do not recognise or admit the similarity.
This mistake, I think, arises from insisting on too late a
date of writing, coupled with the fact that there was no
other dramatist, except Shakespeare and Jonson, writing
for the Chamberlain's men at that time (1598-9), to
whom it could be given. I do not regard the ascription
of this play to Lodge as a satisfactory settlement of the
question of authorship, and therefore dismiss it with that
of Phillips, Winstanley, and Wood. As in the case of
Lyly there is a certain resemblance in the play to Lodge's
phraseology (sume instances are given in the notes), but
beyond that I have failed to di8C(jver anj' resemblance,
either in tone or style, to Lodge's work, judging by his
known productions.
If internal evidence be of any value, I think there is
ample testimony to warrant the ascription of A Warning
to Thomas Kyd. This was my opinion in 1893, and a
continued study of the play has endorsed it. All of his
plays were published anonymously, and the date sup- —
posing my hypothesis of 1589-90 as the time of writing
be correct — would fit in with his period on dramatic
activity. The fact that it was not printed till 1599 can-
not reasonably weigh against this hypothesis ; many
plays were not printed until years after they were written
— e.g. The Birth of Merlin, written c. 1622, pub. 1662.

Apart from these considerations there are many coin-

cidences in it, as regards tone, style, method of work,
etc., which agree with Kyd's known style— a style that

is, perhaps, more strongly marked in him than in any

 mriioDvcTioN.

other Tudor dramatist. All of his plays ahound, more or

less, in allegorical personages, chorus, dumb-show, mur-
der, bloodshed and lust. These characteristics appear
as a fundamental part in the structure of A Warning. In
this play occurs the rare circumstance of an execution
actually taking place before an audience ; this is paral-
leled in Kyd's Spanish Tragedy, iii. 6, where Pedringano
is o£P' by the hangman.
'turned The Spanish Tragedy
was intended by Kyd to be in four acts, each act having
before it a chorus A Warning, also, was intended by its
;

author to be in four acts, each act being preceded by a

chorus and- dumb-show, which stops at the fourth act.

The Elizabethan versions of Seneca's Thebais and Octavia

were in four acts. Thomas Nash twitted Kyd with being
a famished follower of Seneca, and the Senecan element
in his plays to some extent justified the sarcastic sneer.
This Senecan element enters largely into the composition
—
of A Warning especially in the choruses, and is em-
ployed in much about the manner as Kyd used it. Kyd
was addicted to the use of alliteration the same idiosyn-;

crasy is developed in A Warning. Kyd had a set of pet

— —
phrases incident to each play which he trotted out
and repeated at every opportunity the same thing ;

occurs in A Warning. Kyd was a firm believer in the

doctrine that murder will out, and that Justice would be
triumphant in the end this is iterated and emphasised
;

throughout The Spanish Tragedy ; a few examples will

suffice.

'
Murder cannot be hid ;

Time is the uiithor both of truth and right.' ii. 5, 58-9.

'
For blood with blood shall be satisiied.' iii. 6, 36.
xii A WAliMNG FOE FAIR WOMEN.
'
Ay, heaven will be revenged of every ill

Nor will they suffer murder unrepaid.' iii. 13, "2-3.

In The Murder of John Brewen, a prose tract by Thomas

Kyd, the same thing is found thus ;
:

'Yet the blood of the just Abel cried most shrill in

the ears of the righteous God for vengeance and revenge
on the murderer.'
Again :

'
The Lord give all men grace by their example to shun
the hateful sin of murder, for be it kept never so close,
and done never so secret, yet at length the Lord will
bring it out ; for blood is an incessant crier in the
ears of the Lord, and he will not leave so vile a thing
unpunished.'

In A
Warning the belief in this doctrine is expressed
in just thesame manner, and leaves scarcely a doubt but
that the expression emanated from the same mind. The
following lines parallel what has been given above.
'
Let blood be paid with blood in anj' man.' iii. 5, 45.
'
Measure for measure, and lost blood for blood.' iv. d. s. 3a.
'
Heaven will have justice shown.' iv 1,37.
'
Heaven will take due revenge on murther.' iv. 5, 35.

In A Warning, iv. 3, stories are told of the effect pro-

duced on the conscience of a guilty person by the repre-
sentation of a murder play ; in aU probability the same
thing occurred in the early Hamlet, as it does in the later
version,and there seems a growing tendency to the belief
that Kyd had a hand in that performance. There is a
great similarity between the Induction to A Warning,
and the Induction to Kyd's Soliman and Perseda, and the
resemblance is not merely verbal. The Induction is given
in the Appendix, so the opportunity for comparing wiU
 INTRODUCTION.

be in the reader's hand. In A Warning there are several

scenes which Mr. J. A. Symonds very appropriately
terms bye-scenes, that is, scenes which have no particular
bearing on the conduct of the play yet are a part of it

these scenes are ii. 2 (the part with Old John, his maid,
and John Beane), iii. 2, 4, and iv. 7. Kyd was addicted
to the same thing, cf. The Spanish, Tragedy, i. 1, 2, and
Soliman and Perseda, i. 5. Kyd was born to the trade of
'
noverint', and perhaps spent a few years in the office of
his father who was a scrivener ; in A Warning, iv. 4, the
indictments of Browne, Anne Sanders and Drury, with
their legal jargon, points to the probability of their
having been drawn up by one accustomed to copying
legal documents. AU Kyd's plays, with the exception of
his translation of Garnier's Cornelia, were issued anony-
mously 80 WMS J. Warning. Kyd, like Shakespeare,
;

was comparatively free from that gross indecency which

disfigures so much of the work of the old dramatists ; in
A Warning there is the same freedom from indelicacy.
The phraseology of this play strongly favours the as-
cription of it to Kyd ; many instances of similarity in this
respect will be found in the notes. Of itself I do not
attach supreme importance to the identity of phraseology
in determining authorship, but where it is supported by
such evidence as that given above, I think it carries a
preponderating weight, and forms the last lint in the
chain of conviction. Kyd's tract. The Murder of John
Brewen, tells the story of a crime similar to that on which
A Warning is founded, and in each case the motive is the
same. The cumulation of these similarities and paral-
lelisms goes far towards proving a consanguinity of
xiv A liARiSINO FOR FAIR WOMEN.

authorship, and in the face of such evidence I do not see

how it is possible to avoid the conclusion that Kyd was
the author of this play, [n my first reprint I inclined to
the opinion that A Warning had
received some touches
from Shakespeare when was revived by the Chamber-
it

lain's men before 1599 I now withdraw that opinion,

;

and believe the play to be entirely by Kyd. Of course if

it can be proved that the play was written after 1594, it

would overturn my theory and show that Kj'd was not

the author, for he is supposed to have died in or about
that year.
Versification. — As regards versification, Kj-d, in some
things, followed the example of his predecessors and
contemporaries, and in others he was ahead of them.
He followed their vogue in the liberal use of rhyme in
the early part of his career, but as he proceeded rhyme
gradually decreased ; in his last play, Soliman & Perseda,
withatotal verse lines of 1801, there are only 78 rhymed
low proportion when it is remembered that it was
lines, a

a rhyming age. In the handling of blank verse he was

far ahead of his contemporaries there is a strength and
;

freedom about it only surpassed by the blank verse of

Marlowe and Shakespeare. In the use of an unstopped
lineKyd was again in advance of his fellow dramatists,
and also progressive. But the most remarkable feature in
Kyd's versification is the frequency of a feminine termi-
nation to his lines ; here he struck out a definite and an
original track which raised him to a position of pre^emi-
nence among his contemporaries in this liberal use of ;

feminine endings, Kyd was to his age what Fletcher was

to his. These idiosyncrasies of versification are to be
 INTRODUCTION.

found in A Warning for Fair Women, and with other

evidence already oiiered, help to prove a strong case of
consanguinity of authorship. Below I print a Metrical
Table of this play which may possibly be of assistance
in the application of metrical tests.

A METRICAL TABLE OF 'A WARNING'.

Total Lines. Prose. Blank. Rhyme. Stop'd. Unstop'd. Fem. Ending.

2458. 261. 1969. 228. 284. 2013. 223.

I may here note that the feminine endings are consid-

erably increased by the names of some of the characters,
such as Sanders, Eoger, Drury, etc., which occur as
terminations 23 times.
Ill the Induction to A Warning there is a passage which

seems tj have been misunderstood by all the writers who

have touched upon it. I allude to the following lines
spoken by Comedy.

'
How some damned tyrant to obtain a crown,
Stabs, hangs, empoisons, smothers, cutteth throats :

And then a Chorus, too, comes howling in

And tells us of the worrying of a cat :

Then of a filthy whining ghost.

Lapped in some foul sheet or a leather pilch.
Gomes screaming like a pig half-sticked.
—
And cries, Vindicta ! Kevenge, Eevenge !'

Stephen Jones, in the Biographia Dramatica, 1812,

—
commenting on lines 1 and 2, says: 'There seems to be
a fling at Shakespeare's King Bichard III., which first
appeared in 1597. The next lines [3 and 4] may be a
ridicule on the chorus in King Eenrtj F., or those in The
xvi A WARNING FOR FAIR WOMEN.

Spanish Tragedy. And what follows [5-8] may be pointed

at the Ghost in Samlet, or that of Don Andrea.' Mr.
Collier, commenting on the following lines in The Spanish
Tragedy, iii. 13,

'
Vindicta mihi. —
Ay, heaven will be revenged of everj' ill.'

says :
— ' This passage seems laughed at in the induction
to an extremely rare old play, called A Warning for Fair
Women, 1599:—
'
Comes screaming like a pig half sticked,
And cries, Vindicta! revenge, revenge I"

Mr. E. Simpson, School of Shakespeare, ii. 216, says—

'
The induction to the Warning is notable also in that it
contains what is apparently a fling at Shakespeare's
Richard III, Henry V, Macbeth, and Hamlet, in Comedy's
speech beginning —
How some damned tyrant to obtain
'

a crowu'.' I think it can be shown that these writers

have misunderstood the passage, and that the allusion,
satirical in point, is not to Shakespearean plays, but to
plays by another dramatist, and that it was a scoffing

retort by Kyd to ridicule launched- at an earlier work of

his, by Greene and his set. Before entering on this dis-
cussion I may say that Kj'd, like Shakespeare, was re-
garded by the university playwrights as an outsider, and
that a good deal of abuse was thrown at him by them
the outcome of jealousy aroused by the success of his
great play The Spanish Tragedy, which was certainly
written and on the stage before 1589. The evidence in
support of this hypothesis be found in the epistle to
is to

Greene's Menaphon, entered Aug. 23, 1589, written by

 INTRODUCTION. xvii

Nash ; the passage is already threadbare by quotatioD,

but it is necessary for the argument here advancd that a
portion of it should be given once more In The Spanish
Tragedy, ii. 1, 77, Kyd puts into the mouth of Lorenzo
the following line :

'
What, -villain, ifs and hands V
That among other things was seized by Nash, probably
at Greene's instigation, and reproduced in the following
paragraph in the epistle before Menaphon —
'
Sufficeth tliem to bodge up a blank verse with ifs and ands..

Here, I think, there can be no doubt that Kyd was the

person at whom this ridicule was pointed. The matter
did not end here; it was taken up by another dramatist

of Greene's clique and appeared in an anonymous play,

The True Tragedy of Richard III., — query, by Peele
printed in 1594, but written about the end of 1589. In
that play, iii. 3 Richard, addressing Hastings, says:

'
If, villain, feedest thou me with ifs and ands ?'

Kyd is credited with having written the early Hamlet,

which is very poi^sible, and it is imagined the following
expression occurred in it :

'
Blood is a beggar.'

In another part of the epistle to Menaphon is the ensuing

passage :

'
Yet English Seneca read by candlelight yields many
good sentences, as Blood is a beggar, and so forth and :

if you entreat him fair on a frosty morning, he will

afford you whole Hamlets, I should say handfuls of

tragical speeches.'
xviii A WARNING FOM FAIR WOMEN.

This was taken up by the author of Bichard III, and in

iii. 2, of that play tlie fuHowingiine was pointed in ridi-
cule at Kyd's expression :

'Blood is a tkreatener and will have revenge.'

Can there be any doubt that this ridicule was directed at

Kyd, and that the matter furnishing the sneer was drawn
from his play ? If that question be answered in the
negative, then there was ample cause for retort the re- ;

tort was given in the few lines above quoted from the
Induction to this play now I shall endeavour to show
;

the plays and playwright at whom they were directed.

It has been seen that the final flout at Kyd was given
by Peele in his anonymous play of Richard III. Kj'd at
once accepted the challenge and retaliated on him from
the very play containing the sneer :

'
How some damned tyrant to obtain a crown,
Stabs, hangs, empoisons, smothers, cutteth throats.'

Eichard was the 'damned tyrant' who, to obtain a crown,

committed these crimes as may be seen by the old play.

'
And then a Chorus, too, comes howling in
And tells us of the worrying of a cat.'

In Peele's plays, Tlie Battle of Alcazar and Locrine a

Chorus or Presenter enters before each act. The wor- '

rying of a cat' was a common theatrical expression, and

therefore hardly an allusion to any play, and certainly
not to A Midsummer Night's Dream ; the passage in
Histriomastix , v. 241-2, may possibly be an allusion to
the expression in A Warning.
 INTRODUCTION.

'Then a filthy -whining ghost.

Lapped in some foul sheet or a leather pilch,
Comes screaming like a pig half-sticked,
And cries, Vindicta ! Revenge, Revenge — !'

In The Battle of Alcazar, ii. chorus, '

Three Ghosts within
ery Vindicta!' Again, ih. 1. 19,

'
'Revenge !' cries Abdelmunen's grieved ghost.'

In Locrine, iii. 4, the Ghost of Albanact cries,

' Vindicta ! Vindicta !

Revenge, revenge for blood !

In The True Tragedy of Bichard III., induction, the

Ghost of Clarence cries,
'
O cito, citb, vindicta !

The allusions could not be more direct, or the parallel

more perfect or convincing and possibly the persons ;

concerned recognised the justice of the retort and sub-

mitted with the best grace they could. Certainly Greene
Nash, and Peele were not altogether victorious. This
me the most feasible explanation of
hypothesis seems to
the allusion contained in the lines in the Induction to
this play, and satisfactorily disposes of the notion that
they were a fling at Shakespeare or Kyd, and I think
that error must have arisen through insisting on too late
a period of production.
When I made my reprint of the old Bichard III. in
1901 I had not obtained sufficient evidence on the point,
or I should not have suggested Kyd as a possible coad-
jutor with Peele in the writing of that play ; now the
XX A WARMNG FOE FAIR WOMEN.

idea has been fully developed and worked ont, I do not

think lie had any c-uiicern in its composition. What [

then took to be evidence of his hand, I now see was

satirical allusicju to his work.
The tragic event on which A Warning for Fair Women
is founded, occurred in 1573 and is pretty fully chronicled
by Stow. Other accounts of the crime are extant, viz.,
Munday's View of Sundry Examples, meet to be perused by
all faithful Christians, 1581 ; Sundry strange and inhuman
Murders lately committed, London, 1591, black letter; and
A Britfe Discourse of the lute murther of master George
Sawndi rs a worshipfull Citizen of London ; and of the ap-
prehension, arreignement, and execution of the principall &
acctssaries of the same. ^ Imprinted at London by Henry
Bynneman, dwelling in Kaightrider Streete, at the Signe of
the Mermayde. Anno 1573.
There is no material difference, in the main facts, be-
tween Stow's account of the crime, and that contained in
A Brief JDiseourse. The author of the latter has dealt
more linEedetails and appears to have
of the case,
collected the gossip and rumours which usually gather
round a crime of this nature. The author of A Warning
apparently followed this account in writing his tragedy,
to which he has adhered with strict, if not servile,
fidelity and it is interesting to note how he has occa-
;

sionally developed —
with the tact of a born dramatist
a mere hint into a highly tragic, or pathetic situation.
Here is an instance.
' He wasso abashed afterward at the sight of one of
master Saunders little yoong children, as he had much
adoo to forbeare from swounding in the street.'
 INTEODUCriON.

Compare this with the dramatic sceue in A Warning, iii. 4.

In A Warning, iv. 5, Browne's brother is introduced

proceeding to execution this is not mentioned in A Brief
;

Discourse, but it is given by Stow, whence the author no

doubt took it. The reader who is curious on the subject
will find a full reprint of A Dricfe Discourse in vol ii. of
Mr. Simpson's School of Shakespeare : Stow's account is
printed in the Appendix to tiiis play.
There is a striking similarity between A Warning and
Arden of Feversham, but as that has already been dealt
with in the Introduction to my reprint of Arden, 1898,
there is no occasion to repeat here what has been said
there. Arden is unquestionably the prior performance.
The editor of the Biographia Dramatica says, ^
A Warning
for Fair Women appears to have been written on the
model of Arden of Feveruham that to some extent is true,
;'

but the resemblance of the material whence both plots

were taken rendered any servile copying unnecessary.

A. F. HOPKINSON.
London, July 13, 1904.

EJiltATA.
Page X. 1. 23, for on read of.
" xvii 1. 5, for hands read ands.
" 16 1. 11, for my read by.
" 29 1. 25, for then read thou.
" 75 1. 8, for place read places.
 DRAMATIS PERSONS.

CHAJtACTERS IN THE INDUCTION.

HISTORY. TEAGEDY. COMEDY.

CHARAVTERS IN THE BUMS SHOWS.

TRAGEDY, MURDER, LUST, FURIES, CHASTITY, JUSTICE,
MERCY, DILIGENCE, and other chief Characters in the drama.

CHARACTERS IN THE DRAMA.

GEORGE SANDERS, a Merchant.
A2^NE SANDERS, his Wife.
MISTRESS ANNE DRURY.
TRUSTY ROGER, her Servant.
CAPTAIN GEORGE BROWNE.
SANDERS' Little Son, and two other Children of his.

SANDERS' Man.
MASTER BARNES, of Woolwich. '

JOHN BEANE, his Man.

OLD JOHN, a Farmer.
,JOAN, his Maid, betrothed to John Beane.
MASTER JAMES.
HARRY, a Schoolboy.
BROWNE, a Butcher of Rochester.
ANTHONY BROWNE, Brother to Geobgb Bbownb.
TOM PEART, and WILL CROW, Carpenters.
TWO GENTLEMEN, Friends to Sanders.
LORD CHIEF JUSTICE.
LORD MAYOR.
THE MAYOR of Rochester.
Four Lords, a Sheriff, a Minister, a Doctor, the Keeper of
Newgate. Clerk, a Pursuivant, Sergeants, two Messengers,
Yeoman of the buttery, a Milliner, a Draper, a Page,
a Torch-bfXtrer, a Waterman, Apprentice, Attendants,
Officers, i^c, !<)-c.

SCENE— London, and various parts of Kent.

A WARNING FOR FAIR WOMEN.

oM«o

INDUCTION.
Enter at one door History, with drum and ensign ; Tragedy
at another, in her one hand a whip, in the other hand a hnife.

Trag. Whither away so fast ? Peace, with that drum

Down with that ensign, which disturbs our stage
Out with this luggage, with this foppery !

This brawling sheepskin is intolerable.

Hist. Indeed, no marvel, though we should give place
Unto a common executioner !

Eoom, room for God's sake

! let us stand away !

Oh, we shall have some doughty stufP to-day !

Enter Comedy at the other end.

Trag. What, yet more cat's-guts ? Oh, this filthy sound

Stiflesmine ears More cartwheels creaking yet?
! 10
A plague upon 't I'll cut your fiddle strings
!

If you stand scraping thus to anger me !

Com. Gup, mistress buskins, with a whirligig

i A WARMKG FOR FAIR WOMEN, [induction.

Are you so touchy, madam Melpomene ?

Whose mare is dead,
That you are going to take oflf her skin ?
Trag. A plague upon these filthy, fiddling tricks,
Able to poison any noble wit
Avoid the stage, or I will whip thee hence. 19
Com. Indeed thou mayst, for thou art murder's beadle
The common hangman unto Tyranny.
But, History, what, all three met at once !

What wonder's towards that we are got together?

Hist. My meaning was to have been here to-day,
But meeting with my lady Tragedy,
She scolds me o£P
And, Comedy, except thou canst prevail,
I think she means to banish us the stage.
Com. Tut, tut, she cannot she may for a day
;

Or two, perhaps, be had in some request, 30

But once a week if we do not appear.
She shall find few that will attend her here.
Trag. I must confess you have some sparks of wit
Some odd ends of old jests scraped up together
To tickle shallow, unjudicial ears :

Perhaps some puling passion of a lover.

But slight and childish. What is this to me ?
I must have passions that must move the soul •

Make the heart heave and throb within the bosom

Extorting tears out of the strictest eyes,
40
To rack a thought and strain it to his form
Until I rap the senses from their course.
This is my office.
Com. How some damned tyrant to obtain a crown
JNDucTroN.] A M'Altls'IKG FOR FAIR WOMEN.

Stabs, hangs, empoisons, smothers, cutteth throats

And then a Chorus, too, comes howling in,

And tells us of the worrying of a cat

Then, too, a filthy whining ghost,
Ijapped in some foul sheet, or a leather pilch.
Comes screaming like a pig half sticked, 50
And cries — ' Vindicta ! Eevenge, revenge !

With that a little rosin flasheth forth.

Like smoke out of a tobacco-pipe, or a boy's squib.
Then comes in two or three, like [un]to drovers,
With tailors' bodkins stabbing one another :

Is not this trim ? Is not here goodly things,

That you should be so much accounted of ?

I would not else —

Hist. Now, before God, thou'lt make her mad anon ;

Thy jest.s are like a whisp unto a scold. 60

Cora. Why, say I could, what care I History ?
Then shall we have a tragedy indeed ;

Pure purple buskin, blood and murder right.

Trag. Thus, with your loose and idle similes,
Tou have abused me but I'll whip you hence
; :

[She whips them.

I'll scourge and lash you both from off the stage.

'Tisyou have kept the theatres so long 1

Painted in play-bills upon every post, /
That I am scorned of the multitude,
My name profaned : but now I'll reign as queen. 70
In great Apollo's name, and all the Muses,
By virtue of whose godhead I am sent,
I charge you to begone and leave this place
Eist. Look, Comedy, I marked it not till now.
 A B'ARNIXG FOR FAIR WOMEN, [induction.

The stage is hung with black, and I perceive

The auditors prepared for Tragedy.
Com. Nay, then, I see she shall be entertained :

These ornaments beseem not thee and me.

Then, Tragedy, kill them to-day with sorrow,
We'll make them laugh with mirthful jests to-morrow.
Hist. And, Tragedy, although to-day thou reign, 81
To-morrow herfe I'll domineer again. [Exeunt.
Trag. Are you both gone so soon ? Why then I see
All this fair circuit here is left to me.
[Turning to the audience.

All you spectators, turn your cheerful eye.

Give entertainment unto Tragedy.
My scene is London, native and your own,
I sigh to think my subject too well known.
I am not feigned. Many now in this Round '^

Once to behold me in sad tears were drowned. 90

Yet what I am I will not let you know.
Until my next ensuing scene shall show. [Exit.

ACT I.

SCENE I.— London. A Street near Sanders' House.

Enter Sanders, Anne Sanders, Drury, Browne, Boger, and

Master Sanders' servant.

San. Gentlemen, here must we take our leave,

Thanking you for your courteous company.
And for your good discourse of Ireland,
Whereas it seems you have been resident,
I. 1.] A WAllh'INO FOR FAIR WOMEN. 5

By your well noting the particulars.

Bro. True, sir, I have been there familiar.
And am no better known in London here
Than I am there, unto the better sort
Chiefly in Dublin, where ye heard me say.
Are as great feasts as this we had to-day. 10
San. So have I heard. The land gives good increase
Of every blessing for the use of man ;

And 'tis great pity the inhabitants

Will not be civil, nor live under law.
Bro. As civil in the English Pale as here,
And laws obeyed, and orders duly kept
And all the rest may one day be reduced.
San. God grant it so! — I pray you, what's your name?
Bro. ily name's George Browne.
San. God be with ye, good master Browne. 20
Bro. Miin^ farewells, master Sanders, to yourself,
And to lliese gentlewomen : — ladies, God be with you !

Anne. God be with ye, sir.

Bru. Thanks for your company

I like your talk of Ireland so well.
That I could wish time had not cut it off.
I pray ye, sir, if ye come near my house.

Call, and you shall be welcome, master Browne.

Bro. I thank ye, mistress Drury is 't not so — ?

Bru. My name is Anne Drury.

San. Widow, come, will ye go ? 30
Bru. I'U wait upon you, sir.

\Exit Sanders. Anve Sanders makes a curtsey and

departs, and all the rest saving Boger, whom
Browne calls.
6 A WAllMNG FOR FAIR WOMEN. [I. 1-

Bro. Hark ye, my friend.

Are not you servant unto mistress Drury ?
Ito(j. Yes, indeed, forsooth. For fault of a better,
I have served her, man and boy, this seven years.
Bio. I pray thee do me a piece of favour, then,
And I'll requite it.

Bog. Anything I can.

Bro. Entreat thy mistress, when she takes her leave 40
Of master Sanders and his wife, to make retire
Hither tigain, for I will speak with her.
Wilt thou do 't for me ?
Rag. Yea, sir, that I will.
Where shall she find ye ?

Bro. I'U not stir from hence.

Say I entreat her but a word or two
She shall not stay longer than likes herself.
Bog. Nay, sir, for that, as you two can agree.
IM warr mt you I'll bring her to ye straight. \Exit.
Bro. Straight or crooked, I must needs speak with her
For, by this light, my heart is not my own, 52
But taken prisoner at this frolic feast
Entangled in a net of golden wire,
Wbioh Love had slyly laid in her fair looks.
Oh, master Sanders, thou'rt a happy man.
To have so sweet a creature to thy wife,
Whom I must win, or I must lose my life. '

But if she be as modest as she seems,

Thy heart may break, George Browne, ere thou obtain.
This mistress Drury must be made the mean.
What e'er it costs, to compass my desire g2
And I hope well she doth so soon retire.
I. 1.] A irARXING FOR FAIR WOMEN. 7

Enter Roger and Drury.

Good mistress Drury, pardon this bold part
That I have played upon so small acquaintance,
To send for you let your good nature hide
;

The blame of my bad nurture for this once.

Dru. I take it for a favour, master Browne,
And no offence, a man of your fair parts
Will send for me to stead him any way. 70
Bog. Sir, ye shall find my mistress as courteous a
gentlewoman as any in liOndon, if ye have occasion to
use her.
Bra. So I presume, friend. —Mistress, by your leave
[Tafces her aside.

I would nut that your man should hear our speech,

For it concerns me much it be concealed.
Dru. I hope it is no treason you will speak.
Bro. No, by my faith, nor felony.
Dru. Nay, then.
Though my man Eoger hear it, never care.
If it be love, or secrets due to that, 80
Eoger is trusty, I dare pawn my life,
As any fellow within London walls.
But if you have some secret malady
That craves my help to use my surgery.
Which, though I say 't, is pretty, he shall hence
If not, be bold to speak, there 's no offence.

Bro. 1 have no sore, but a new inward grief

Which by your physic may find some relief.

Dru. What, is 't a surfeit ?

Bro. Aye at this late feast.

Dru. Why Aqua ccelestis, or the water of balm, 90

 A WARNING FOR FAIR WOMEN. II- 1-

Or Bosa Solis, or that of Doctor Steevens,

Will help a surfeit. Now I remember me,

Mistress Sanders hath a sovereign thing
To help a sudden surfeit presently.
Bro. I think she have. How shall I compass it ?

Dru. I'll send my man for some on 't.

Bro. Pray ye stay.

She '11 never send that which will do me good.
Dru. Oh say not so, for then ye know her not.
Bro. [Aside.'] I would I did so well as I could wish.
Dru. iSlie's even as courteous a gentlewoman, sir, 100
As kind a peat as London can afford.
Not send it, quotha ? yes, and bring 't herself.

If need require. A poor woman t'other day,

Her water-bearer's wife, had surfeited
With eating beans, (ye know 'tis windy meat)
And the poor creature 's subject to the stone :

She went herself, and gave her but a dram

It helped her, straight ; in less than half an hour
She fell unto her business till she sweat,
And was as well as I am now. 110
Bro.But that which helps a woman helps not me :

A woman's help will rather do me good.

Dru. I' faith, I ha' found you Are ye such a one !
?
Well, master Browne, I warrant, let you alone !

Bro. But, mistress Drury, leave me not yet alone

For if ye do, I never shall alone
Obtain the company that my soul desires.
Faith,tell me one thing Can ye do much
:

With mistress Sanders ? Are you not inward with her ?

Dru. I dare presume to do as much with her 120
I. 1.] A WABNINO FOR FAIR WOMEN. 9

As any woman in this city can.

Bro. What's your opinion of her honesty ?
Brv. Oh, very honest : very chaste, i' faith.
I will not wrong her for a thousand pound.
Bro. Then all your physic cannot cure my wound.
Dm. Your wound is love. Is that your surfeit, sir ?
Bro. Yea, and 'tis cureless without help of her.
Dm. I am very sorry that I cannot ease ye.
Bro. Well, if ye can, i' faith, I will well please ye.

Dru. You wear a pretty turquoise there, methinks. 130

I would I had the fellow on't.
Bro. Take ye this,

Upon condition to effect my bliss.

Dru. Pardon me that, sir : no condition !

For that grief I am no physician.

How say'st thou, Roger, am I ?

Bog. Yea, forsogth, mistress, what? What did ye ask ?

Dru. Tliis gentleman 's in love

With mi <tresb Sanders, and would have me speak

In his be^ialf. How say'st thou, dare I do't,
And she so honest, wise and virtuous ? 140
Bro. What mean ye, mistress Drury, to bewray
!

Unto youi man what I in secret spake ?

Dru.Tush, fear not you ;
'tis trusty Eoger, this

I use his counsel ia as deep affairs.

How say'st thou, Hodge ?

Bog. Mistress, this say I. Though mistress Sanders
be yery honest, as iu my conscience she is, and her hus-
band wise and subtle, and in all Billingsgate ward not a
kinder couple, yet if you would wrong her husband,
your dear friend, methinks ye have such a sweet tongue
10 A WARSINO FOR FAIR WOMEN. [I. 1.

as will supple a stone, aud for my life, if ye list to la-

bour, you '11 win her. Sir, stick close to my mistress

she is studying the law : and if ye be not straight laced
ye know my mind. She '11do it for ye, and I'U play my
part. 155
Bro. Here, mistress Drury, this same ring is yours,
[Gives her a ring.
Wear 't for my sake and, if ye do me good.
;

Command this chain, this hand, and this heart-blood.

What say ye to me ? Speak a cheerful word.
Bog. Faith, mistress, do; he's a fine gentleman: 160
Pity he should languish for a little love.

Bru. Yea, but thou knowest they are both my friends;

He's very wise, she very circumspect.
Very respective of her honest name.
Bog. If ye list you can cover as great a blame.
Dm. If I should break it, and she take it iU ?
Bog. Tut, you have cunning, pray ye use your skill.
To her, master Browne.
Bro. What say ye to me, lady ?

JDrn. This I say :

I cannot make a man. To cast away 170

So goodly a creature as yourself, were sin.
Second my onset, for I will begin
To break the ice, that you may pass the ford.
Do your good will, you shall have my good word.
Bro. But how shall I have opportunity ?
Bru. That must be watched, but very secretly.
Bro. How, at her house ?

Bru. There ye may not enter.

Bro. Huw then?
I. 1.] A WABKING FOE FAIR WOMEN. 11

Dru. By some other fine adventure :

Watch when her husband goes to the Exchange,

She '11 sit at door to her, though she be strange
;
; 180
Spare not to speak, ye can but be denied ;

Women love most, by whom they are most tried.

My man shall watch, and I will watch my turn
I cannot see so fair a gallant mourn.
Bro. Ye bless my soul by showing me the way !

Oh, mistress Drury, if I do obtain.

Do but imagine how I'll quit your pain.
But where 's her house 1

Dru. Against St. Dunstan's church.

Bro. St. Dunstan's in Fleet street?
Dru. No, near Billingsgate,
St. Dunstan's in the east, that's in the west. 190
Be bold to speak, for I wiU do my best.
Bro. Thanks mistress Drury. Eoger, drink you that
And as I speed espect your recompense.
. Bog. I thank ye, sir ; nay, I will gage my hand.
Few women can my mistress' force withstand.
Dru. Sir, this is aU ye have to say ?

Bro. For this time, mistress Drury, we will part

Win mistress Sanders, and ye win my heart !

Hope yuu the best she shall have much ado

Dru. ;

To hold her own when I begin to woo. 200

Come, Hodge. [Exit.

Bog. I trust, sir, when my mistress has obtained your

suit, you' me in a cast suit of your apparel.

11 suit

Bro. Cast and uncast shall trusty Eoger have,

If thou be secret, and an honest knave. [Exeunt.
12 A WABISING FOR FAIR WOMEN. [I. 2.

SCENE II. — London. TJie Street before Sanders' House.

Enter [from the house'\ Anne Sanders with her little Son,
and sit at, her door.

Boy. Pray ye, mother, when shall we go to supper ?

Anne. Why, when your father comes from the Exchange
Ye are not hungry since yecame from school ?
Boy. Not hungry, mother, but I would fain eat.
Anne. Forbear awhile until your father come :

I sit here to expect his quick return.

Boy. MotJier, shall not I have new bow and shafts
Against our school go a-feasting ?
Anne. Yes if ye learn :

And against Easter new apparel too. 10

You '11 lend
Boy. me all your scarfs, and aU your rings,
And buy me a white feather for my velvet cap.
Will ye, mother ? Yea, say
pray ye say so.
;

Anne. Go, prattling boy, go bid your sister see

My closet locked when she takes out the fruit.
Boy. I and take some for my pains. [Exit.
will, forsooth,

Anne. WeU, sir sauce, does your master teach ye that?

I pray God bless thee, thou'rt a very wag.

Enter Browne.

Bro. Yonder she sits to light this obscure street,

Like a bright diamond worn in some dark place ;
20
Or like the moon, in a black winter's night,
To comfort wandering travellers in their way.
But so demure, so modest are her looks,
So chaste her eyes, so virtuous her aspect,

As do repulse Love's false artillery.

I. 2.] A IVA T;MXG for FAIR WOMEN. 13

Yet must I speak, thougli rhecked ^vith scornful nay ;

Desire draws on, but reason bids me stay.

My tu'tress, Drury, gave me charge to speak,
And speak I mijst, or else my heart will break.—
God save ye, mistress Sanders ! All alone ? 30
Sit ye to take the view of passengers '?

Anne.
No, in good sooth, sir, I give small regard
Who comes or goes. My husband I attend,
Whose coming will be speedy from th' Exchange.
JBro. A good exchange made he for single life,

That joined in marriage with so sweet a wife.

Anne. Come ye to speak with master Sanders, sir ?

Bro. Why ask ye that ?

Anne. Because ye make a stay

Here at his door.
Bro. I stay in courtesy.
To give you; thanks for your last company. 40
I hope my kind salute'^doth not offend.
Anne. No, sir, and yet such unexpected kindness
Is like herb John in broth.

Bro. I pray ye, how is that ?

Anne. 'T may e'en as well be laid aside as used.—

If ye have business with my husband, sir,

Y' are welcome otherwise, I'll take my leave.

;

Bro. Nay, gentle mistress, let not my access

Be means to drive you from your door so soon :

I would be loth to prejudice your pleasure.

For my good liking at the feast conceived, 50
If master Sanders shall have cause to use
The favour of some noble personage.
Let him employ no other but George Browne
U A WAltMNG FOli FAIR WOMEN. [I. 2.

T' effect his suit, without a recompense.

I speak I know not what, my tongue and heart
Are 80 divided through the force of love. [Aside.
Anne. I thank ye, sir, but if he have such cause,
I hope he's not so void of friends in court.

But he may speed and never trouble you :

Yet I will do your errand, if yn. please. 60

Bro. E'en as*t please you. 1 doubt I trouble ye ?

Anne. Eesolve your doubt, and trouble me no more.

Bro. 'Twill never be ; I thought as much before. \_Aside.
God be with you, mistress.
Anne. Fare ye well, good sir.
Bro. I'll to Nan Drury and talk with her. [Exit.
yet,

Anne. Thche errand-making gallants are good men,

That cannot pass and see a woman sit.
Of any sort, ciione at any door.
But they will fiiid a 'sense to stand and prate :

Fools, that they are, to bite at every bait 70

Enter Sanders.

Here he comes, now, whom I have looked for long.

San. How now, sweet Nan, sit'st thou here all alone?
Anne. Better alone, than have bad company.
San. I trust there's none but good resorts to thee !

Anne. There shall not, sir, if I know what they be.

Ye have stayed late, sir, at th' Exchange to-night,
San. Upon occasion, Nan. Is supper ready ?
Anne. An hour ago.
San. And what good company ?
None to sup with us Send! one for Nan Drury :

She'll play the wag, tell tales, and make us merry. 80

I. 3.] A WAEKIKG FOR FAIR WOMEN. 15

Amie. I think s' has supped, but one shall run and look.

If your meat be marred, blame yourself not the cook.

San. Howe'er it be, we'll take it in good part
For once, and use it not. Come, let's in, sweetheart.
[They enter the house.

SCEKE III.— London. A Boom in Drury's House.

Enter Anne Brtiry and Trusty Eager, her man.

Dru. Eoger, come hither. Was there no messenger

This day from master Browne, to speak with me?
Bog. Mistress, not any and that 1 marvel at
;

But I can tell you, he must come and send.

And be no niggard of his purse beside.
Or else I know bow it will go with him.
He must not think to anchor where he hopes,
Unless you be his pilot.
Dm. Where is that?
The fellow talks and prates he knows not what. [Aside.

I be his pilot? Whither? Canst thou tell ? 10

The cause he doth frequent my house, thou see'st,
Is for the love he bears unto my daughter.
Bog. A very good cloak, mistress, for the rain ;

And therein I must needs commend your wit

Close dealing is the safest. By that means
The world will be the less suspicious ;

For whil'st 'tis thought he doth affect your daughter,

Who can suspect his love to mistress Sanders ?
Bru. Why, now thou art as I would have thee be,
Conceited and of quick capacity. 20
Some heavy drawlatch, would have been this month
 16 A WAKMXG FOR FAIR WOMEN. [! 3.

(Though hourly I had instructed him)

Before he couhi liave found iny policy
But, Hodge, thou art niy heart's interpreter
And be thou secret still, as thou hast been.
And doubt not but we '11 all gain by the match.
George Browne, as thou knowest, is weDjeckoned of;
A proper man, and hath good store of coin ;

And mistress Sanders, she is young and fair,

And may be tempered easily, like wax 30
Especially by one that is familiar with her.
. / Bog. True, mistress nor is she the first, my many,
;

That you have won to stoop unto the lure.

It is your trade, your living. What needs more ?
Drive you the bargain, I will keep the door.
Dm. Trusty Roger, thou well deserv'st thy name !

Bog. But, mistress, shall I tell you what I think ?

Dru. Yes Hodge; what is 't?

Bog. If you '11 be ruled by me.

Let them pay well for what you undertake.
Be not a spokeswoman, mistress for none of them, 40
, But be the better for it. Times will change,
-And there's no trusting to uncertainties.
Dru.Dost think I will ? Then beg me for a fooL!
The money I will finger 'twixt them twain,
\ Shall make my daughter such a dowry,
I
As I will match her better than with Brown
To some rich attorney, or gentleman.
Let me alone. If they enjoy their pleasure.

My sweet shall be to feed upon their treasure.

Bog. Hold you there, mistress ! Here comes master
Browne 50
I. 3.] A WAHKIXG fob FAIB women. 17

Enti-r Broime.
Bro. Good morrow, mistress Drury.
Dru. What, master Browne !

Now, by my faith, you are the very last man

We talked of. Y' are welcome, sir ;
how do j'ou,

And how speed you concerning that you wot of ?

Bog. Mistress, I'll void the place, if so you please,

And give you leave in private to confer. [Going.
Bro. Whither goes Eoger ? Callhim Lack again.
Dm. Come hither, sirrah, master Browne will have
you btaj'.

Bro. Why, how now, Eoger, will you shrink from me ?

Because 1 saw you not, do you suppose 60
I make no reckoning of your company ?
What, man thy trubt it is I build upon.
!

Bog. I thank you, sir ; nay, pray you be not offended,

I would be loth to seem unmanne^lJ^
Bro. Tut, a fig's end Thy counsel will do well,
!

And we must use thee ; therefore tarry here.

I have no other secret to reveal.
But only this,— that I have broke the ice,

And made an entrance to my love's pursuit.

Sweet mistress Sauders, that choice argument 70

Of all perfection, sitting at her door.
Even now I did salute. Some words there passed.
But nothing to the purpose; neither time
Nor place consorted to my mind beside, ;

Eecourse of servants and of passengers

Might have been jealous of our conference.
And therefore I refrained all large discourse.
Only thus much I gathered by her speech
18 A WARMNG FOR FAIR WOMEN. [I. 3.

That she is affable, not coy nor scornful,

And may be won, would you but be entreated 80
To be a mediator for me, and persuade her.
Bog. I pray you do so, mistress j'ou do know ;

That master Browne 's an honest gentleman,

And I dare swear will recompense you well.
Bro. If she do mistrust me, there 's my purse,
And in the same ten angels of good gold
And when I can but have access to her.
And am in any possibility
To win her favour, challenge of me more :

A hundred pound marriage with your daughter.

in 90
Bru. Alas! how dare I, master Browne? Her husband
Is one that I am much beholding to
A man both loving, bountiful and just;
And to his wife, in all this city, none
More kind, more loyal-hearted, or more firm
What sin were it to do him, then, that wrong
Bro. Oh, speak not of his worth, but of her praise
If he be firm, she's fair if he bountiful,
;

She's beautiful ; if he loyal, she's lovely ;

If he in all the city for a man \qq

Be the most absolute, she in all the world
Is for a woman the most excellent.
Oh, earth hath seldom such a creature seen
Nor subject been possessed with such a love !

Botj. Mistress, can you hear this and not be moved ?

I would it lay in me to help you, sir
I' faith, you should not need
so many words.
Bro. I know that
thou hast always been
;
my friend •

'
And though I never see Anne Sanders more
1.3.] A WARNING FOR FAIR WOMEN. 19

Yet for my sake drink this and, mistress Drury, :

— 110
England I must be forced to bid farewell,
Or shortly look to hear that I am dead,
Unless I may prevail to get her love.
Bog. Good mistress, leave your dumps, and speak to
him :

lou need not study so, 'tis no such labour.

Alas ! win you see a gentleman cast away ?
All but George, I pray you let['t] be done.
is

Dru. Well, master Browne, not for your money's sake,

So much as in regard I love you well,
Am I content to be your orator. 120
Mistress Sanders shall be certified
How fervently you love her, and, withal,
Some other words I'll use in your behalf.
As you sluiU have access to her at least.
Bro. When will you undertake
I ask no more. it ?

Bru. Tliis day

shaU no longer be deferred
; it :

And in the evening you shall know an answer.

Bro. Here, at j'our house ?
Bru. Tea, here, if so you please.
Bro. No I rest upon your promise.
better place :

So, farewell, mistress Drury. Till that hour, 130

What sweet can earth afford will not seem sour. [Exit.
Dru. He's sped, i'faith ; come, Eoger, let us go:
Til is the wind doth no man profit blow.

Bog. I shall not be the wors« for it, that I know.

[Exeunt.
20 A WARNING FOR FAIR WOMEN. [I. 4.

SCENE IV. A Boom in Sanders' House.

Enter Master Sanders and Ms Man.

San. Sirrah, what bills of debt are due to me ?

Man. All that were due, sir, as this day, are paid.
San. You have enough, then, to discharge the bond
Of master Ashmore's fifteen hundred pound.
That must be tendered on th' Exchange to-night.
Man. With that which master Bishop owes, we have.
San. When is his time to pay ?
Man. This afternoon.
San. He's a sure man, thou needst not doubt of him.

In any case, take heed unto my credit

I do not use, thou know'st, to break my word, 10

Much less my bond I prythee look unto it
;

And whenas master Bishop sends his money,

—
Bring the whole sum. I'll be upon the Burse,
Or, if I be not, thou canst take a quittance.
Man. What shall I say unto my mistress, sir ?
She bade me tell out thirty pounds e'en now
She meant to have bestowed in linen cloth.
San. She must defer her market till to-morrow
Iknow no other shift. My great affairs
Must not be hindered by such trifling wares. 20
Man. She told me, sir, the draper would be here,
And George the milliner with other things,
Which she appointed, should be brought her home.
San. AU'b one for that ; another time shaU serve :

Nor is there any such necessity.

That she may very well forbear awhile.
 1-4.] A JVAUyiya FCli FAIR WOMEN. .21

Man. She will not so be answered at my hand.

San. Tell her I did command it should be so. [Exit.
Man. Your jJeasure shall be done, sir, though thereby,
'Tis I am like to bear the blame away. 30

; Enter Anne Sanders, Mistress Lrury, a Draper und a

Milliner.

Anne. Come near I pray you. I do like your linen,

and you shall have your price. But j^ou, my friend, the
gloves you showed me, and the Italian purse are both
well made, and 1 do like the fashion but trust me, the ;

perfume, I am afraid, will not continue ;

yet upon your
word I'll liave tliem too. Sirrah, where
your master? is

Man. Fcirsooth, he's gone th'Exchange, even now.

to
Anne. IIiivi' you the money ready, which I called for ?
Man. >.(), it It please you ; my master gave me charge
I should (Iclivt-r none.
Anne. How's that, sir knave? 40
Your master charged you should deliver none !

Go to, despatch, and fetch me thirty pound.

Or I will send my fingers to your lips !

Dru. Good fortune! thus incensed against her husband:

I shall the better break with her for Browne. [Aside.
Man. 1 pray j"ou, mistress, pacify yourself
I dare not do it.

Anne. You dare not ; and why so ?

Man. Becausf tlifre's money to be paid to-night

Upon an obligiitioD.
Anne. What of that ?

Therefore I may not have to serve my turn ! 50

3Ian. ImU't^d, forsooth, there is not in the house,
22 A I] AJiMKG FOU FAIR WOMEN. [I. 4.

As yet, sufEtieiit to discliargo that debt.

Anne. 'Tis w ell that I must stand at your reversion ;

Eutreat my prentice, curtsey to my man,

And he must be purse-bearer when I need !

This was not wont to be your master's order.

Dru. No, I'll be sworn of that ! I never knew
But that you had at all times, mistress Sanders,
A greater sum than that at a command.
Marry, perhaps the world may now be changed 60
Man. Feed not my mistress' anger, mistress Drury
You do not well. To-morrow, if she list,

It is not twice so much but she may have it.

Anne. So that my breach of credit in the while

Is not regarded. I have brought these men
To have their money for such necessaries
As I have bought, and they have honestly
Delivered to my hands ; and now, forsooth,
I must be thought so bare and beggarly.
As they must be put off until to-morrow. 7o
Dra. Good mistress Sanders, trouble not yourself •

If that be all, your word shall be sufficient.

Were it for thrice the value of my ware.
And trust me mistress, you shall do me wrong
If otherwise you do conceit of me.
Mill. Be it for a week, a fortnight, or a month
Or when you will, I never would desire
Better security for all I am worth.
Anne. I thank you for your gentleness, my friends
But I have never used to go on credit. on
There two crowns betwixt you for your pains
is

Sirrah, deliver them their stuff again,

I. 4.] A WARNING FOR FAIR WOMEN. 23

And make them drink a cup of wine. Farewell

Dm. Good mistress Sanders, k't me leave the cloth ;

I shall be chidden when I do come home.

Mill. And I ; therefore, I pray you, be persuaded.
Anne. No, no ! I will excuse you to your masters
So, if you love me, use no more entreaty.
[Exeunt Bra., Mill., and Man.
I am a woman, and in that respect
Am well content my husband shall control me ;
90
But that my man should overawe me too,

And in the sight of strangers, mistress Drory,

I tell you true, does grieve me to the heart.
Brii. Your husband was to blame, to say the truth,
That gave his servant such authority.
What signifies it, but he doth repose
More trust in a vild boy than in his wife ?

Anne. Nay, give me leave to think the best of him

It was my destiny, and not his malice.
Sure I did know, as well when I did rise 100
This morning, that I should be chafed ere noon,
Ab where I stand.
J)ru. By what, good mistress Sanders ?
Anne. Why, by these yellow spots upon my fingers.

They never come to me but I ap sure

To hear of anger ere I go to bed.

Bru. 'Tis like enough. I pray you, let me see.

Good sooth ! they are as manifest as day !

And let me tell you, too, I see deciphered

Within this palm of yours, to quit that evil,

Fair signs of better fortune to ensue. 1 1 o

Cheer up your heart you shortly shall be free !
24 A WARKING FOR FAIR WOMEN. [I. 4.

From all your troubles. See you this character,

Directly fixed to the line of life ?

It signifies a dissolution.
You must be, mistress Anne, a widow shortly.
Anne. No, God forbid I hope you do but jest.
!

Dru. It is most certain. You must bury George.

Anne. Have you such knowledge, then, in palmistry ?
Bru. More than in surgery. Though I do make
That my profession, this is my best living. 120
And where I cure one sickness or disease,
I tell a hundred fortunes in a year.
What makes my house so haunted as it is

With merchants' wives, bachelors, and young maids.

But for my matchless skill in palmistry?
Lend me your hand again, I'll tell you more.
A widow, said I ? Yea, and make a change.
Not for the worse, but for the better far.
A gentleman, my girl, must be the next,
A gallant fellow — one that is beloved 130
Of great estates. 'Tis plainly figured here.
And this is called the ladder of Promotion.
1 do not wish to be promoted so
Anne.
My George is gentle, and beloved beside
And I have e'en as good a husband of him,
As any wench in London hath beside.
Bru. True, he is good, but not too good for God.
He's kind, but can his love dispense with death?
He's wealthy, and an handsome man beside,
But will his grave be satisfied with that ? 140
He keeps you well, who says the contrary ?
Yet better 's better. Now you are arrayed
1. 4,] A WAHMNG FOR FAIR WOMEN. 25

After a civil manner, but the next

Shall keep you in your hood and gown of silk.
And when you stir abroad, ride in your coach,
And have your dozen men all in a livery,
To wait upon you. This is somewhat like.
Anne. Yet had I rather be as now I am.
If God were pleased that it should be so.
Dru. Ky, marry, now you speak like a good Christian
'If God were pleased.' Oh, but he hath decreed 151
It shall be otherwise and to repine
;

Against his providence, you know 'tis sin.

Anne. Your words do make me think I know not what;
And burden me with fear as well as doubt.
Dru. Tut, I could tell ye, for a need, his name,
That is Ordained to be your next husband ;

But for a testimony of my former speeches,

Let it suffice I find it in your hand.
That you already are acquainted with him. 160
And, let me see, this crooked line, derived
From your ring-finger, shows me, not long since,
You had some speech with him in the street,
Or near about your door I am sure it was.
Anne. I know of none more than that gentleman
That supped with us they call him Captain Browne,
;

And he, I must confess, against my will.

Came to my door as I was sitting there,
And used some idle chat might 'a been spared,
And more, I wis, than I had pleasure in. i7o
—
Dm. I cannot tell. If Captain Browne it were
Then Captain Browne is he must marry you.
His name is George, I take it yea, 'tis so ; :
C6 A R AHMNG FOB FAIR WOMEN. [I- 4.

My rules of palmistry declare no less.

Anne. 'Tis very strauge how ye should know so much.
Dru. Nay, 1 can make rehearsal of the words
Did pass betwixt you, if I were disposed ;

Yet I protest, I never saw the man

Since, nor before, the night he supped with us.
Briefly, it is your fortune, mistress Sanders, 180
And there's no remedy but you must leave him.
I counsel you to no immodesty :

'Tis lawful, one deceased, to take another.

In the mean space I would not have you coy
But if he come unto your house, or so,
To use him courteously, as one for whom
You were created in your birth a wife.
Anne. If it be so, I must submit myself
To that which God and destiny sets down.
But yet I can assure you, mistress Drury, 1 90
I do not find me any way inclined
To change, or new affection nor, God willing, ;

Will I be false to Sanders whilst I live.

By this time he 's returned from the Exchange
Come, you shall sup with us. [Exit.
Dru. I'll follow you.^
Why, this is well I never could have found
!

A fitter way to compass Browne's desire,

Nor in her woman's breast kindled love's fire !

For this will hammer so within her head.

As for the new she '11 wish the old were dead. 200
When neck of this I will devise
in the
Some stratagem to close up Sanders' eyes. [Exit
U. D. s.] A WAHNING FOR FAIR WOMEN. 27

ACT II.

The Dumb Show.

Enter Tragedy with a boiol of blood in her hand

Trag. Till now you have but sitten to behold
The fatal entrance to our bloody scene
And by gradations seen how we have grown
Into the main stream of our tragedy.
All we have done hath only been in words
But now we come unto the dismal act,
And in these sable curtains shut we up
The comic entrance to our direful play.
This deadly banquet is prepared at hand,
Where ebon tapers are brought
up from heU, 10
To lead black Murder to this damnM deed.
The ugly screech-owl, and the night-raven.
With flaggy wings, and hideous croaking noise,
Do beat the casements of this fatal house,
Whilst I do bring my dreadful Furies forth.
To spread the table to this bloody feast.
[The Furies come forth. The while they cover.
Come forth and cover, for the time draws on.
Despatch, I say, for now I must employ ye.
To be the ushers to tliis damnM train.
Bring forth the banquet, and that lustful wine 20
Which in pale mazors, made of dead men's skulls
They shall carouse to their destruction.
By this they 're entered to this fatal door.
[Some strange solemn music, Mice bells, is heard within.
28 A WARDING F(m FAIR WOMEN. [II. d. e.

Hark, how the ghastly fearful chimes of night

Do ring them in and with a doleful peial
!

Do fill the roof with sounds of tragedy

Despatch, I say, and be their ushers in.

\The Furi-is go to the door and meet them. First the Furies
enter before, leading them, dancing a soft dance to the

solemn music. Next comes Lust, before Browne, leading

Mistress Sanders covered with a blade veil : Chastity,
all in white, pulling her bach softly by the arm. Then
Drury, thrusting away Chastity; Moger following. They
march about, and then sit to the table. The Furies fill
wine. Lust drinks to Browne ; he to Mistress Sanders;
she pledgeth him. Lust embraceth her ; she thrusteth
Chastityfrom her ; Chastity wrings her hands and de-
parts. Drury and Roger embrace one another. The
Furies leap and embrace one another. Whilst they sit
down Tragedy speaks.
Here is the masque untothis damned murder.
The Furies first, the devil leads the dance ;

Next lawless Lust conducteth cruel Browne, 30

He doth seduce this poor deluded soul.
Attended by unspotted innocence.
As yet unguilty of her husband's death.
Next follows on that instrument of hell,
That wicked Diury, the accursM fiend
That thrusts her forward to destruction.
And last of all is Roger, Drury's man,
A villain expert in all treachery,
One conversant in all her damuM drifts.
And a base broker in this murderous act. 40
Here they prepare them to these lustful feasts •
II. D. s.] A WAI^KING FOB. FAIR WOMEN. 29

And here they sit, all wicked Murder's guests.

[Tragedy standing to behold them awhile till the show
he done, again turning to the people.
Thus sin prevails ! She drinks that poisoned draught,
With which base thoughts henceforth infects her soul.
And wins her free consent to this foul deed.
Now blood and Lust doth conquer and subdue,
And Chastity is quite abandoned.
Here Murder into all their hearts,
enters
And doth possess them with the hellish thirst
Of guiltless blood. Now will I wake my chime, 50
And lay this charming-rod upon their eyes.
To make them sleep in their security. [They sleep.

Thus sits this poor soul, innocent of late.

Amongst these devils at this damnfed feast.
Won and betrayed to their detested sin.
And thus with blood their hands shall be imbrued.
[Murder sets down her blood, and rubs their hands.
Thy hands shall both be touched, for they alone
Are the foul actors of this impious deed. [To Browne.
And thine, and thine ; for thou didst lay this plot,
And thou didst work this damnM witch['s] device; 60
Your hands are both as deep in blood as his.
[To Drury and Boger.
Only thoTi dip'bt a finger in the same.
And here it is. [To Anne.
Awake, now when you will,
For now 's the time wherein to work your ill.
[Here Browne starts up, draws his sword, and runs out.

Thus is he gone whilst they are all secure,

Eesolved to put these desperate thoughts in ure

30 A WAliNING FOE FAIIi WOMEN. [H- !

They follow liim, aud them will I attend,

Until I bring them all unto their end. [Exeunt.

SCENE I.— London. A Street.

Enter Sanders and one or two with Mm.

San. You see, sir, still I am a daily guest
But with so true friends as I hold yourself,
I had rather be too rude than too precise.
Gent, Sir, this house is yours you come but to your own,
;

And what else I call mine, is wholly yours

So much I do endear your love, sweet master Sanders. —
A light, ho, there !

San. Well, sir, at this time I'U rather be

Unmannerly than ceremonious.
I'll leave you, sir, to recommend my thanks 10
Unto your kind, respective wife.
Gent. Sir, for your kind patience, she 's much be-
holding to you ; and I beseech you remember me to
mistress Sanders.
San. Sir, I thank you for her.
Gent. Sirrah, ho ! Who 's within, there ?

Enter Prentice.

Pren. Sir ?
Gent. Ijight a torch there, and wait on master Sanders
home.
Saw. It shall not need, sir, it is light enough ; 20
Let it alone.
Gent. Nay, I pray ye, sir.
San. I' faith, sir, at this time, it shall not need :
II. 1.] .-( WARNING FOR FAIR WOMEN. 31

'Tis very light, the streets are full of people,

And T have some occasion Ly the way,
That may detain me.
Gent. Sir, I am sorry that you go alone
'Tis somewhat late.

San. 'Tis well, sir. God send you happy rest!

Gent God bless you, sir Passion of me I had forgot
! !

One thing; I am glad I thought of it before we parted. 30

Your patience, sir, a little. \B.e enters the Bouse.

Here enters Browne speaking, in casting one side of his cloah

under Ms arm. [Re-enter Gentleman.] While Master
Sanders and he are in busy talk one to the other, Browne
steps to a corner.

Bro. This iray he should come, and a fitter place

The town affords not. 'Tis his nearest way,
And 'tis so late, he will not go about.
Then stand close, George, and with a lucky arm
Sluice out his life, the hinderer of thy love.
Oh, sable night, sit on the eye of heaven.
That it discern not this black deed of darkness !

My guilty soul, burnt with lust's hateful fire.

Must wade through blood t' obtain my vile desire. 40

Be then my coverture, thick ugly night
The light hates me, and I do hate the light.
San. Good night, sir.
Geut. Good night, good master Sanders
;

Sir, I shall .see you on the Exchange to-morrow ?

San. You siiall, God willing, sir. Good night.
[Exit Gentleman.

Bro. I hear him coming fair unto my stand :

32 A WAIiMKG FCE FAIE WOMEN. \n. 1-

Murder and deatli s-it un 013- fittal baud

Enter a Givlleman, with a man with a Torch before.

Browne draws to strike.

Gent. Who's there?

San. A friend.
Gent, Master Sanders ? Well met
San. Good even, gentle sir, so are you.
Gent. Where have you been so late, sir? 50
Bro. A plague upon 't ! A light and company
E'en as I was about to do the deed.
See how the devil stumbles in the nick. [Aside.
San. Sir, here at a friend's of mine in Lombard Street
At supper, where, I promise you,
Our cheer and entertainment was so great.
That we have passed our hour ;

Believe me, sir, the evening 's stolen away,

I see 'tis later than I took it for.

Gent. Sirrah, turn there at the corner; since 'tis late,

I will go home with master Sanders. 61

San. No, I pray you, sir, trouble not yourself;
Sir, I beseech you. ^

Gent. Sir, pardon me ; — sirrah, go on, now ;

Where we are, my way lies just with yours.

San. I am beholding to you.
[Exeunt. Browne cometh out alone.
Bro. Except by miracle, thou art delivered
As was never man !

My sword unsheathed, and with the piercing steel

Ready to broach his bosom, and my purpose 70
Thwarted by bome malignant, envious star !
II. 2.] A WARNING FOR FAIR WOMEN. S3

Night, I could stab thee ! I could stab myself,

I am so mad that he [ejscaped my hands.
How like a fatal comet did that light,
With this portentious vision, fright mine eyes
A masque of devils walk along with thee,
And thou the torch-bearer unto them all

Thou mayst thou be extinct

fatal brand, ne'er
Till thou hast set that damned house on fire
Where he is lodged, that brought thee to this place ! 80
Sanders, this hand doth hold that death alone,
And bears the seal of thy destruction.
Some other time shall serve. Till thou be dead.
My fortunes yet are ne'er accomplished. [Exit.

f-CENE II.— Woolwich. A Public Boad.

Enter Master Barnes, and John Beane his Man.

Bea. Must I go first to Greenwich, sir ?

Bar. What else ?

Bea. by water, for it ebbs
I cannot go
The wind 's at west, and both are strong against us.
Bar. My meaning is that you shall go by land,
And come by water though the tide be late,
;

Fail not to be at home again this night,

With answer of those letters which ye have.

This letter give to master Cofferer ;

If he be not at Court when ye come there,

Leave 't at his chamber in any case. 10
Pray master Sanders to be here next week.
About the matter at St. Mary-Cray.
Bea. Methinks, sir, under your correction,
34 A n AliMNG FOl! FAIR WOMEN. [II. i'.

Next week is ill-appointed.

Bar. WI13', I pray ye ?

Bea. 'Tis Easter week, and every holiday

Are sermons at the Spittle.
Bar. What of that?
Bea.Can roaster Sanders then be spared to come?
Bar. Well said, John fool I hope at afternoon
!

A pair of oars may bring him down to Woolwich :

Tell him he must come down in any wise. 20 '

Bea. What shall I bring from London ?

Bar. A fool's head.

Bea. A calf's head 's better meat

'Tis Maundy Thursday, sir, and every butcher
Now keeps open shop.
Bar. Well, get ye gone, and hie ye home. How now!
[Beane stumbles twice.

What, art thou drunk, canst thou not stand?

Bea. Yes, sir

I did but stumble ;

God send me good luck !

I was not wont to stumble on plain ground.

Bar. Look better to your feet, then. [Exit.

Bea. Yes, forsooth

And yet I do not like it. At my setting forth, 30
They say it does betoken some mischance.
I fear not drowning if the boat be good !

There is no danger in so short a cut.

Betwixt Blackwall and Woolwich is the wrorst,
And if the waterman will watch the anchors,
I'll watch the catches and the hoys myself.
Well, I must go. Christ's cross, God be my speed !
II. 2.] A WAHNING FOn FAIR WOMEN. 35

Enter Old John, and Joan Ms maid.

Who comes there, a God's name ? This woody way,
Doth harbour many a false knave they say. 39
John. False knaves, ha Where be they ? let me see
!

them. Mass, as old as I am, and have little skill, I'll

hamper a false knave yet in my hedging-bill. Stand !

Thief or true man ?

Joan. it is John Beane.

Master,
John. John Beane, why, whither away by land?
Jesu !

What make you wandering this woody way ?

Walk ye to Greenwich, or walk ye to Cray ? 47
Bea. To Greenwich, father John. Good morrow,
good morrow! Good morrow, Joan, good morrow, sweet,
to thee ! 50
Joan. A
thousand good morrows, gentle John Beane !

I am glad I met ye, fur now I have my dream. I have

been so troubled with ye all this night, that I could not
rest for sleeping and dreaming. Methought you were
grown taller and fairer, and that ye were in your shirt
and methought it should not be you, and yet it was you :

and that ye were all in white, and went into a garden,

and there was the umberst sort of flowers that ever I
see :and methought yon lay down upon a green bank,
and I pinned gilliflowers in your ruff, and then me-
thought your nose bled, and as I ran to my chest to fetch
ye a, handkercher, methought I stumbled, and so waked.
What does it betoken ? 63
Bea.Nay, I cannot tell. But I like neither thy dream
nor my own, for I was troubled with green meadows,
and bulls fighting and goring one another, and one of
them, methought, ran at me, and I ran away, that I
36 A WAHIilKG FCS FAIR WOMEN. [11. 2.

sweat in my sleep for fear. 68

John. Tut, fear uotliing, John Beane. Dreams are
but fancies. I dreamed, nij-self, last night, that I
heard the Barking as plain to our town of
bells of
Woolwich as if I had lain in the steeple and that I ;

should be married, and to whom, trowest thou? but to

the fine gentlewoman of London that was at your mas-
ter's the lastsummer ! 75
Bea. Who, mistress Sanders ? I shall see her anon,
for I have an errand to her husband. Shall I tell her
ye dreamed of her ?

John. God forbod

no she '11 laugh at me, and caU
! ;

me Art thou going to London ?

old fool. 80
Bea. Yea, when I have been at the Court at Green-
wich. Whither go you, and j'our maid Joan ?
John. To stop a gap in my fence, and to drive home
a cow and a calf that is in my close at Shooter's hill foot.
Bea. 'Tis well done. Mass, I am merry since I met
you two, would your journey lay along with mine
1
So would I with all my heart, John. Pray ye
Joan.
bestow a groat, or sixpence, of carnation ribbon to tie
my smock sieves, they flap about my hands too bad and ;

I'll give you your money again. 90

Bea. That I wiU, i' faith ! Will you have nothing,
father John?
John. No, God-a-mercy, son John ; but I would thou
hadst my Aqua vita bottle to fill at the Black Bull by
Battle bridge.
Bea. So would I. Well, here our ways part you ;

must that way, and I this.

John. Why, John Beane, canst part with thy love
II. 2.] A WARNING FOR FAIR WOMEN. 37

without a kiss ? 99
Bea. Ye saj' true, father Jolin. My business puts
kissing out of my mind. Farewell, sweet Joan.
\IIe hisses her.

Joan. Farewell, sweet John. I pray ye have a care

of yourself for my dream and bless ye out of swag-
;

gerers' company, and walk not too late. My master and

1 will pray for ye.
John. That we will, i' faith, John Beans. 107
Bea. God be with ye both I could e'en weep to see
!

how kind they are unto me. There's a wench Well, !

if I live, I'll make her amends. [Exeunt.

SCENE III. — London. A Street near Billingsgate.

Enter Browne and Drury.

Bro. Nay, speak your conscience ; was 't not strange

fortune
That at the instant when my sword was drawn,
And I had thought to have nailed him to a post,
A light should come, and so prevent my purpose ?

Dru. It was w), master Browne ; but let it pass

Another time shall serve. Never give o'er.
Till you have quite removed him out your way.
Bro. And if I do, let me be held a coward,
And no more wortliy to obtain her bed.
Than a foul negro to embrace a queen. 10
Dru. You need not quail for doubt of your reward.
You know already she is won to this.
What by my persuasion and your own suit.
That you may have her company when you will;
38 A llARMKO FOR FAIR WOMEN. [U.S.

And she herself is thoroughly resolved

None but George Browne must be her second husband.
Bro. Tlie hope of tliat makes uie a-uights to dream
Of nothing but the death of wretched Sanders,
Which I have vowed in secret to my soul
Shall not be long before that be determined. 20
But I do marvel that our scout returns not
Trusty Roger, whom we sent to dog him.
Dru. The knave 's so careful, master Browne, of you,
As he will rather die than come again,
Before he find fit place to do the deed.
Bro. 1 am beholding both to you and him ;

And, misti'f'ss Drury, I'll requite your loves.

Enter Roger.

Dru. By the mass, see where the whoreson comes,

Puffing and blowing, almost out of breath ! 29
Bro. Eoger, how now, where hast thou been all day?
Bog. Where have [ been ? where I have bad a jaunt
Able to tire a horse.
Bro But dost thou bring
Any good news where I may strike the stroke
Shall make thyself and me amends for all ?
Boy. That gather by the circumstance. First know
That in the moruing, till 't was nine o'clock,
I watched at Sanders' door till he came forth ;

Then followed him to Cornhill, where he stayed

An hour talking in a merchant's warehouse.
From thence he went directly to the Burse, 40
And there he walked another hour at least,
And I at's heels. By this it struck eleven;
II. 3.] A WAjRKIKG for FAIR WOMEN. 39

Home then he comes to dinner. By the way

He chanced to meet a gentleman of the Court,
With whom as he was talking, I drew near,
And at his parting from him heard him say
That in the afternoon, without all fail.
He would be witli him at the Court. This done,
I watched him at his door till he had dined ;

Followed him to Lioii quay saw him take boat, ;

And in a pair of oars, as soon as he, 50

Landed Greenwich where, ever since,
at ;

I traced him to and fro with no less care

Than I had done before, till at the last
I heard him call unto a waterman.
And bade he should be ready, for, by six,
He meant be at London back again.
to
With that away came I to give you notice,
That as he lands at Lion quay this evening.
You might despatch him, and escape unseen. 59
Bro. Hodge, thou hast won my heart by this day's work.
Dru. 15eshrew nu', but he hath taken mighty pains.
Bro. Eoger, come hither. There's for thee to drink;
And one day I will do thee greater good.
Bog. I thank you,
sir. Hodge is at your command.
Bro. Now, mistress Drury, if you please, go home;
'Tis much upon tlie hour of his return.
Bog. Nay, I am sure he will be here straightway.
Dru. Well, I will leave you, for 'tis somewhat late.
God speed your hand and so, master Browne, good night.
;

Bog. Mistress, I pray you, spare me for this once ; 70

I'll be so bold as stay with master Browne.

Bru. Do : and, master Browne, if you prevail,

40 A WARNING FOR FAIR WOMEN. [H. 3.

Come to my house ; I'll have a bed for you. \Exit.

Bro. You shall have knowledge if I chance to speed,

But I'll not lodge in London for a-while,
Until the rumour shall be somewhat past.
Come, Eoger, where is 't best to take our standing ?

Eog. Marry, at this corner, in my mind.

Bro. I like it well, 'tis dark and somewhat close.

By reason that the houses stand so near. 80

Beside he should land at Billingsgate,
if

Yet are we still betwixt his house and him.

Eog. You say well, master Browne, 'tis so indeed.
Bro, Feace, then ! No more words, for being spied.

Enter Anne Sanders and John Beane.

Anne. 1 marvel, John, thou sawst him not at Court,

He hath been there ever since one o'clock.
Bea. Indeed, mistress Sanders, I heard not of him.
Anne. Pray God that Captain Browne hath not been
moved
By some ill motion to endanger him !

I greatly fear it, he 's so long away. [Aside.

But tell me, Jolm, must thou needs home to-night? 91
Bea. Yes, of necessity ; for so my master bade.
Anne. If it be possible, I prythee stay
Until my husband comes.
Bea. I dare not, trust me
And I doubt tliat I have lost my tide already.
Anne. Nay, that 's not so : come, I'U bring thee to
the quay ;

I hope we meet my husband by the way.

shall
Bog. That should be mistress Sanders, by her tongue.
II. 3.] A WAKNIKG FOR FAIR WOMEN. 41

Bro. It is my love. Oh, how the dusky night 100

Is by her tomiug forth ruade sheen and bright
I'll know of her why she 's abroad so late.
Bog. Take heed, master Browne. See where Sanders —
comes !

-Bro. A plague upon 't Now I am prevented

!
;

She being by, how can I murder him ?

Eiiicr Sanders [and a Watermmi].

San. Your fare 's but eighteen pence ; here 's half-
a-orown.
Waterman. I thank your worship. God give ye good
night
San. Good night, with all my heart
Anne. Oh, here he is, now. — 110
Husband, you 're welcome home. Now, Jesu, man.
That you will be so late upon the water !

San. M> business, sweetheart, was such I could not

choose.
Anne Here 's master Barnes' man hath stayed all day
To speak n'ith you.
San. John Beane, welcome. How is 't ?

How doth thy master, and all our friends at Woolwich ?

Bea. when I came thence.

All in good health, sir,

San. And what's the news, John Beane?

Bea. My master, sir, requests you that upon Tuesday
next you would take the pains to come down to Wool-
wich, about the matter you wot of. 122
San. Well, John, to-morrow thou shalt know my mind.
Bea. Nay, sir, I must to Woolwich by this tide.

San. What, to-night ? There is no such haste, I hope.

42 A llAliMKG FOR FAIR WOMEN. [H- 3.

Bea. Yes, trulj', with your pardon, it must be so.

San. Well then, if, John, you will be gone, commend

Me to your master, and tell him, without fail

On Tuesday, sometime of the day, I'll see him ;

And so good night.

Anne. Commend me, likewise, to thy master, John.
Bea. I thank you, mistress Sanders, for my cheer
Your commendations shall be delivered. 132
[Exeunt Sanders, Anne, and Beane.
Bro. I would thyself and he were both sent hence,
To do a message to the devil of hell.
For interrupting this my solemn vow !

But, questionless, some power, or else prayer

Of some religious friend or other, guards him :

Or else my sword 's Unfortunate. 'Tis so

This metal was not made to kill a man.
BogGood master Browne, fret not yourself so much :

Have you forgot what the old proverb is f 141

'The third time pays for all.' Did you not hear
That he sent word to master Barnes of Woolwich,
He would be with him as on Tuesday next ?
Twixt that and then, lie you in wait for him ;

And though he have escaped your hand so oft.

You may be sure to pay him home at last.
Bro. Fury liad almost made me pass myself
'TisweU remembered ! Hodge, it so shall be.
Some place will I pick out as he does pass, ],5o
Either in going or iu coming back,
To end his hateful life. Come, away,
let 's
And at thy mistress' house we
spend this night
'11

In consultation how it may be wrought. [Exeunt

III. D. s.] A WARNING FOR FAIR WOMEN. 43

ACT III.

The Ddmb Show.

Enter Tragedy.

Trag. Twice, as you see, this sad, distressed man,

Tiie only mark whereat foul Murder shot.
Just in the loose of envious, eager death,
By accidents strange and miraculous,
Escaped the arrow aimed at his heart.
Suppose him on the water now for Woolwich, ,

For secret business with his bosom friend ;

Erom thence, as fatal destiny conducts him.

To Mary-Cray, by some occasion called.
Which by false Drury's means made known to Browne, 10
Lust, Gain, and Murder spurred this villain on
Still to pursue this unsuspecting soul.
And now the dreadful hour of death is come.
The dismal morning when the Destinies
Do shear the labouring vital thread of life,
Whenas the Iamb left in the woods of Kent
Unto this ravenous wolf becomes a prey.
Now of his death the general intent
Thus Tragedy doth to your eyes present.
[The music playing, enters Lust bringing forth Browne and
lioger at one end, Mistress Sanders and Mistress Drury
at the other, they offering cheerfully to meet and em-
brace. Suddenly riseth up a gr>iat tree between them ;
whereat amazedly they step back ; whereupon Lust
bringeth an axe to Mistress Sanders, shewing signs that
44 A WARNING F(1B FAIR WOMEN. [HI- »• s.

sJie should cut it down; which she refuseth, albeit Mis-

tress Brury offers to help her. Then Lust brings the

axe to Broione, and shevs the like signs to him as he-

fore. Whereupon he roughly and suddenly hews down
the tree, and then they run together and embrace. With
that enters Chastity, with her hair dishevelled, and talcing

mistress Sanders by the hand, brings her to her husband's

picture hanging on the wall, and, pointing to the tree,

seems to tell her that that is the tree so rashly cut down.
Whereupon she, wringing her hands, in tears departs.

Browne, Brury, Eoger and Lust whispering, he draws his

sword, and Roger follows him. Tragedy expressing
that now he goes to act the deed.

Lust leads together this adulterous rout, 20

But, as you see, are hindered thus, before
They could attain unto their foul desires.
The tree springs up, whose body, whilst it stands,
Still keeps them back when they would fain embrace.

Whereat they start, for fury evermore

and envy.
Is full replete with fear
Lust giveth her the axe to cut it down,
To rid her husband whom it represents.
In which this damned woman would assist her
But though by them seduced to consent, 30
And had a finger in her husband's blood,
Could not be won to murder him herself.
Lust brings the axe to Browne, who suddenly
Doth give the fatal stroke unto the tree
;

Which being done, they embrace together

The act performed, now Chastity appears.
And pointing to the picture and the tree,
III. 1.] A WAHKIKG FOR FAIB WOMEN. 45

Unto her guilty conscience shows her husband,

Even so cut off by that vile murderer Browne
She wrings her hands repenting of the fact, 40
Touched with remorse, but now it is too late.
What's here expressed, in act is to be done;
The sword is drawn, the murderer forth doth run:
Lust leads him on, he follows him with speed,
The only actor in this damned deed. \Exit-

SCENE. l.—A Wood near Shooter's Hill.

Enter Browne reading a letter, and Boger,

Bro. Did I but waver, or were unresolved,

These lines were able to encourage me.—
Sweet Nan, I kiss thy name, and for thy sake.
What coward would not venture more than this ?
Kill him Yea, were his life ten thousand lives,
!

Not any spark or cinder of the same

Should be unquenched in blood at thy request.
Roger, thou art assured he'll come this way?
Bog. Assured, sir ? why, I heard him say so :

For having lodged at Woolwich all last night 10

As soon as day appeared, I got me up.
And watched aloof at master Barnes' door,
Till he and master Sanders both came forth.
Bro. Till both came forth! what, are they both to-
gether?
Bog No, sir ; master Barnes himself went back again,
And left his man to bear him company,

John Beane, you know him ; he that was at London

When we laid wait for him at Billingsgate.
 JO A v. ALMS Cr FOR FAIR WOMEN. [III. 1.

Bro. It. it that stripling? wfll, no more ado.

Eoger, go tliou unto the hedge corner, 20
At the hill-foot there stand and cast thine eye
;

Towards Greenwich park see if Blackheath be ;

clear,
Lest by some passenger we be descried.
Bog. Shall ye not need my help, sir? they are twain.
Bro. No; were they mine arm
ten, is strong enough,
Even of itself, to buckle with them all
And ere George Sanders shall escape me now,
I will not reek what massacre I make.
Bog. Well, sir, I'll go and watch ; and when I see
Anybody coming, I'll whistle to you. [Exit.

Bro. Do so, I prythee. — I would be alone, 31

My thoughts are studious and unsociable.
And so's my body, till this deed be done.
But let me see, what time a-day is't now ?
1 It cannot be imagined by the sun,
) For why, I have not seen it shine to-day
Yet as I gather, by my coming forth.
Being then six, it cannot now be less
\
Than half an hour past seven the air is gloomy ;

No matter — darkness best fits my intent. 40

Here wiU I walk and after shroud myself
;

Within these bushes, when I see them come.

Enter Master Sanders and John Beane.

San. Jolm Beane, this is the right way, is it not ?

Bea. Ay, sir would to God we were past this wood
;
!

San. AN'hy, artthou afraid? See, yonder's company.

Bro. Tliey have espied me; I will slip aside.

^ Bea. G )(1, sir, I am heavy at the heart !

-f-
III. 1.] A JrAENING FOB FAIR WOMEN. 47

Good master Sanders, let's return back to Woolwich,

Methinks I go this way against my will. ^
San. Why so, I prythee ?

Bea. Truly, I do not like 50

The man we saw ; he slipped so soon away
Behind the buslies.
Sail. Trust me, John, nor T ;

But yet, God willing, we will keep our way.

Bea. I pray you, sir, let us go back again ;+-
I do remember now a dream was told me, '

That might I have the world, I cannot choose

But tremble every joint to think upon't. ^
San. But we are men, let 's not be so faint-hearted
As to affright ourselves with visions.
Come on, a God's name !

[Browne steps out and strikes up Beane's heels.

Bea. Oh, we are undone ! 60

Sail. What seek ye, sir?
Bro. Thy blood which I will have.
;

San. Oh, take mymoney, and preserve my life !

Bro. It is not millions that can ransom thee,

Nor this base drudge, for both of you must die.
Sail. Hear me a word —
you are a gentleman,
;

Soil not your hands with blood of innocents.

Bro. Thou speak'st in vain. [He stabs Sanders.

San. Then God forgive my sin !

Have mercy on me, and upon thee, too,

The bloody author of my timeless death ! I

Bro. Now my handkercher in his blood,H

will I dip 70
And send it as a token of my love.

Look how many wounds my hand hath given him; —

 48 A WABMNG FOE FAIR WOMEN. [HI. 1.

So many holes I'll make within this cloth.

San. Jesu, rfceive my t^oul into thy hands [DaVs.!

Bro. What sound «as that ? It was not he that spake!

The breath is vanished from his nostrils.
Was it No, his wounds are such,
the other
?

As he is likewise past the use of speech.

Who was it, then, that thundered in mine ears
ir The name of Jesu? Doubtless 'twas my conscience; 80
And I am damned for this unhallowed deed.
Oh, sin, how hast thou blinded me till now Y !

Promising me security and rest.

But giv'st me dreadful agony of soul.
What shall I do, or whither shall I fly ?

The very bushes will discover me !

See how their wounds do gape unto the skies,

Calling for vengeance.

Elder Roger.

Ii"iJ. How now, master Browne ?

What, have you done? Why, so, let's away,
For I have spied, come riding o'er the heath, 90
Some half a dozen in a company'.
Bro. Away To Loudon thou I'll to the Court,
!
;

And show myself, and after follow thee.

Give this to mistress Sanders. [Gives him the handkerchief.
Bid her read
Upon this bloody handkercher the thing
As I did promise, and have now performed :

But were it, Eoger to be done again,

I would not do it for a kingdom's gain.
Ro<j. Tut, faint not now ; come let us haste away.
 Ill- !] A WAHKIKO FCIl FAIB WOMEN. 49

Jiro. Oh, I must fear, whatever thou dost

say 100 !

My shadow, if liought else, will me betray.

[Exeunt.
[Beane left wowidtd and for dead, stirs and creeps.
Bea. Dare I look up, for fear he
yet be near,
That thus hath martyred me Yea, the coast is '?
clear :

For all these deadly wounds, yet lives my heart.

Alack, how loth poor life is from my limbs to part
I cannot go, ah no ! I cannot stand ;

God that some g(jod body were near hand.

!

To help me home to Woolwich ere I die

To creep that way-ward whilst I live I'll try.
Oh, could I crawl but from this cursed wood,
110
Before I drown myself in my own blood !

Enter Old John, and Joan.

John. Now, by my father's saddle, Joan, I think we

are bewitched. My beasts were never wont to break out
so often sure as death the harlotries are bespoken
;
but ;

that heifer with the white back that leads them

it is
all
a-gadding, a good luck take her
Ug !

Joan. It is not dismal day, master ; did ye look in the

Aminicke ? If it be not, then 'tis either 'long of the
brended cow, that was ne'er well in her wits since the
butcher bought her calf or long of my dream or of
my nose bleeding this morning, for as I was washing my ^/
;
;

hands, my nose bled three drops then I thought of ;

John Beane,— God be with him !— for I dreamed he was

married, and that our white calf was killed for his wed-
ding dinner. God bless them both, for I love them both
well ! [Beane creeps. 226
John. Marry, amen, for I tell thee my heart is heavy
 50 A llAliMNQ FOR FAIR WOMEN. [III. 1.

God send me good luck my ej-es dazzle, and I

: oould
weep. Lord bless u.s ! What sight is this? Look, Joan,
and cross thyself. 130
Joan. Oh, master, master, look in my purse for a piece
of ginger ; I shall .sweb, I shall swouud Cut my lace,
!

and cover my John Beane, killed,

face, I die, else ; it is

cut, slain Master, and ye be a man, lielp

!

Jolm John Beane ? Now Gods forbod, alock, alock !

Good John, how came ye in this piteous plight? Speak,

good John nay, groan not; speak Who has done this
; !

deed ? Thou hast not furedone thyself, hast thou ?

Bea. Ah no, no ! 139
Joan. Ah no, no, he need not have done that, for
God knows I loved him as dearly as he loved me speak, ;

John who did it?

;

Bea. One in a white doublet and blue breeches he ;

has slain another, too, not far ofE. Oh, stop my wounds
if ye can ! 145
John. Joan, take my
napkin and thy apron, and bind
up his wounds ; and cows go -where they will, till we
have carried him home.
Joan. Woe worth him, John, that did this dismal deed ;

Heart-break be his mirth, and hanging be his meed 150 !

John. Ah, well-a-day see where another lies, a hand-

!

-some, comely, ancient gentleman what an age live we :

\ in, when men have no mercy of men more than of dogs

bloodier than beasts This is the deed of some swag-
!

gering, swearing, drunken, desperate Dick. Call we them

Cabbaleers Mass, they be Canniballes, that have the
?

stab readier in their hands than a penny in their purse.

Shame's death be their share Joan, hast thou done ? !
in. 1.] A WARDING FOR FAIR WOMEN. 51

Come, lend uic a hand to lay this good man in some bush,
from birds and froni beasts, till we carry home John
Beans to his uiasterV, and raise all Woolwich to fetch
home this man, and make search. Lift, there, Joan :

so, so. {^J^^teij carry out Sanders, and return.

Bea. Lord, comfort my soul, my body is past cure. 164
John. Now let's take up John Beane : softly, Joan,
Bo|tly
Joan. Ah, John, little thought I to have carried thee
thus, within this week ; but my hope is aslope, and my
joy is laid to sleep. [Exeunt bearing off Beane.

SCENE II.— Greenwich. The Palace buttery.

Enter a Yeoman of the buttery, Browne, and Master James.

Yeo. Welcome, master Browne ; what is 't you '11

drink, ale or beer ?

Bro. Marry, ale, and if you please ;

You see, sir, I am bold to trouble you.

Yeo. No trouble sir, at all ; the queen, our mistress,
Allows this bounty to all comers, much more
To gentlemen of your sort some ale, there, ho :
— !

Enter one with a Jach, and Court dish.

Here, master Browne, thus much to your health.

Bro. I thank you, sir nay, prythee fill my cup. ;

Here, master James, to you, with all my heart. 10

How say you now, sir, was I not a-dry ?
Yeo. Believe me, yes wilt please ye mend youf ;

draught ?

Bro. No more, sir ; in this heat it is not good.

52 A WAUNING FOU FAIJR WOMEN. [III. 2.

James. It seems, master Browne, that you have gone

apace.
Came you from London that you made such haste?
But soft, what have I spied ? Your hose is bloody !

Bro. How, blood}', where ? Good sooth, 'tis so indeed

Yeo. It seems it is but newly done.

Bro. No more it is ;

And now remember how it came

I do
Myself, and some two or throe gentlemen more, 20
Crossing the field, this morning, here, from Eltham,
Chanced by the way to start a brace of hares,
One of the which we killed, the other 'scaped,
And pulling forth the garbage this befeU
But 'tis no matter ; it will out again.
Yeo. Yes, there 's no doubt, with a
little soap and water.

James. would I had been with you at that sport.

I
Bro. I would you had, sir, 'twas good sport indeed.
Now, afore God, this blood was ill espied 29 ;

But my excuse, I hope, will serve the turn. [Aside,

Gentlemen, I must to London this forenoon.
About some earnest business doth concern me
Thanks for my ale, and your good companies.
Both. Adieu, good master Browne.
Bro. Farewell unto you both. \Exit
James. An
honest, proper gentleman as lives.
God be with you, sir I'll up into the Presence.
:
37
Yeo. Y' are welcome, master James ; God be with ye,
sir [Exemt.
III. 3.] A WARNING FOR FAIR WOMEN. 53

SCENE III. — London. A Eoovi in Sanders' House.

Enter Anne Sanders, Anne Brury, and Roger ; Drury hav-

ing the bloody handkercher in her hand
Anne. Oh, show not me that ensign of despair,
But hide it, burn it, bury it in tiie earth ;

It is a kalender of bloody letters,

Containing bis, and yours, and all our shames.
Dru. Good mistress Sanders, be not so outrageous.
Anne. What tell you me ? Is not my husband slain?
Are not we guilty of his cruel death ?

Oh, my dear husband, I wiU follow thee !

Give me a knife, a sword, or anything.

Wherewith I may do justice on myself; 10
Justice for murder, justice for the death
Of my dear husband, my betrothed love !

Bog. These exclamations will bewray us all

Good mistress Sanders, peace !

Dru. I pray you, peace :

Your servants, or some neighbours else, will hear.

Anne. Shall I fear more my servants, or the world,
Than God himself ? He heard our treachery,
And saw our complot and conspiracy.
Our heinous sin cries in the ears of Him,
Ijouder than we can cry upon the earth. //' 20
A woman's sin, a wife's inconstancy :

God, that I was born to be so vile !

So monstrous and prodigious for my lust.

Fie on this pride of mine, this pampered flesh !-h
1 will revenge me on these 'ticing eyes,
54 A WAliMKG FOU FAIll WOMEN. [HI. 3.

And tear them out for being aiuourous.

Oh, Sanders, my dear husband ! Give me leave ;

Why do you hold me ! Are not my deeds ugly ?

Let then my faults be written in my face.

Dm, Oh, do not offer violence to j'ourself ! 30
Anne. Have done so already ? Is not
I not
The better part of me by me misdone ?
My husband, is he not slain is he not dead ? —
But you labour to prevent my grief,
since
I'll hide me in some closet of my house.

And there weep out mine eyes, or pine to death,

That have untimely stopped my husband's breath. [Exit.
Dru What shall we do, Eoger ? Qo thou and watch
For master Browne's arrival from the Court,
And bring him hither happily his presence
; 40
Will be a means to drive her from this passion.
In the mean space I will go after her,
And do the best I can to comfort her.
Bog. I will ; take heed she do not kill herself.

Dru. For God's sake haste thee, and be circumspect.

[Exeunt.

SCENE IV. — London. The Street before Sanders' House.

Enter Sanders' young Son, and Harry, coming from School,

Son. Come, Harry, shall we play a game ?

Harry. At what t
Son. Why, at cross and pile.
Har. You have no counters.
Son. Yes, but I have as many as you.
Har. I'll drop with you, and he that has most, take all.
 III. 4.] A WARNING FOR FAIR WOMEN. 55

Son. No, sir ; if j'ou '11 play a game ('tis not yet
-f twelve, by half an hour) I'll set you like a gamester.
Har. Go to ; where shall we play ?

Son. Here, at our door. 10

^- Ear. What and your father find us? ^^-'-'''
if

Son. No, he'sj-t AVoolwich, and will not come home

to-night.
Mar. Set me, then, and here's a good.

Enter Browne, and Boger.

Bro. Is she so out of patience as thou sayst?

Bog. Wonderful, sir ; I have not seen the like.
Bro What does she mean by that ? Nay, what mean I,
To ask the question ? Has she not good cause ?
Oh, yes and we have, every one of us, just cause
;

To hate and be at variance with ourselves. 20

But come I long to see her.
; [He spies the hoy.
Bog. How now, captain ?

Why stop you on the sudden go you not ? ? Why

What makes you look so ghastly towards the house ?

Bro. Is not the foremost of those pretty boys

One of George Sanders' sons ?

Bog. Yes, 'tis his youngest.

y Bro. Bothyoung'st and eld'st are now made fatherless,

By my unlucky hand. I prythee go
And take him from the door ; the sight of him
Strikes such a terror to my guilty conscience,
As I have not the heart to look that way, 30
Nor stir my foot until he be removed.
Methinks in him I see his father's wounds
Fresh bleeding in my sight ; nay, he doth stand
 56 A WABl^IKG F( S FAIR WOMEN. [HI. 4.

4 Like to an angel with a fiery sword,

\ To bar mine entrance at that fatal duor.

I prythee step and take him quickly thence.

Bog. Away, my pretty boy, your master comes,
And you'll be taken playing in the street.
What, games
at unlawful Away, be gone
! !

young Sanders, you'll be jerked;

'Tis dinner-time, 40
Your mother looks for you before this time.
Son. Gaffer, if you'll not tell my master of me,
I'll give you this new silk point.

Bog, Go to, I will not.

Har. Nor of me, and there's two counters; I have
won no more.
Bog. Of neither of you, so you will be gone.
Smi. God be with you, ye shall see me no more.
Har. Koruje; I mean, playing at this door. [Exeunt,
Bog Now, captain, if you please, you may come
forward
But see where mistress Sanders and my mistress 50
Are coming forth to meet you on the way.

Enter Anne Sanders, and Drury.

Bru. See where master Browne is, in him take comfort.

And learn to temper your excessive grief.
Anne. Ah, bid me feed on poison and be fat

Or look upon the basilisk and live ;

Or surfeit daily and be still in health ;

Or leap into the sea and not be drowned

All these are even as possible as this,

That I should be recomfited by him

That is the author of my whole lament. 60
III. 4.] A WAIiKING FOR FAIV WOMEN. 57

Bro. Why, mistress Anne, I luve j'ou dearly,

And but for your incomparable beauty.
My soul had never dreamed of Sanders' death
Then give me that which now I do deserve,
Yourself, your love, and I will be to you
A husband so devote, as none more just.
Or more affectionate, shall tread this earth.
Anne. If you can crave it of me with a tongue
That hath not been profaned with wicked vows,
Or think it in a heart did never harbour 70
Pretence of murder, or put forth a hand
As not contaminate with shedding blood,
Then will T willingly grant your request
But, Oh ! your hand, your heart, your tongue, and eye,
Are all presenters of my misery
Bro. Talk not of that, but Jet us study now
How we may salve it, and conceal the fact.
Anne. Mountains will not suffice to cover it

Cimmerian darkness cannot shadow it ;

Nor any policy wit hath in store 80

Cloak it so cunningly, but at the last,
If nothing else, yet will the very stones
That lie within the streets cry out for vengeance
And point at us to be the murderers. [Exeunt

SCENE V. — Greenwich. A Council chamber in the Palace.

Enter three Lords, Master James, and two Messengers with

their boxes ; one Lord reading a letter.

1 Lord. 'Fore God, my lords, a very bloody act

[This hath the letter.
58 A WAKNINO FOR FAIR WOMEN. [HI. 5.

8 Lord. Yea, and committed ia eye of court,

Audaciously, as who should say he durst
Attempt a murder in despite of law.
S Lord. Pray ye let 's see your letter, good my lord.
[He takes and reads the letter.
Ten wounds at least, and deadly every wound.
And yet he lives, and tells marks of the man
E'en at the edge of Shooter's hill, so near — !

I Lord. We shall not need to send these messengers.

For hue and cry may take the murderers. 1

Enter a fourth Lord, with a Waterman and a Page.

4 Lord. Nay, sirrah, you shall tell this tale again,

Before the lords ; come on. My lords, what news ?
1 Lord. Bad news, my lord. A cruel murder's done,
Near Shooter's and here 's a letter come
hill,

Prom Woolwich, from a gentleman of worth.

Noting the manner and the marks of him.
By likelihood, that did that impious deed.
4 Lord. 'Tis noised at London that a merchant 's slain ;

Ctne master Sanders, dwelling near Thames street.

And that George Browne, a man whom we all know, 20
Is vehemently suspected for the fact,
And fled upon 't, and this same waterman,
That brought me down, says he rowed him up,
And that his hose were bloody, which he hid
Still with his hat, sitting barehead in the boat,

And sighed and stared as one that was afraid.

How sayst thou, sirrah, was 't not so he did ?
Wat. Yes, and 't please your lordship, so it was.
1 Lord. What did he wear ?
III. 5.] A WAENIKG FOR FAIR WOMEN. 59

Wat. A doublet of white satin,

And a large pair of breeches of blue silk. 30
2 Lord. Was he so suited when you drank with him
Here in the buttery ?

James. Yea, my lord, he was.

3 Lord. And his hose bloody ?

James. Just as he affirms.

Lord: Confer the marks the wounded fellow teUs,
With these reports.
1 Lord [reads]. ' The man that did the deed,
Was fair and fat ; his doublet of white silk,
His hose of blue.' [Looks off.] I am sorry for George
Browne ;

'T was he, my lords !

.} Lord. The more accursed man !

Get warrants drawn and, messengers, attend.;

Call all your fellows, ride out every way 40

Post to the ports, give charge that no man pass
Without our warrant. One take boat to London
Command the sheriffs make wise and speedy search
Decipher him by all the marks you can :

Ijot blood be paid with blood in any man.

1 Lord. We were to blame, else come, my lords, let's in ;

To sign our warrants, and to send them out. [Exeunt.

SCENE VI. — London. A Boom in Drury's House.

Enter Drury, and Roger with a bag.

Dru Why, Roger, canst thou get but twenty pound,

Of all the plate that thou liadst from us both ?

Mine own 's worth twenty ; what hadst thou of her ?

60 A WARNING FOR FAIR WOMEN. [HI. 6.

Bog. Two bowls and spoons, I know not what myself ;

'Tis in a note, and I could get no more

But twenty pound.
Dm. Alas, 't will do no good !

And he must thence if he be ta'en he dies

;

On his escape, thou know'st, our safety lies.

Bog. That 's true ; alas ! what will ye have me do ?

Dru. Eun to Nan Sanders, bid her make some shift; 10

Try all her friends to help at this dead lift,

For all the money that she can devise.

And send by thee with all the haste she may
Tell her we die if Browne make any stay.
Bog. I will, I will [Exit.
Dru. Thou wilt, thou wilt alas, ;

That e'er this dismal deed was brought to pass !

But now 'tis done, we must prevent the worst.

Enter Browne.

And here comes he that makes us all accursed.

How now, George Browne ?

Bro. Nan Drury, now undone

Undone by that, that thou hast made me do. 20
Dru. I make ye do it your own love made ye do it.
!

Bro. Well, done it is what shall we now say to 't ?

;

Search is made for me, be I ta'en, I die

And there are other as far in as I.

I must beyond sea, money have I none,

Nor dare I look for any of mine own.
Dru. Here 's twenty pound I borrowed of my plate
And to your mistress I have sent for more,
By Hodge, my man.
III. 6.] A WARNING FOIi FAIR WOMEN. 61

Ee-enter Soger.
Now, Eoger, hast thou sped ?

Bog. Yea, of six pound; that she can make;

'tis all 30
She prays ye take 't in worth, and to be gone
She hears the sheriffs will be there anon,
And at our house —
a thousand commendations
:

She sends you, praying you to shift for yourself.

Bro. Even as I may. Eoger, farewell to thee
If I were richer, then thou shouldst go with me
But poverty parts company. Farewell, Nan,
Commend me to my mistress, if you can.
Dru. Step thither yourself, I dare not come there
I'll keep uiy house close, for I am in fear. 40
Bog. God be with you, good captain !

Bro. Farewell, gentle Hodge.—

Oh, master Sanders, wert thou now alive,

All London's wealth thy death should not contrive

This heat of love an hasty climbing breeds
God bless all honest tall men from such deeds ! [Exeunt.

ACT IV.

The Dumb Show.

Enter Tragedy afore the Show,

Trag. Prevailing sin having by three degrees

Made his ascension to forbidden deeds,
At first alluring their unwary minds
To like what she proposed, then practising
To draw them to consent and, last of all,
;

Ministering fit means and opportunity

&2 A WARNIKG FOU FAIR WOMEN. [IV. d. s.

To execute what she approvM good ;

Now she unveils their sight, and lets them see

The horror of their foul imnianity ;

And wrath, that all this while hath been obscured, 10

Steps forth before them in a thousand shapes
Of ghastly thoughts and loathing discontents.
So that the rest was promised, now appears
Unrest and deep affliction of the soul.
Delight proves danger, confidence despair.
As by this following show shall more appear. 16
Enter Justice and Mercy, when, having taken their seats,
Justice falls into a slumber. Then enters wronged Chas-
tity, and in dumb action uttering her grief to Mercy, is

put away : whereon she wakes Justice, who, listening her

attentively, starts up, commanding his officers to attend

her. Then go they with and fetch forth Master

her,

Sanders' body, Mistress Sanders, Brury and Boger, led

after it, and being shown it, they all seem very sorrow-

full, and so are led away. Tint Chastity shows that the
chief offender is not as yet taken, whereon Justice dis-
patcheth his servant Diligence to make further enquiry
after the murderer, and so they depart the stage with

Chastity.
Trag. Thus lawless actions and prodigious crimes
Drink not the blood alone of them they hate.
But even their ministers, when they have done
All that they can, must help to fill the scene, 20
And yield their guilty necks unto the block.
For which intent, the wrongfed Chastity,

Prostrate before the sacred throne of Justice,

With wringing hands and cheeks besprent with tears.
IV. 1.] A JJ'ARyiNG FOE FAIR WOMEN. 63

Pursues the murderers and being heard;

Of Mercy first, that in relenting words

Would fain persuade her to humility,
She turns from her, and with her tender hand
AVakes slumbering Justice when, her tale being
;
told,

And the dead body brought for instance forth, 30

Straight inquisition and search is made,
And the offenders as you did behold.
Discovered where they thought to be unseen.
Then trial now remains, as shall conclude.
Measure for measure, and lost blood for blood. [Exit.

SCENE I. — Rochester. The house of Browne, a butcher

Enter master Browne, and one Browne a hutclitir in Bochesier.

But. 'Tis marvel, cousin Browne, we see you here.

And thus alone without all company ;

You were not wont to visit Eochester,

But you had still some friend or other with you.
Bro. Such is the occasion, cousin, at this time.
And for the love I bear you, I am bold
To make myself your guest, rather than lie
In any public inn, because, indeed.
The house where I was wont to host is full
Of certain Frenchmen and their followers 10
But. Nay, cousin Browne, I would not have you think
I do object thus much, as one unwilling
To show you any kindness that I can.
My house, though homely, yet such as it is,
And I myself, will be at your command.
I love you for your namesake, and, trust me, sir,
64 A n-AIlMNG FOU FAIR WOMEN. [IV. 1.

Am proud that such a one as you will call me cousin,

Though I am sure we are no kin at all.

Bro. Yes, cousin, we are kin nor do I scorn ;

At any time to acknowledge as much, 20

Towards men of baser calling than yourself.
But. It may be so, sir but to tell you truth. ;

It seemed somewhat strange to me at first,

And I was half afraid some ill had happened,
That made you careful whom you trusted to.
Bro. Faith, cousin, none but this I owe some money. :

And one I am indebted to, of late

Hath brought his action to an outlawry.

And seeks to do me all extremity
But that I am not yet provided for him, 30
And that he shall not have his will of me,
I do absent me, till a friend of mine

Do see what order he may take with him.

But. How now, who 's this ?

Enter Master Mayw, Master James, with a Pursuivant

and others.

Mayor. Where are you, neighbour Browne?

But. Master Mayor, y'are welcome; what's the news,
sir.

You come so guarded ? Is there aught amiss ?

Bro. Heaven will have justice shown it is even so : !

[Aside.
James. I can assure you 'tis the man we seek.
Then do your office, master Mayor.
Mayor. George Browne,
I do arrest you, in her highness' name, 40
As one suspected to have murdered
IV. 1.] A WARNING FOR FAIR WOMEN. 65

George Sanders, citizen of lyondon.

Bro. Of murder, sir ? There lives not in this land
Can touch me with the thought of murder.
Mayor. Pray God it be so but you must along!
—
Before their honours, there to answer it

Here 's a commission that commands it so.

Bro. Well, sir, I do obey, and do not doubt

But I shall prove me innocent therein.
James. Come, master Mayor, it is the council's pleasure
You must assist us till we come to Woolwich, 51
Where we have order to confer at large
With master Barnes concerning this mishap.
Mayor. With all my heart farewell, good neighbour :

Browne.
But. God keep you, master Mayor, and all the rest.
And, master Browne, believe me, I am sorry
It was your fortune to have no more grace.
Bro. Cousin, grieve not for me, my case is clear 59 :

Suspected, men may be, but need not fear. [Exeunt.

SCENE II. — Woolwich. A Boom in Barnes' House.

Enter John Beane, brought in a chair, Master Barnes, and

Master James.

Bar. Sir, how much I esteemed this gentleman,

And in how high respect I held his love,

My griefs can hardly utter.
James. It shall not need ;
your love after his death
expresses it.

Bar. I would to God it could and I am very glad my !

lords of her most honourable Council, have made choice

66 A WAXMNO FOS FAIR WOMEN. [IV. 2.

of yourself, so grave a gt^utleman, to see the manner of

this cruel murder. 9

James. Sir, the most unworthy I, of many men, but

that in the high bounty of your kindness so you term
me. But, trust me master Barnes, among the rest that
was reported to them of the murder, they hardly were
induced to believe that this poor soul, having so many
wounds, [Laying Ms hand wpon him.] and all so mortal
as they were reported, with so much loss of blood, should
possibly yet live ; — why, it is past belief.
Bar. Sir, it is so ;
your worthy self can witness,
As strange to us, that look upon the wretch.
As the report thereof unto their wisdoms. 20
James. More fearful wounds, nor hurts more dangerous,
Upon my faitli, I have not seen.
Bea, Hey, ho, a little drink. Clh, my head !

Bar. Good John, how dost thou ?

Bea. Who's that ? father John ?

Bar. Nay, John, thy-master.

Bea. Lord, my belly
James. He spends more breath that issues through
his wounds,
Than through his lips.
Bea. I am dry.
Bar. John, dost thou know me ?
James. See where thy master is ; look, dost thou
know him ? 30
Bar. Sir, he never had his periit memory since the
first hour.
James. Surely he cannot last.

Bar. And yet, sir, to our seeming, I assure you

IV. 2.] A U'AHNING FOR FAIR WOMEN. 67

He sat not up so strongly, as j'ou see him,

Since he -was brought into tliis house, as now.
James. 'Tis very strange !

Enter the Mayor of Rochester, with Browne and Officers.

As I take it, master Mayor of Eochester.

Bar.
Mayor.The same, good master Barnes.
Bar. What happy fortune sent you here to Woolwich,
That yet your company may give us comfort 41
In this sad time ?
Mayor. Believe me, sad indeed, and very sad
warrant lately came to me
Sir, the Council's
About the search for one captain George Browne,
As it should seem suspected for this murder.
Whom in my search I hap'd to apprehend ;

And hearing that the bodies of the murdered

Eemained here, I thought it requisite
To make this in my way unto the Court, 50
Now going thither with the prisoner.
Bar. Believe me, sir, ye have done right good service,
And shown yourself a painful gentleman,
And shall no doubt deserve well of the state.
James. No doubt you shall, and I durst assure you so,
The Council will accept well of the same.
Bar. Good master Mayor, this wretched man of mine
Is not yet dead ; look you where he sits ;

But past all sense, and labouring to his end.

Mayor. Alas, poor wretch ! 60

Bar. Is this that Browne that is suspected to have done
TlitH murder ? A goodly man, believe me :

Too fair a creature for so foul an act.

68 A WABNING FOR FAIR WOMEN. {Vf- 2.

Bro. My name is Browne, sir.

James. I know you well; your fortunes have been fair

As any gentleman's of your repute :

But, Browne, sliould you be guilty of this fact.

As this your flight hath given shrewd suspicion.

Oh, Browne, your hands have done the bloodiest deed
That ever was committed. 70
Bro. He doth not live dare charge me with it.

James. Pray God there be not

Mayor. Sergeants, bring him near ; see if this poor

soul know him.

Bar. It cannot be ; this two day's space
He knew no creature.
Bro. Swounds, lives the villain yet?
Oh how his very sight affrights my soul
His very eyes will speak, had he no tongue.
And will accuse me. \^Aside,

\^Bar. 8et! how his wounds break out afresh in bleeding.

James. He stirs himself !

Mayor. He openeth his eyes ! 81

Bar. See how he looks upon him !

Bro. I gave him fifteen wounds,

Which now be fifteen mouths that do accuse me
In every wound there is a bloody tongue.
Which will all speak, although he hold his peace
By a whole jury I shall be accused. \^Aside.

Bar. John, dost thou hear ?Knowest thou this man ?

Bea. Yea, this is he that murdered me and master
Sanders. \S.e sinhs down.

James. Oh, hold him up !

Mayor. John, comfort thyself. 90

IV. L'.] A WAliMlS'G T(j1l fair WOMEN. 69

James. Bow him ;

give liim air.
Sar. No he 's dead
;
!

Bro. Methiuirs he is so fearful in my sight,

That were he now but where I saw him last,
For all tliis world 1 would not look on him. [Aside.
Bar The wondrous work of God, that the poor creature,
Not speaking for two days, yet now should speak , J^
T' accuse this man, and presently yield up his soul ! '

James. 'Tis very strange, and the report thereof

Can seem no less unto the lords.
Mayor. Sergeants, a-way, prepare you for the court, 100
And I will follow 3-ou immediately.
[Exeunt Officers with Browie.
Bar. Sure, the revealing of this murder's strange,
James. It is so, sir; hut in the case of blood,

ijod's justice liHth been still miraculous. n ^\

Mayor. I have heard digging up a

it told, that gr; v 3^ 0/
Wherein a man had twenty years been buried,
By finding of a nail knocked in the scalp.
By due enquiry who was buried there.
The murder yet at length did come to light.
Bar. I have heard it told, that once a traveller, 115
Being in the hands of him that murdered him,
Told him the fern that then grew in the place,
If nothing else, yet that would sure reveal him.
And seven years after, being safe in London,
There came a sprig of fern, borne by the wind,
Into the room whereas the murderer was,
At sight whereof he suddenly start up.
And then revealed the murder.
James. I'll tell you, sir, one more to quite your talo.
 70 A \] AliMNG FOR FAIR WOMEN. [IV. 2.

A woman that had made away her husband, 120

And sitting to behold a tragedj',
At Lynn, a town in Norfolk,
,\ \ Acted by players travelling that way,
Wherein a woman that !iad murdered hers
Was ever haunted with her husband's ghost.
The passion written by a feeling pen,
And acted by a good tragedian,
She was so moved with the sight thereof,
Ab shecried out, 'The play was made by her,'
And openly confess[ed] her husband's murder. 130
Bar. However theirs, God's name be praised for this !

Tou, master Mayor, I see, must to the Court,

I pray you do my duty to the lords.
Mayor. That will I, sir.
James. Come, I'll go along with you. [Exeunt.

SCENE HI.— Woolwich. TJie Justice Boom.

Enter the Lords at the Court, and Messengers.

1 Lord. Where was Browne apprehended, messenger?

2 Mes. At Eochester, my lord, in a butcher's house
of his own name, from thence brought up to Woolwich.
4 Lord. And there the fellow he left for dead with all
those wounds, affiruied thatwas he. it

1 Mes. He and with a constant voice,

did, njy lord,

Prayed God forgive Browne, and receive his soul,

And 80 departed.
1 Lord. 'Tis a wondrous thing,
(But that the power of heaven sustained him)
A man with nine or ten such mortal wounds, 10
IV. 3.] A IVAIiKIKG FOU FAIR WOMEN. 71

Not taking food, should live so many days,

And then at sight of Browne recQ-ver strength,
And speak so clieerly as they say he did.
4 Lord. Ay, and soon after he avouched the fact
Unto Browne's face, then to give up the ghost.
2 Lord 'T was God's good will it should be so, my lord !

But what said Browne, did he deny the deed ?

1 Mes. Never, my lord ; but did with tears lament

(As seemed to us) his heinous cruelty.
1 Lord. When will they come ?

1 Mes. Immediately, my lord ; 20

For they have wind and tide, and boats to wait.

Enter Master James.

James. My lords, the Mayor of Eochester is come

With Browne. [Exit.

4 Lord. Lei him come in. You, messenger.

Haste you to London to the Justices
Will them, from u see an indictment drawn
:;,

Against George Browne for murdering of George Sanders.

Enter Mayor, Browne, a Messenger, another, and

M. Humphrey.

1 Lord. Welcome, good master Mayor of Eochester.

Mayor. I humbly thank your honours.

4 Lord. We thank you,

For your great care and diligence in this, 30
And many other faithful services.
Now, master Browne, I am sorry it was your hap
To be so far from grace and fear of God,
As to commit so bloody a murder.
72 A WAliKmO Fdii FAIB WOMEN. U^. 3.

What say ye, are ye not sorry for it ?

Bro. Yes, my lord, and were it now to do,

All the world's wealth could not entice me to 't.

1 Lord. Was there any ancient quarrel, Browne,

Betwixt yourself and master Sanders ?

Bro. No.
2 Lord. Was 't for the money that he had about him ?
Bro. No, my good lord, I knew of none he had. 41
4 Lord. No ! I heard an inkling of the cause :

You did affect his wife, George Browne, too much.

Bro. I did, my lord, and God forgive it me.
5 Lord. Then she provoked ye to despatch him ?

Bro. No.
4. Lord. Yes ; and promised you should marry her.
Bro. No, I will take it upon my death.
1 Lord. Some other were confederate in the fact
Confess, then, Browne discharge thy conscience.
;

Bro. hour of my death.

I will, mj' lord, at 50
2 Lord. Nay, now, that they, with thee, may die for it.

Enter Master James, and delivers a letter.

4 Lord. From whom is this letter? [Opens and reads it.

James. From the sheriffs of London.
4 Lord. I told ye mistress Sanders' hand was in.

The act's confessed by two, that she knew on't.

Bro. They do her wrong, my lords, upon my life.

4 Lord. Why,
Drury's wife and Eoger do affirm,
Unto her face, that she did give consent.
Bro. God pardon them, they wrong the innocent
They both are guilty, and procured the deed, 60
And gave me money since the deedwas done
]V. 3.] A WAliNING FOJ; FAIR WOMEN. 73

Twent^'-six pound — to carry me away ;

But mihtretis iSwiiders, as hope for heaven,

[

Is guiltless, ignorant how it was done ;

But Diury's wife did bear me still in hand

If he were dead she would effect the marriage ;

And trusty Eoger, her base apple-squire,

Haunted me like a sprite till it was done.
And now, like devils, accuse that harmless soul.
1 Lord. ^Ye]l, mat-ter Browne, we're sorry for your fall;
You were a man respected of us all, 71
And noted fit for many services
And fie that wanton lust should overthrow
Such gallant parts any gentleman.
in
Now all our favours cannot do ye good.
The act's too odious to be spoken of,
Therefore we must dismiss ye to the law.
4 Lord. Expect no life, but meditate of death ;

And for the safeguard of thy sinful soul,

Conceal no part of truth for friend or foe. 80
And, master Mayor, as you have taken pains.
So finish it, and see him safe conveyed
To the Justices of the Bench at Westminster
Will them, from us to try him speedily.
That gentleman shall go along with you,
And take in writing his confession.
2 Lord. Farewell, George Browne, discharge thy con-
science,
Bro. I do, my lord, that Sanders' wife is clear.

[Exeunt.
74 A WAliNING FOR FAIR WOMEN. [IV. 4-

SCENE IV.— Westminster. The Court of King's Bench

Enter a Sheriff, Clerk of the Court, and Officers.

1 Offi, Come, let 's make haste, and well prepare this
place.
2 Offi. How well, I praj' you ? what haste more than
was wont ?

1 Offi. Whj', divers lords are come from Court to-day,

To see th' arraignment of this lusty Browne.
2 Offi. Lusty, how lusty? Now he's tame enough.
And will be tamer. Oh, a lusty youth !

Lustily fed, and lustily apparelled ;

Ijusty in look, in gait, in gallant talk ;

Lusty in wooing, in fight, in murdering,

And lustily hanged ;
there's th' end of lusty Browne! 10
1 Offi. Hold your lusty peace, for here come the lords.

Elder Lord Mayor, Lord Justice, and four other Lords.

L. Mayor. Please it your honours, place yourselves,

my lords.
L. Just. Bring forth the prisoner, and keep silence there.
Prepare the indictment, that it may be read.

Broiriic is brought in.

Clerk. To the bar, George Browne, and hold up thy

hand. .
i g
[Beads.] Thou art here indicted by the name of George
Browne, of London, gentleman, for that thou, upon the
late

twenty-fifthday of March, in the fifteenth year of the reign

of her Sacred Majesty, whom God long preserve, between the
IV. 4.] A WARNING FOR FAIR WOMEN. 75

hours of seven and eight of the clock iii the forenoon of the
same day, near unto Shooter's Hill in the county of Kent, lying
in loait of purpose and pretended malice, having no fear of
God before thine eyes, the persons of George Sanders gentle-
man, and John Beane, yeoman, then and there journeying in
God's peace and the prince's, feloniously did assault, and
with one sword, price six shillings, mortally and wilfully, in
many place didst wound unto the death, against the peace,
crown, and dignity of her Majesty. How sayest thou to these
felonious murders ? Art thou guilty or not guilty ? 30
Bro. Guilty.
i. Just. The Lord have mercy upon thee ! —Master
Sheriff, ye sliall not need to return any jury to pass upon
him, for he pleaded guilty, and stands convict at
luith
—
the bar attending his judgment. -What canst thou say
for thyself Browne, why sentence of death should not be
pronounced against thee ?
Bro. Nothing, my lord, but only do beseech
Those noblemen, assistants on that bench,
And you, my lord, who are to justice sworn, 40
As you will answer at God's judgment seat,
To have a care to save the innocent.
And, as myself, to let the guiltydie,—
That 's Drury's wife, and her man trusty Eoger.
But if Anne Sanders die, I do protest.
As a man dead in law, that she shall have
The greatest wrong that e'er had guiltless soul.
L.Just. She shall have justice, and with favour, Browne.
4- Lord. Assure yourself, Browne, she shall have no
Bro. I humbly thank your lordships. [wrong.
^ Lord. Hark ye, Browne, 50
76 A WARNING FOR FAIR WOMEN. [IV. 4.

What countryman are ye born ?

Bro. Of Ireland, and in Dublin.
L. Just. Have you not a brother called Anthony
Browne ?
Bro. Yes, my lord, whom, as I hear.
Your lordship keeps close prisoner now in Newgate.
L. Just. Well, two bad brothers ; God forgive ye both !

Bro. Amen, my lord, and you, and all the world.

L. Just. Attend your sentence.
Bro. Presently, my lord
But I have one petition first to make
Unto those noblemen, which, on my knees, 60
I do beseech them may not be denied.
J/. Lord. What is 't, George Browne ?

Bro. I know the law

Condemns a murderer be hanged in chains
to :

Oh, good, my lords, as you are noblemen,

Let be buried so soon as I am dead.
me
1 Lord. Thou shalt, thou shalt let not that trouble thee,
;

But hear thy judgment.

L. Just. Browne, thou art here by law condemned to die,

Which by thine own confession thou deserv'st.

All men must die, although by divers means, 70
The manner how is of least moment, but
The matter whj-, condemns or justifies.
But be of comfort though the world condemn,
;

Yea, though thy conscience sting thee for thy fact,

Yet God is greater than thy conscience,

And he can save whom all the world condemns,
If true repentance turn thee to His grace.
Thy time is short, therefore spend this thy time
IV. 4.] A TVAJRKING FOR FAUl WOMEN. 77

In prayer and contemplation of thy end ;

Labour to die better than thou hast lived :

God grant thou mayst Attend thy judgment now

!
:

Thou must go from hence to tlie place 81

From whence thou cam'fst,
From thence to th' appointed place of execution,
And there be hangM until thou be dead,
And thy body after at the prince's pleasure
And so the Lord have mercy upon thee, Browne.
Master sheriff, see execution. And now take him hence,
And bring those other prisoners that you have.
Bro. My lords, forget not my petitions ;

Save poor Anne Sanders, for she's innocent 90

And, good, my lords, let me not hang in chains.
j^ Lord. Farewell let none of these things trouble thee.
;

\Browne is led out, and Anne Sanders and Drury brought in.
1 Lord. See how he labours to acquit Anne Sanders.
J/. Lord. What hath his brother, that is in Newgate,
done?
L. Just. Notorious felonies in Yorkshire, my lord.

Here come the prisoners bring them to the bar : — ;

Eead their indictment master Sheriff, prepare;

Your jury ready. Command silence there !

\Aune Sanders hath a ivhite rose in her bosom.

Clerk. Anne Sanders, and Anne Drury, to the bar,

and hold up your hands.— 100

[Reads.] You are here jointly and severally indited in

form following, viz., that you, Anne Sanders, and Anne

Drury, late of London, spinsters, and thou, Roger Clement,
late of the same, yeoman, and every of you jointly and sever-
alli/, before and after the twenty-fifth day of March, last
78 A WARNING FOR FAIR WOMEN. [IV. 4.

past, in the fifteenth year of the reign of her Sacred Majesty,

whom God long preserve, having not the fear of God before
your eyes, did maliciously conspire and conclude with one
George Browne, gent., the death of George Sanders, late
husband to you, Anne Sanders, and did entice, animate, and
procure the said George Browne to murder the said Master
Sanders : and also after the said heinous murder committed,
did with money and other means aid, relieve, and abet the
said Browne, knowing him to have done the d-ied, whereby
you are all accessories both before and after the fact, con-
trary to the peace, crown, and dignity of our sovereign Lady
the Queen. Bow say ye, severally, are ye guilty, or not
guilty, as accessories both before and after, to this felony
and murder? 119
Anne. Not guilty.
Dru. Not guilty.
Clerh. How will ye be tried ?

Both. By God and by the country.

L. Just. Bring forth trusty Roger, there.

Enter Boger.

Eoger, what sayst thou to this letter ?

Who gave it thee to carry unto Browne ?

Bog. My mistress gave it me

And it on our Lady's eve.
she did write
Did mistress Sanders know thereof, or no ?
L. Just.
Bog. She read it twice before the same was sealed.
Anne. Did I, thou wicked man !

This man is hired to betray my life. 130

2 Lord. Pie, mistress Sanders, you do not well
To use such speeches, when ye see the case
IV. 4.] A WARNmo Foil FAIR WOMEN. 79

Is too, too manifest. But I pray ye,

Why du yuu wt-ar that white ruse in your bosom ?
Anne. In token of my spotless innocence :

As free from guilt as is this flower from stain.

3 Lord. I fear it will not fall out so !

L. Just. Roger, what money carried you to Browne,

After the deed, to get him gone withal?
Bog. Twenty-six pounds, which coin was borrowed,
Part of my mistress' plate, and some of mistress Sanders
L. Just. How say ye to that, mistress Sanders? 141
Anne. Indeed, 1 grant I miss[ed] some of my pla,":-^,.

And now am glad I know the thief that stole it.

Eog. Oil, God forgive ye ! you did give it me :

And God forgive me, I did love ye all

Too which now I dearly answer for.

well,
Anne Drury, what say you 1 was not the plate
1 Lord.
Part of it yours, and the rest mistress Sanders',
According as your man hath here confessed, 149
With which he borrowed twenty pound for Browne ?
Bru. l\[y lord, it was.
2 Lord. And you and she together
Were privy of the letter which was sent
Was it so, or no ? Why do you not speak ?

Dru. It was, my
and mistress Sanders knew
lord ;

That Eoger came the morning ere he went.

And had a token from her to George Browne,
A handkercher, which after was sent back
Imbrued in Sanders' blood.
L. Just. Who
brought that handkercher?
Jjru. That did my man.
1 Lord. To whom did you deliver it, sirrah ? Ibo
80 A WARNING FOR FAIR WOMEN. [IV. 4.

Bog. To mistress Sanders, at her house, my lord.

Anne. Oh, God ! My lords, he openly belies me,

I kept my childbed-chamber at that time,
"Where 't was not meet that he, or any man,
Should have access.

L. Just. Go to ! Clog not your soul

With new additions of more heinous sin.
'Tis thought beside conspiring of his death,
You wronged your husband with unchaste behaviour.
For which the justice of the righteous God
Meaning to strike you, yet reserves a place 170
Of gracious mercy, if you can repent
And, therefore, bring your wickedness to light,
That suffering for it in this world, you might.
Upon your hearty sorrow, be set free,
And'fear no further judgment in the next
But if you spurn at His afB.iction,

And bear His chastisement with grudging minds,

Your precious souls, as well as here your bodies,
Are left in hazard of eternal death.
Be sorry, therefore, 'tis no petty sin, 180
But murder most unnatural of all,

"Wherewith your hands are tainted, and in which

Before and after the accursed fact,
You stand as accessory. To be brief.
You shall be carried back unto the place
From whence you came, and so from thence, at last,
Unto the place of execution, where
You be hanged till you be dead
shall all three :

And Lord have mercy on your souls

so the 189 !

Anne. Ah, good, my lords be good unto Anne Sanders

IV. 5.] A WAllNING FOR FAlli WOMEN. 81

Or else you cast away an innocent !

'2 Lord. It should not seem so by the rose you wear

His colour now is of another hue.
Anne. So you will have it but my soul is still
;

As free from murder as it was at first.

—
L. Just. I think no less. Jailor, away with them.
Anne.Well, well, Anne Drury, I may curse the time
That e'er T saw thee thou brought'st me to this
; !

Bog. I will not curse, but God forgive ye both.

For had I never known nor you, nor her, 200
I had not come unto this shameful death. [Exeunt.

SCENE v.— Smithfield. The place of execution.

Enter Master Browne, to execution, vith the Sheriff and

Officiirs.

Bro. Why do you stay me in the way of death ?

The people's eyes have fed them with my sight;

The little babies in the[ir] mother's arms
Have wept for those poor babies, seeing me,
That I, by my murder, have left fatherless,

And when I came along.

shrieked and started
And sadly sighed, as when their nurses use
To fright them with some monster when they cry.
Sher. You have a brother, Browne, that for a murder,
Is lately here committed unto Newgate, 10
And hath obtained he may speak with you.
Bro. Have I a brother that hath done the like ?
Is there another Browne hath killed a Sanders ?
It is my other self hath done the deed :

I am a thousand, every murderer is my own self

f
82 A WAltMNG FOE FAIR WOMEN. [IV. 5.

I am at one time in a thousand places,

And I have slain a tlidusand Sanderses !

In every shire, each city, and eaoh town,

George Sanders t.till is murdered by George Browne.

Broirne's Irotlir ic hrovglit forth.

Broth. Brother
£ro. Dost thou mean me ? 2P
Is there a man will call me brother ?

Broth. Yes, I will call thee so, and may do it.

That have a hand as deep in blood as thou.

Bro. Brother, I know thee well. Of whence was thine ?

Broth. Of York he was.

Bro. Sanders of London, mine.
Then see I well, England's two greatest towns,
Both filled with murders done by both the Brownes !

Broth. Then may I rightly challenge thee a brother:

Thou slew'st one in the one, I one in th' other.
Bro. When didst thou thine ?

Broth. A month or five weeks past. 30

Bro. Hardly to say, then, which was done the last.
Where slialt thousuffer ?

Broth. Where I did the fact.

Bro. And I here, brother, where I laid my act.

Then I see well, that be it near or further,

That heaven will take due revenge on murther.
Broth. Brother, farewell, I see we both must die
At London, you, this week, next, at York, I.
Bro. Two luckliss brothers sent both at one hour,
The one from Nbh gate, th' other from the Tower.
[Exit Brother.
IV. 0.] A WAI.M^'G FOR FAIR WOMEN. 83

Sher. Browne, yet at last to satisfy the world, 40

And for a true Hiid etrtaiu tefctimoriy
Of thy repeutaiioe for this deed committed,
Inow, at the hour of death, as thou dost hope
To have thy sins forgiven at God's hands,
Freely confess (what yet unto this hour
Against thy conscience, Browne, thou hast concealed,)
Anne Sanders' knowledge of lier husband's death.
Bro. Have I not made a covenant with her.
That, for the love I ever bare to her,
I wiU not sell her life by my confession ? 50
And shall I now confess it ? I am a villain :

I will never do it ! Shall it be said Browne proved

A recreant ? And yet I have a soul
Well, God the rest reveal :

I will confess uiy sins, but this conceal. [Aside.

Upon my death, she's guiltless of the fact.
Well, much ado I had to bring it out
My conscience scarce would let me utter it

I'm glad 'tis past. [Aside.

Sher. But, Browne, it is confessed by Drury's wife 60
That she is guilty ; which doth fullj' prove
Thou hast no true contrition, but conceal'st
Her wickedness, — the bawd unto her sin.

Let her confess what she thinks good

Bro.
Trouble me no more, good master Sheriff.
Sher. Browne, thy soul knows.
Bro. Yea, yea, pray you, be quiet, sir.
it does ;

Yile world, how

monster come I soiled from thee
like a !

How have I wallowed in thy loathsome filth, 70

Drunk and besmeared with all thy beastial sin
84 A TVAKMKG FOB FAIR WOMEN. [IV. 5.

I never spake of God, unless when I

Have blasphemed his name witli monstrous oaths

I never read the Scriptures in my life,

But did esteem them worse than vanity

I never came in church where God was taught,
Nor ever, to the comfcjrt of my soul.
Toot benefit of sacrament or baptism.
The Sabbeth days I spent in common stewS,
Unthrifty gaming, and vile perjuries. 80
I held no man once worthy to be spoke of.

That went not in some strange disguised attire,

Or had not fetched some vile, monstrous fashion
To bring in odious, detestable pride.
I hated any man that did not do
Some damnfed, or some hated, filthy deed.
That had been death for virtuous men to hear.
Of all the worst that live, I was the worst
Of all the cursed, I the most accursed.
All careless men, be warnM by my end, 90
And by my fall, your wicked lives amend. [He leaps off.

Enter a Messenger.

Mes. It is the Council's pleasure, master Sheriflf,

The body be conveyed to Shooter's Hill,
And there hung up in chains.
Sher. It shall be done. [Exeunt.
IV. 6.] A WARNING FOB FAIR WOMEN. 85

SCENE YI.— Greenwich. A Room m Master James'

House.

Enter Master James, with the Minister.

James. Why, then, you are persuaded, certainly,

That mistress Sanders is mere innocent ?
Min. That am I, sir, even in my very soul.
Compare but all the likelihoods thereof :

Eirst, her most firm denial of the fact

N6xt, mistress Drury's flat confession,

That only she and Roger did contrive

The death of master Sanders ; then yourself
Cannot but be of mine opinion.
James. Then all you labour for 10
Is, that I should procure her pardon '?

Min. To save an innocent

Is the most Christian work that man can do ;

Beside, if you perform it, sir, sound recompense

ShaU quit your pains so well employed herein.
James. Now let me tell ye that I am ashamed
A man of your profession should appear
So far from grace and touch of conscience,
As, making no respect of his own soul,
He should with such audaciousness presume 20
To and abuse the seat
baffle justice,
With your fond, overweening, and sly fetch.
Think you the world discerneth not your drift ?
Do not I know, that if you could prevail,
By this far-fetched insinuation,
And mistress Sanders' pardon thus obtained,
?G A n All MI^'G FOR FAIR WOMEN. [IV. 6.

That your intent is then to marry her?

And thus you htive abused her poor soul,
In trusting to su weak and vain a hope.
Well, sir, sinoe you have so forgot yourself, 30
And, shameless, blush not at so bold offence.
Upon their day of execution,
And at the selfsame place, upon a pillory,
There shall you stand, that all the world may see,

A just dessert for »^uoh impiety.

Min. Good sir, hear uie !

James. I will not hear thee ; come, and get thee hence.
For such a fault too mean a recompense. [Exeunt.

SCENE VII.— lioudon. Outsidt Newgate.

Enter two Carpenters, Tom Peart and Will Crow, meeting.

Will. Tom Peart, my old companion ? Well met

Tom. Good morrow. Will Crow, good morrow how ;

dust ? I hiive not seen thee a great while.

Will. Well, I thank God ; how dost thou ? Where
hast thou been this morning, so early ?

Tom. Faith, I have been

up ever since three o'clock.
Will.About what, man ?
Tom. Why, to make work for the hangman; land
another have been setting up a gallows.
Will. Oh, for mistress Druryj must she die to-day ? 10

Tom. Nay, 1 know not that but when she does, I am

;

sure there is a gallows big enough to hold them both.

Will. Both whom, her man and her ?
Tom. Her man and her, and mistress Sanders too; 'tis
—
a swinger, i' faith. But cume, I'll give thee a pot this
IV. 7.] A WARNING FOR FAIR WOMEN. 87

morning, for I promise thee I am passing dry, after my

%\ork.
Will. Conteut, Tom, and I have another for thee ; and
afterward I'll go see the execution.
Tom. Do as thou wilt for that. 20
Will. But dost thou think it will be to-day ?
Tom. I cannot tell ; Smithfield is f uU of people, and
the Sheriff's man, that set us a-work, told us it would be
to-day. But come, shall we have this beer ?
Will. With a good will ; lead the way. [Exeunt.

SCENE VIII.—London. A Cell in Newgate.

Enter Anne Sanders, and her Keeper following her.

Keep. Called you, mistress Sanders ?

Anne. Keeper, I did :

I prythee fetch up mistress Drury to me,

I have a great desire to talk with her.
Keep. She shall be brought unto you presently. [Exit.
Anne. Oh, God ! as I was standing at a grate
That looks into the street, I heard men talk.

The execution should be done to-day ;

And what a pair of gaUows were set up,

Both strong and big enough to hold us aU
Which words have struck such terror to my soul, 10
As I cannot be quiet till I know
Whether Nan Drury be resolved still
To clear me of the murder as she promised :

And here she comes.

Enter Anne Drury and the Keeper.
I prythee gentle keeper,
88 A WAMNING FOR FAIR WOMEN. [IV. 8.

Give us a little leave we may confer

Of things that nearly do concern our souls.
Keep. With all my heart ; take time and scope enough.
[Exit.

Dm. Now, mistress Sanders, what's j'our will with me?

Anne. Oh, mistress Drury, now the hour is come
To put your love unto the touch, to try 20
If it be current, or but counterfeit.
This day it is appoiuted we must die
How say you, then, are you still purposed
Tu take the murder upon j'ourself,
Or will you now recant your former words ?
])ru. Anne Sanders, Anne, 'tis time to turn the leaf,
And leave disse[iibling, being so near my death :

The like I would advise yourself to do.

We have been both notorious vile transgressors,
And this is not the way to get remission, 30
By joining sin to sin nor doth't agree
;

With godly Christians, but with reprobates,

And such as have no taste of any grace
And, therefore, for my part, I'll clear my conscience,
And make the truth apparent to the world.
Anne. Will ycm prove, then, inconstant to your friend
?
Bru. Should I, to purchase safety for another
Or lengthen out another's temporal life,
Hazard mine own soul everlastingly,
And lose the endless joys of heaven, 40
Prepared for such as will confess their sins ?
No, mistress Sanders ;
yet there's a time of grace
And yet we may obtain forgiveness,
If we will seek it at our Saviour's hands.
IV. 8.] A WAVSiyQ FOR FAIR WOMEN.

But if we wilfully sliut up our hearts

Against the holy spirit tliat knocks for entrance,
It is not this woi-ld's punishment shall serve,
Nor death of body but our souls shall live
;

In endless torments of unquenched fire.

Anne. Your words amaze me; and although I'll vow 50
I never had intention to confess
My heinous sin, that so I might escape
—
The world's reproach; yet God, I give him thanks !
—
Even at this instant I am strangely changed,
And will no longer drive repentance ofi,

Nor cloak my guiltiness before the world.

And in good time see where the doctor comes.
By whom I have been seriously instructed.

Enlcr II Doctor.

Doc. G(jod morrow, mistress Sanders, and soul's health

Unto you both —

prepare yourselves for death
:
;
60
The hour is now at hand, and, mistress Sanders,
At length acknowledge and confess your fault.
That God may be propitioner to your soul.
Anne. Right reverend sir, not to delude the world,
Nor longer to abuse your patience.
Here I confess I am a grievous sinner,
And have provoked the heavy wrath of God,
Not only by consenting to the death

Of my late husband, but by wicked lust

And wilful sin, denying of the fault 70
But now I do repent, and hate myself.
Thinking the punishment prepared for me
Not half severe enough for my deserts.
90 A WAliMKG FOl! FAIR WOMEN. [IV. 8.

Doc. Done like a Christian, and the child of grace,

Pleasing to God, to angels, and to men;
And doubt not but your soul shall find a place
In Abraham's bosom, though your body perish.
And, mistress Drurj-, shrink not from your faith,
But valiantly prepare to drink this oup
Of sour affliction 'twill raise up to you
;
80
A crown of glory in another world.
Dm. Good master doctor, I am bound to you ;

My was ignorant, blind, and almost choked

soul
With this world's vanities but by your counsel,
;

I am as well resolved to go to death

As if I were invited to a banquet
Nay, such assurance have I in the blood
Of Him that died for me, as neither fire.
Sword, nor torment, could retain me from Him.
Doc. Spoke champion of the holy cross
like a ! 90
Now, mistress Sanders, let me tell to you :

Your children, hearing this day was the last

They should behold their mother on the earth.
Are come to have your blessing ere you die.
And take their sorrowful farewell of you.
Anne. A sorrowful farewell 'twill be, indeed,
To them, poor wretches, whom I have deprived
Of both the natural succours of their youth •

But call them in and, gentle keeper, bring me

;

Those books that lie within my chamber window. 100

Oh, master doctor, were my breast transparent,
That what is figured there might be perceived,
Now should you see the very image of poor
And tottered ruins, and a slain conscience.
IV. S.] A JVARNING FOR FAIR WOMEN. 91

Here, here they come ! Be blind, mine eyes, with tears

And soul and body now in sunder part

Her Children ar-i brought in.

All. Oh, mother, mother !

Anne. Oh, my dear children !

I am unworthy of the name of mother.

All. Turn not j'our face from us, but ere you die.
Give us your blessing.
Anne. Kneel not unto me 110
'Tis I that have deserved to kneel to you.
My trespass hath bereft you of a father,
A loving father, a kind, careful father ;

And by that selfsame action, —that foul deed

Your mother, likewise, is to go from you ;

licaving you, poor souls, by her offence,

A corsie and a scandal to the world.
But could my husband, and your father, hear me,
Thus humbly at his feet would I fall down,
And plentiful in tears bewail my fault. 120
Mercy I ask of God, of him, and you,
And of his kindred which I have abused,
And of my friends and kindred wheresoever,
Of whom I am ashamfed and abashed ;

And of all men and women in the world,

Whom by my foul example I have grieved
Though I deserve no pity at their hands,
Yet I beseech them all to pardon me
And God I thank, that hath found out my sin
And brought me to affliction in this world, 130
Thereby to save me in the world to come.
92 A WAHhUNG FOR FAIR WOMEN. [1^. ?•

Oh, children, learn, learn by your mother's faU,

To follow virtue, and beware of sin.
Whose baits are sweet and pleasing to the eye,
But, being tainted, naore infect than poison,
And are far bitterer than gall itself
And lived in days where you have wealth at will,
As once I had, and are well matched beside.
Content j'^ourselves, and surfeit not on pride.

Enter Sheriff bringing in Trusty Boger, with halberts.

Sher. What, master doctor, have j'ou made an end ?

The morning is far spent, 'tis time to go. 141
Doc. Even when you will, master Sheriff, we are ready.
Anne. Behold, my children, I will not bequeath
Or gold or silver to you, you are left
Sufficiently provided in that point
But here I give to each of you a book
Of holy meditations, Bradford's works,
That virtuous chosen servant of the Lord.
Therein you shall be richer than with gold
;

Safer than in fair buildings; happier 150

Than all the pleasures of this world can make you.
Sleep not without themwhen you go to bed
And a-moruings with them in your hands.
rise
So God send down His blessings on you all.
EareweU, farewell, farewell, farewell— farewell
[She hisses them one after another.
Nay, stay not to disturb me with your tears ;
The time is come, sweethearts, and we must part
That way go you, this way my heavy heart. [Exeunt.
 A WARNING FOli FAIR WOMEN. 93

EPILOGUE.
Enter Tragedy to conclude.

Trag. Here are the lances that have sluiced forth sin,

And ripped the venomed ulcer of foul lust,

Which being by due vengeance qualified.
Here Tragedy of force must needs conclude.
Perhaps it may seem strange unto you all,
That one hath nut revenged another's death.
After the observation of such course :

The reason is, that now of truth I sing,

And should I add, or else diminish aught,
Many of these spectators then could say, 10
I have committed error in my play.
Bear with this true and home-born tragedy.
Yielding so slender argument and scope
To build a matter of importance on,
And in such form as, haply you expected.
What now hath failed, to-morrow you shall see
Performed by History or Comedy. [Exit.
 NOTES.

INDUCTION.
An Induction to a play may generally be regarded as a Sign of
early date of writing, much later than 1590, although
viz., not
plays with Inductions occasionally appeared after that year but ;

they were the exception rather than the rule. By the com-
mencement of the seventeenth century they had become anti-
quated and out of date, as may be seen from the following pas-
sage in the Prologue to Beaumont and Fletcher's The Woman
Hater, printed in 1007, but probably written a year or two
before :
—
" Gentlemen, Inductions aYe out of date, and a prologue
in verse is and a bay garland."
as stale as a black velvet cloak,
The black velvet cloak an allusion to the apparel of the person
is

who appeared in such a garment, to Speak the prologue.

10. More cartwheels ereakint/ yet. Cf. I Hen IV. Hi. 1, —
'
I had rather hear a brazen canstick turned.

Or a dry wheel grate on the axle-tree.'

13. Gup, mistress buskin, i.e. gee up or, hallo mistress, !
—
vulgar way of expressing surprise at presumptions boldness,
borrowed from the language of the stables. Cf. Histriomastix,

iv. 1, 66,
—Gup, mistress, Madam
' also Lyly's Midas, iv. 2,
!'

'
Marry, gup !'

14. Melpomene. Cf. Soliman ^ Perseda, i. 1, 5-6,

For here the mouth of sad Melpomene
'

Is wholly bent to tragedy's discourse.'

15. Whose mare is dead? z.e. What's the matter? So, in 2
Hen. IV. ii. 1, 35,
— ' How now Whose ! mare's dead?'
96 A WAltMKG FOR FAIR WOMEN. '

19. Avoid the stafje. i.e. leave the i>tage. So, in Soliman Sf
Perseda, i. 1, 4,
— ' I command j-ou to forbear this place.'
Also Mucedoriis, Induction, 49,
'
Forbear this place ; I humbly crave thee hence !'

23. What wonder 's towai'dsi What wonder is in preparation,

at hand. So in Sir Clyomon Sf Sir Clamydes, p. 494, Dyce,
'
If any shows or triumphs be towards.'
39. Make the heart heave. Old copy, heavie.
41. Rack, stretch, exaggerate. So, in Much Ado, iv. 1, 221,
Why, then we rack the value.'
'

42. Until I rap the senses from their course, i.e. Until I snatch
or ravish the senses from their course. Cf. Ram Alley, \y.jm, —
'The damned crew
With glaives and clubs have rapt her from these arms.'
44. How some damned tyrant to obtain a crown. Mr. Simpson,
School of Shakespeare, II. 216, thought this passage contained an
allusion to Richard III, Henry V, Hamlet, and Macbeth. A
Warning was written some years before either of those plays
Hamlet is a possible exception and the reference, satirical in —
point, is contemporary plays see Introduction.
to ;

47. And tells us of the worrying of a cat. Cf. Mid. Sum. i\'.

Dream, i. 2, 27,
'
I could play Ercles rarely, or a part to tear a cat in '

Also Histriomastix, v. 241-2,

* Sirrah, is this you would rend and tear the cat
Upon a stage ?'

Vindicta Revenge
—'Three ghosts within, cryand
51. ! .'
Cf. Locrine, Battle
iii. 6, of
Alcazar, ii. ind. 9, s. d. Vindicta !'

Again, 1. 19,
—
Revenge, cries Abdelmunen's grieved ghost.'
'

53. Tobacco was first brought to England in

Tobacco pipe.
1583, so that year would be the earliest possible date of writing
of the play.
60. Cf. 1 Contention between York and Lancaster, ii. 2,
'
A whisp of straw were worth a thousand crowns,
To make that shameless callet know herself.'
68, Painted in play-bills on every post. An allusion to the
 NOTES. 97

custom of setting up play-bills on posts to admonish people to

resort to the theatres. Collier, Bist. Dram. Poet. lir. 288, cites
from Taylor the Water Wit and Mirth, the foUqwing
poet's
'
quiblet'.
—
Master Field, the player, riding up Fleet Street a
'

great pace, a gentleman called him, and asked him what play
was played that day ? He (being angry to be stayed upon so
frivolous a demand) answered, that he might see what play was
to be played upon every post. I cry you mercy (said the gentle-
man) I took you for a post, you rode so fast.' Again, in H. Fitz-
geoffrey's Certaine Elegies, 1620,
Pontus comes posting almost every day.
'

And
cries, Ilow do you, sir ? Come, what 's the play ?
Who doubts but much his labour he hath lost
I ne'er could tell no more than could the post.'

75. 2'he stage is hung with black. In our early theatres the
stage was draped with black when a tragedy was to be per-
formed. This custom is alluded to in Marston's Insatiate Coun-
tess, 1613, p. 176, ed. Halliwell :—
'
The stage of heaven is hung with solemn black,
A time best fitting to act tragedies.'

Again, in 1 Henry VI i. 1,

'
Hung be the heavens with black.'
Also in Lucrece, st. 770, —
Black stage for tragedies, and murders fell.'
'

82. domineer. To carry matters with a high hand, to bluster,

to live riotously. So, in Soliman ^ Ferseda, ii. 1, 290,
Or domineer with the money when I have sold it.'
'

Also Arden of Feversham, ii. 2,

'And domineered with it amongst good fellows,'
89. This Round. In my 1893 reprint of A Warning, I was
disposed to think that this Hound' and the fair circuit' of 1. 84
' '

was an allusion to the Globe theatre. But from passages in

plays acted at other theatres, it seems to have had a general
application to playhouses thus, in Marston's 2 Antonio and
;

Mellida, 1602, acted by the Paul's boys c. 1600, probably in their

own singing school, we meet with the following passage in the
prologue, 1. 13,
—
If any spirit breathes within this round.'
'

y
98 A WAS.FIKG FOR FAIR WOMEN.
Again in 1. 1 of the epilogue of Wily Beguiled, 1606,
' Gentles, all compassed in this circled round'
Also, ibid. 1. 6,
' In all this round some cynic censurers.'

ACT I., SCENE 1.

4. Whereas, i.e. where.

15. The English pale. An expression well known in Irish
history, applied to that portion which for some of Ireland to
centuries after its invasion by the English, under Henry II. in
1172, the dominion of the latter was confined. The limits of the
pale seldom extended beyond the modern province of Leinster,
and were frequently much less considerable. Cf. Edward If, —
The wild O'Neil, with swarms of Irish kerns.
'

Lives uncontrolled within the English pale.'

See Nares' Glossary.
41. to make retire. Here retire is used in the sense of return ;

the construction uncommon.

is

53. frolic. Merry, joyful. The expression was a favourite one

with Eyd ; he used it frequently in his plays, and it also occurs

in plays ascribed to him, viz. The Taming of A Shrew, and the

old King Leir.
85. pretty, i.e. my skill in surgery, though I say it, is jfrelty
good.
90. Aqua ccelestis. Literally, water of heaven the aqua ccelestis
;

of the text was probably the fancifulname given to some quack

medicine advertised by its vendors as an infallible panacea, like
That fellow's '
pills.

That cure all ills.'

The aqua ccelestis, or agua sapphirina of chemistry is a blue
solution formed by precipitating copper from its sulphate, or
copperas, by the addition of liquid ammonia, and which precipi-
tation is dissolved almost as soon as formed.
91. Rosa Sun dew. A nostrum of the same kidney as
solis.

aqua ccelestis, and no doubt as effective. It was a strong spiritous

liquor, containing also cinnamon water and eggs, and was quite
 NOTES. 99

different to the rosa soils of cliemistry. I find the term men-

tioned in Heywood's 2 Edward IV, iii. 6,

'
Give him some rosa solis, mistress Blague,
And that will likewise animate the spirits,
And send alacrity unto the heart.'
Cf. also The Two Angry Women of Abington, v. 1.
91. Doctor Steevens. have not been able to discover whether
I

thiswas a real or flctitioua personageif real, and if the time in

;

which he flourished could be ascertained, it would materially

assist in settling the date of this play.
101. peat. Pet, darling ; usually applied to a young woman.
So in Lodge's JRosalynd, p. 142, Hazlitt,
'And God send every pretty ^eaf.
Heigh ho, the pretty peat
That fears to die of this conceit
So kind a friend to help at last.'
119. inward. Intimate, familiar. So in Span. Trag. iY.i,195, —
'
Methinks since 1 grew inward with revenge.'
127. cureless, i.e. without cure. So, in The Wounds of Civil
War, p. 195, Hazlitt,—
'
A cureless cross of many hundred harms.'
141. bewray, betray, reveal. So, in Span. Trag. iii. 2, 52,
'
To listen more, but nothing to beivray.'

148. subtle, practised, skilful. Cf. 3 Henry VI, iii. 1,

'
Warwick is a subtle orator.'
151. supple, i.e. soften. — Her sweet tongue has power to
soften a stone.
158. Heart-blood. Cf. King Leir, i. 6,

'
And each drop of my heart-blood,
whilst I live
Will I strain forth to do her any good.'
166. break, i.e. disclose, broach. So in Span. Trag. iv. 1, 116,
Then 'gan he break his passion to a friend.'
'

173. break the ice. This expression occurs again in i. 3.

178. Some
other fine adventure, i.e. enterprise, to try the
chance, to dare. So in the Spanish Tragedy, iii. 3, 6
It is no dream that I adventure
' for.'

Also Arden of Feversham, v. 1, 145,

100 A WARNING FOR FAIR WOMEN.
'
And make me the first that shall adventure on him.'
187. quit, requite. So in Soliman 4" Perseda, ii. 1. 94,
' That thus shoiildst quit my love with such a scorn'

ACT I. SCENE 2.

119-22. Cf. Romeo Sf Juliet, i. 5,—

'seems she hangs upon the cheek of night,
It
Like a rich jewel in an Ethiop's ear.'
26. scornful nay. Scornful way, in my previous edition. Cf.
Wounds of Civil War, p. ISO, Hazlitt,
Whose simple thoughts are crossed With scornful nays.'
'

27. Cf. Soliman ^ Perseda, ii. 1, 97,

Desire persuades me on, fear pulls me back

'
'

43. Like herb John in broth, i.e. As well out as in.

49. Prejudice your pleasure. Cf Lodge's Rosalynd, p. 36, .

Which Torismond perceiving, fearing lest her perfection

'

might be the beginning of his prejudice' etc.

66. Errand-makiny (/allants, gad-abouts.
70. A scene somewhat similar to this between Browne and
Anne Sanders, is to be found in How a Man may Choose a Good
Wife from a Bad, i. 3, 1602, q. v.
84. Use, i.e. continue it not, not make a practice of it Cf.
Soliman ^ Perseda, ii. 1, 221, —
Nay, I use not to go.' The same
'

word occurs, with a slightly different meaning, in Warning, A

i. 4, 10. See Ardcn of Feversham, iii. 3.

ACT I. SCENE 3.

15. close dealing, secret dealing. Cf. Span. Trag. iii. 13, 26,—
' Closely and safely, fitting things to time.'
20. conceited, ingenious, fanciful. So in Winter's Tale, iv. 3,—
' An admirable conceited fellow.'
21. drawlatch, a thief. So in Jacob tind Esau, ii. 3,—
' What sayst thou, drawlatch ? come forth with a mischief !

Wilt thou not go with us ? On, forward, whoreson thief.'

23. policy, i.e. system of management. So in The Spanish
Tragedy, iii. 4, 33,—' Why, so, this fits our tovmn policy.
 NOTES. lOi

Also King Leir, i. 1,

—
Yet if my policy may her beguile.'
'

28. a proper man, handsome, well behaved. Cf, Kyd's pam-

phlet The Murder of John Bretven, 1. 23, proper young —A '

woman ; also King Leir, iii. 6,

'
My friend, thou seems to be a proper man.'
ib. store of coin, i.e. stock, abundance. So in the Koxburghe
ballad, The Brave English Gipsy, —
'
Great store of coin we gain,
Yet for it take no pain.'
Also The Wounds of Civil War, p. 139,—
'
This city wants no store of fathers.'
33. Stoop unto the lure. A term in falconry. Cf The Spanish .

Tragedy, ii. 1, 4,
In time all haggard hawks will stoop
'
to lure.'
See Taming of A Shrezv, iii. 1.

54. wot, know.

55. void, i.e. leave. So in the Eoxburghe ballad The Gentle-
man in Thracia, —
'
She did entreat that all might void
The room, and he would stay.
Your pardon, husband, I beseech.
Unto him she did say.'

70. choice argument, choice subject. Cf. Soliman Sf Perseda,

ii. -Z, 25,
— ' Perfect argument.'
74. So in Richard III, iii. 7,
consorted, agreed.
For this consorted with the citizens.'
'

76. jealous, suspicious. So in Jeronimo, ii. 3, 121,

My mother's Jea/oMS of my love to her.'
'

Used in the same sense in Arden of Feversham.

79. coy. '
Coy it.' Spanish Tragedy, ii. 3, 3.
85. mistrust, suspect. So in Spanish Tragedy, iii. 4, 3,
'
What mischief is it that we not mistrust ?

Also Arden of Feversham, i. 3,

I mistrust thee '
not.'

King Leir, iii. 4,

'
And no man once mistrust thee for this fact.'

89. challenge, claim. So in Soliman § Ferseda, ii. 3, 9,

102 A WARNING FOR FAIR WOMEN.
'
To see and challenge what Lucina lost.'

101. absolute, liiglily accomplished, perfect, complete. So, in

Hamlet, v. 2,
— ' An absolute gentleman.' Also Lyly's Endymion,
iii. 4,
— ' And is not Cynthia of all circles the rru)st absolute?' 'A
pair of absolute men.' Two'Noble Kinsmen, ii. 1, 27. Pericles,
iv. 1 (Gower), and Rosalynd, p. 68.
105. hear, bear, in my previous edition.
107. You shall not need. Cf. Spanish Tragedy, iii. 11, 18,
Nay, soft and fair you shall not need to strive.'
'
;

The author seems to have been fond of this expression; it occurs

with slight variation, in ii. "i bis, and in iv. 2.
115. You need not study so, i.e. muse or think so. So, in The
Tempest, ii. 1, —
You make me study of that.'
'

117. All is but George, I pray you let\^t] be done. This linel^
is hopelessly corrupt in my former edition I hazarded the fol-
—
;

lowing emendation George Browne is all but cast away

: '

therefore, to save him, I pray you to perform his behests.' This,

however, is not altogether satisfactory.
120. Your orator. Should be oratrix. Kyd uses the word in
Soliman 8f Perseda, i. 3, 69, I fight not with my tongue
—
this '
;

is my oratrix.
132. He's sped, i.e. his fate is decided. So, in The Taming of
A Shrew, v. 1,
'
'Tis Kate and I are wed, and you are sped.'
133. Cf. The True Tragedy of Richard Duke of York, ii. 5,—
' 111 blows the wind that profits nobody.'

ACT I. SCENE 4.

10. Use. Here use is employed in the sense of custmn. So, in

Jeronimo, i. 3, 60,
—
She must weep awhile as widows use.'
'

Again, in 'the Taming of Shrew, i. 1, A

It is the use where 1 was born.'
'

Also Soliman S; Perseda, ii. 1, 221,

'
I use not to go without a pair of false dice.'
12. Whenas, when.
14. quittance, discharge. I have not found this word in Kyd,
 NO TBS. 103

but cf. Jeronimo, iii. 2, 73,

'
And give you acquittance with a wound or two.'
24. another tiitte shall serve. Another favourite expression of
of the author's; it is repeated, with a slight variation, in ii. 1,
and ii. 2.

31. yoM, omitted in my previous edition.

34. but, omitted.
43. This unladylike expression will remind readers of a simi-
lar threat to use the ten commandments,' occurring in Locrine,
'

3 Henry VI, and The Taming of A Shrew.

45. break, i.e. broach or open Browne's secret to her. So, in
Sir Clyiimfin and Sir Vlamydes, p. 511,
'
If I should seem to break my mind.'
75. conceit, ie. think. In the Spanish Tragedy, i. 4, the word
is used as a substantive, — ' Then with conceit enlarge yourself
again.' See, also, A Shrew, iv. 1.

80. accustomed. The sense is I have never accustomed

L>(?rf, —
myftlf to go on credit. So, in Winter's Tale, iv. 3, A
Your greatness hath not been used to fear.'
'

97. vild, vile. .4 favourite word with Kyd. It occurs in the

Spani.'ih Tragedy, ii. 5, 27, and iv. 5, 4.

101. chafed, worried, angered. So, in 3 Henry VI, ii. 5,

'
Warwick rages like a chafed bull.'
109. to quit that eoil, i.e. requite or redress. Cf. the Spanish

Tragedy, iii. 1, 79, —

To make a quital for thy discontent.' The
'

word occurs in i. 1, 187, and again in iv. 2, 119, in the sense of

even or equal; see notes to those passages.
113. line of life. A term in palmistry. The line of life is the
furrow in the skin of the hand passing from the root of the
thumb to the centre of the palm, and its length was supposed to
denote the duration of its owner's life. Fairholt. Cf. Mother
—
Bombie, ii. 3, 'The line of life is good, Venus' mount very per-
fect; you shall have a scholar to your first husband.' Venus'
mount is the fleshybase of the thumb.
170. ivis, know.
181. leave. So the old copy ; Mr. Simpson reads have, but
query, love.
1U4 A WARNING FOR FAIR WOMEN.
192. to change, or neic affection. The old copy reads, — ' to
clinnge offnevr affection,' which is nonsense.
199. will hammer so within her head, i.e. this will so labour
within her head. So in 'I'he Wounds of Civil War, p. 149,
Hope and revenge sit hammering in my heart.'
'

Also Titus Andronicus, ii. 3, 39,

Blood and revenge are hammering in my head.'
'

and Mother Bomhie, ii. 1.

200. in the neck of this, i.e. to succeed or follow immediate]}'
afterwards. So in 1 Henry IV, iv. 3,
Soon after that deprived him of his life.
'

And in the neck of that, tasked the whole state.'

Malone quotes the following passage from Painter's Palace of
Pleasure, 1566, —
Great mischiefes succeedyng one in another's
'

necke.'
202. stratagem, contrivance, trick, artifice.
'
I have already found a stratagem.' Span. Trag. ii. 1, 35.
'
Inspire me with some present stratagem! Sol. ^ Per. ii. 1, 181.

ACT II. D. S.

2. entrance, i.e. commencement. So, in Marlowe's Massacre

at Paris, i. 6,
'
Shall in the entrance of this massacre
Be murdered in his bed.'
Also in Heywood's Four Prentices of London, cited by Dyce,
Take them to guard this entrance to our wars
'
;

Is full of spirit, and begets much hope.'

The word is used again in 1. 8.
7. sable curtains. Here is another allusion to the stage being
draped with black when a tragedy was to be performed. See
note to 1. 75, Induction.
11. damned deed. Cf. Span. Trag. iii. 4, 37,
'
For die he shall for this his damnJd deed.'
12-14. Cf. Peele's David and Bethsabe, p. 482, Dyce, —
' Niglit-ravens and owls shall ring his fatal knell.'
Also Wounds of Civil War, p. 149,
 KOTJES. 105

' The screech-owl chants her fatal-boding song.'

21. mazors, drinking bowls. 'A mazoroi wine.' Iiosalynd,p.35.
30. lawless lust. See Wounds of Civil War, 192,
'
That have so loosely leaned to lawless lust.'
39. drifts, aims, intentions. So, in Jeronimo, ii. 4, 18,
'
But is that villain, Lazarotto, acquainted with our drifts f
50. guiltless blood. '
Guiltless blood,' Arden of Feversham, v.
3. Harmless blood,' Spanish Tragedy,
'
ii 5, 20. Also The True
Tragedy of Richard III, iv. 4,
'
Whose guiltless blood craves daily at God's hands.,
60. device, i.e. scheme. K.yd uses the word in the same sense
in Soliman 8f Perseda, v. 4, 131,
'
For that my death was wrought by her device.'
Also in the Spanish Tragedy, i. 2, 191.
66. Mce, use, practice. 8o, \a Ihe Jeio of Malta, ii. Z, —
'
And always kept the sexton's arms in ure.'

ACT II. SCENE 1.

11. respective, respectful, anxious, careful. So, in Jeronimo,

i. 2, 35,
— ' Respective dear, O, my life's happiness !'

Also Sir John Oldcastle, iv. 3, —With thy kind respective tears.'
18. wait, i.e. attend. So, in All's Well, v. 3,^
'
Wait on me home.'
Old copy, and; Mr. Simpson's correction.
ib. on.
20. it. Old copy, if. Cf. Span, Trag. iii. 2, 61,—' It shall not
need.' This expression occurs in I. 22, and in iv. 2, 4.
36. sluice out his life. Cf. ^schylus' Agamemnon, p. 173,
Potter, ed. 1833, '
But now by murd'rous hands
Hast thou sluiced out this rich and noble blood.'
Also Richard II, i. 1,
— ' Sluiced out his soul.'
37-8. Cf. Macbeth, iii, 2,
— ' Come, sealing night,
Scarf up the tender eye of pitiful day.' Collier.
I cannot resist quoting the following picturesque passage from
the Doumfall of Robert Earl of Huntingdon, p. 191, Hazlitt,
Muffle the eye of day, '

Ye gloomy clouds, and, darker than my deeds,

106 A WARNING FOR FAIR WOMEN.
That darker be than pitchy sable night,
Muster together on the high-topped trees,' etc.
41. Then be my coverture, thick ugly night. Cf. 3 Henry VI,
iv. 2,
— ' Night's coveture.'
51-3. A similar obstacle to the murder of Arden occurs in
Arden of Feversham, iv. 2,
Will. The devil break
'
all j'our necks at four miles' end !

Zounds, I could kill myself for very anger !

His lordship chops me in.

E'en when my dag was levelled at his breast.'

67-8. Cf. Arden of Feversham, iv. 2
• Arden, thou hast wondrous holy
luck.
Did never man escape as thou hast done.'
69-70. Cf. Arden of Feversham, ii. 3,
'
Thou but a member to whet the knife
Whose edge must search the closet of his breast.'
75. Cf. Hamlet, i. 1,—
'
Well may it sort that this portentious figure
Comes armed through our watch.'
83. See note to i. 4, 24.

ACT II. SCENE 2.

16. The priory and hospital of 'our

sermons at the Spital.
blessed Lady St. Mary Spital, was situated on the east side of
Bishopsgate St., with fields in the rear, which now form the dis-
trict called Spitalflelds. Sermons were preached there on Easter
Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday they were usually attended ;

by the scholars of Christ's Hospital, the lord mayor and lady

mayoress, and the city functionaries. See Hone's Every Day
Booh, p. 222-3.
23. Maundy Thursday. The Thursday in Passion week, when
royal bounty is distributed to the poor at Whitehall. The men-
tion of butchers keeping open shop, probably alludes to the
distribution of meat which took place on that day.
36. catches. Properly, hatches ; small two-masted vessels
used as yachts or bomb vessels. Hoy is a large onedecked boat,
 NOTES. 107

commonly rigged as a sloop. For a use of the word see Arden

of Feversham, v. 5, and Comedy of Errors, iv. 3.
39. doth harbour many a false knave. Cf. Arden of Feversham,
V. 2,
— 'many false knaves abroad.'
There are
46. What make you, etc. Make means to do, — What do you
wandering here ? See the Merry Devil of Edmonton, iv. 1, 98,
For God his passion what make you here alone ?'
'
!

What make you abroad now ?' Fam. Vie. Jlenry V, i. 2.

'

In Arden of Feversham, ii. 3, make is apparently used in the

sense of cause, have not found the word in Kyd's plays.
I

58. umberst, umber coloured, dark, shady.

I cannot quote for

the word, but Shakespeare has 'umbered face,' in Hen. V, iv. ch.
65. Troubled xoith green meadows. Eegarded by some as an
omen of death. T^ie allusion is to the superstition associated
with the ravings of people when in the delirium of fever, when
the}' are supposed to talk oi green meadoivs. According to Mrs.
Quickly, Falstaff, when dying, ' babbled of green fields' See the
notes of the commentators on Henry V, ii. 3. Cf. Jack Drum's
Entertainment, iii. 1, 92,
— ' Rejoice, Brabant, thy brother will
not live long, he talks idly already.
69. dreams are but fancies. Cf. King Leir, iii. 6,
'
'
Dreams are but fantacies
84. close, i.e. enclosure.
88. Pray ye bestow a groat or sixpence of carnation ribbon. —
Here a bit of feminine nature neatly touched in as Mr. J. A.
is ;

Symonds says, these bye scenes are the salt of the play,
103. Swaggerer, a roaring, blustering fellow. Sioaggering is

used in much about the same sense in iii. 1. Cf. 2 Henry IV,
i. 4,
—
There comes no sivaggers here.
'

ACT II. SCENE 3.

5. let it pass, i.e. let it go. So, in Soliman ^- Perseda, iii. 1,

36,
— ' But let him pass.' Again, in Arden of Feversham, iii. 2,

'
But let that pass.'
8. Cf Arden of Feversham, iii. 2,
.

It should be slipt till I had fought with thee,

'
108 A WARNING FOR FAIR WOMEN.
To let thee know I am no coward.'
40. Burse, i.e. the Exchange.
52. i.e. followed, wandered.
traced, Cf. Cornelia, iii. 1, 129,
That wont to haunt and trace bycloistered tombs.'
'

77. where is't best to take our standing ? Cf. Span. Trag. iii. 3,
Here, therefore, will 1 stay and take my stand.'
'

Also Arden of Feverskam, ii. 3,

Stand close, and take your fittest standing.'
'

79. close, secret. So in the Spanish Tragedy, iii. 3, 26-7

How fit a place if one were so disposed
'
—
Methinks this corner is too close witli me.'
89. motion, action, proposal. So, in Span. Trag. iii. 6, 85,
Ay, marry, sir, this is a good motion.^
'

Again, ihid. ii. 4, 22,

' I'll make the motion to my sovereign liege.'
Also King Leir, i. 1,
— ' Cornwell and Cambria motion love.
100-1. Cf. Shakespeare's xxvii. Sonnet, —
Like a jewel hung in ghastly night
'

Makes black night beauteous.'

Sheen and bright reads rather tautological. Sheen is used in
King Leir, i. 3,
—
Your beauty is so sheen.
'

136-7. See note to i. 1, 67-8.

142. Cf. Twelfth Night, v. 1,—
' The old saying is, the third pays for all.

148. pass, i.e. forget.

ACT III. D. S.

3. loose, a technical term in archery ; the act of discharging

an arrow from the string. Cf. Lyly's Sapho and Phao, iv. 4,—
' And cry softly to thyself in the very loose.'
Also Looe's Labours Lost, v. 2,
' And often at his very loose decides.
See Dyce's Glossary, where this passage from A Warning is
quoted.
13-15. Cf. Greene's Orlando Furioso, p. 108, Dyce,
'
Now hold the fatal murderers of men
 NOTES. 109

The sharpened knife ready to cut my thread.'

Also the Wounds of Cioil War, 187,
'
The labouring sisters on the weary loom,
Have drawn my weary life at length, I know.'
16. lohenas, when.
41. remorse, pity, sorrow. So, in Spanish Tragedy, i 4, 27,

'Incensed with just remorse.'

Also Soliman S( Perseda, ii. 1, 163,
'
If words, nor tears, nor looks may win remorse.'
Again, Wounds of Civil War, p. 139,
'
Wound my heart with terror and remorse.'
4.J. Cf. Span. Trarj. iii. 4, 34,
'
For this his damned deed.'
Again, ibid. iii. 7, 43,
'
And actors in th'accursed tragedy.'

ACT III. SCENE 1.

3. kiss. Old copy, Imt.

23. lest. Old copy, least.
32. studious, musing, thoughtful. So, in Calisto ^ Melihcea,
p. 88, Hazlitt.—
Why speak ye not
' ? Why be ye now so studious ?'

Again, in 1 Henry VI, ii. 5,

'
But yet be wary in thy studious care.'

36. /o?- w^y, because. So, in ^c^joarii /, p. 412, Dyce,

'
For why my story nearly touoheth him.'
Again, Spanish Tragedy, iv. 1, 50,

For why the plot

'
's already in mine head.'
47. I am lieavy at the heart. Cf. Arden of Feversham, iv. 2,
'
A heavy blood is gathered at my heart.'

A similar incident occurs in Arden, iv. 2, where Arden is over-

powered by a presentiment of coming danger, just the same as
John Beane is in A Warning. The passages should be compared.
57. tremble every joint. Cf. Arden of Feversham, iii 3,
With this I woke and trembled every joint.'
'

69. imetes rfeart, i.e. untimely death. Cf. Jctototoo, i. 2, 34,

 110 A WARNING FOR FAIR WOMEN.
'
Walk on s-tilts to timeless funeral.'
Also tlie Spanish Trayedy, iv. 4, -124,
— ' Untimely slain.'

Again, in King Leir, iv. 'i,

'
And brings my father timeless to his end.'
/ 70. I dip my
handkercker in his blood. This will call to mind
the scene in The Spanish Trayedy where llieronimo dips bis ,

napkin in the blood of the murdered Horatio. Cf. also, the JVae
Tragedy of Richard Duke of York, 1. 4.

81. Cf. the Spanish Tragedy, iii. 4, 34,

'
And die he shall for this his damned deed.'
87-8. Cf. Julius Ccesar, iii. 1,

'
Over thy wounds.
Which like dumb mouths do ope their ruby lips.'
I 95. The bloody handkercker plays as importont a part in this
play, as does the bloody napkin in the Spanish Tragedy. It is
mentioned again in iii. 3.
103. martyred me. Cf Span. Trag. iii. 9, 6, .

Why bend'st thou thus thy mind to martyr me

'
f
114. Sure as death the harlotries are bespoken. If this line
have a meaning it is unknown to me. I take it to be an expres-
sion coined in the brain of Old John, who seemed to be remark-
ably fertile in the production of quaint phrases. Swearing by
his father's saddle (1. 112) deserves the palm for originality.
117. dismal day, i.e. evil day.
118. aminicke, almanack.
119. brended, properly brinded ; brindled, marked with spots
or streaks.
128. my eyes dazzle. Cf. Duchess of Malfl, iv. 2,
'
Cover her face ; mine eyes dazzle"
Also Soliman ^ Perseda, ii. 1, 244,
' Dazzle mine eyes, or is't Lucina's chain ?'

Again, in the True Tragedy of Richard Duke of York, ii. 1, 11,

Dazzle mine eyes, or do I see three suns?'
'

132. siveb, swoon, faint. Swound has the same meaning, Cf.
Jeronimo, ii. 4, 118,—' Oh, I swound, I die !'

135. Oods forbod, i.e. God forbid. So, in the ballad Adam Bell,
 NOTES. Ill

'
But Cloudesly cleft the apple in two,
That many a man might see ;

Over Gods forbade,' said the king,

'

That thou should shoot at me'.'

'

149. woe worth him, woe betide him, bad luck to him. So, in
Kyd's tract. The Murder of John Brewen, And woe worth thee — '

(quoth she) that ever 1 knew thee.'

154. swaggering, blustering. Cf. 2 Hen. IV, ii. 4,

Swaggering rascal.'
'

155. desperate Dick. Of this phrase I know not the origin.

'

It probably had its rise from some well known individual, and
perhaps the alliteration chiefly contributed to its being pre-
served.' Malone.
'
Perhaps originally from the desperate conduct of K. Rich.
III. Mention of this hero is made in an ancient ballad called
Wat William's Will, the second part :

" Would drunkards leave such drinking,

And gallants leave their roaring.

Would desperate Dicks forbear to stab,
And lechers leave their whoring." Stebvbns. '

Cf. The London Prodigal, i. 2,

He 's a desperate Dick.'
'

156. Cabbaleers, Old John's rustic way of pronouncing cava-

liers ; farther on he says canniballes for cannibals.

ACT III. SCENE 2.

S. Enter one with a Jack. Jack was a vessel used in the

D.
buttery, intowhich wine or beer was drawn. So, in Mucedorus,
ii. 2,
—
Get me a good piece of beef and brewis and then to the
' ;

buttery hatch to Thomas the butler, for a Jack of beer.'

36. proper, well-behaved, handsome So, in King Zeir, iv. 1,
'
You are a very proper man.'
112 A B'ARNING FOR FAIR WOMEN.

ACT III. SCENES.

.5. outrageous, ie, violent. Cf. Sol. Sf Per. ii. 1, 276,
'
His outraijeous insolence.'
Again, in Fdward III, iv. 3, 65,
'
What success is like

To happen to us in this outrageous war?'

13, beioray, betray, reveal. Cf. Spanish Tragedy, i. 3, 45; iii.

2, 52 ; iii. 13, 76.

13-18. Cf . Arden of Feversham, ii. 1, 39-44.
18. complot, plot, conspiracy. So, inSpan. Trag. iii. 2, 100
'
Now to confirm the complot thou hast cast.'
19. heinous sin. Cf. King Leir, iii. 6,

'
Full of heinous sin.'

ib, Our heinous sin cries in the ears of him. Cf. The Murder

of John Rrezven,
— 'Blood is an incessant crier in the ears of the
Lord.'
25. 'ticing eyes. '
'Tya\r\g speech', Arden of Feversham, i. 2.

27. give me leave, i.e. let nie go.

32. misdone, undone, ill-done. So, in Spanish Tragedy, iv. 5, G,

'
Fair Isabella by herself misdone.'
Again, in Soliman Sf Perseda, ii. 1, 304,
'
Ah, loving cousin, how art thou misdone."
37. untimely stopped my hitsband^s breath. Cf. Spanish
Tragedy, iv. 4, 224,
'
Our hapless son, untimely slain.'
41. passion, sorrow, emotion. So, in 1 Tamburlaine, v. 2,
'That ill X.by passion for thy country's love.'

ACT III. SCENE 4.

3. cross and pile, pitch and toss a game still practised by

;

the vulgar, who play it by tossing up a coin. See A Cure for a

Cuckold, iv. 3,
' Fortune plays ever with our good or ill,
Like cross and pile, and turns up which she will.'
15. out of patience, disturbed, agitated.
 NOTES. 113

40. you'l be jerked, i.e. beaten. A similar peculiarity in ex-

pression occurs in Arden of Feversham, ii. 3,
'Tliis sauciness in you will make you be knocked.'
43. point, a tagged lace wliicli fastened the breeches to the
doublet.
55. basilisk. The old dramatists were very fond of dragging
this fabulous monster into their plays there is scarcely one of
;

them but has some reference to it. Kyd uses cockatrice in Sol.
^ Per. ii. 1, which has the same meaning.
66. devote, i.e. devoted. So, in Taming of the Shreiv, i. 1,

'
Devote to Aristotle's ethics.'
71. pretence, intention. So, in Spanish Tragedy, iii. 4, 83,
'
With utterence of out pretence therein.'
72. contaminate, defiled. This use of a verb transitive in the
place of a past participle, is characteristic of Kyd.
80. policy. Policy here means skilful or crafty management.
Of. The Spanish Trayedy iii. 10, 9,
'
This tliat 1 did was for a. policy.'

See note to i. 3, 23.

81-4. Cf. Heywood's 2 Edward IV, iii. 5,

'
The very senseless stones here in the walls.
Break out in tears but to behold the fact ;

Methinks the bodies lying dead in graves,

Should rise and cry against us.'

ACT III. SCENE 5.

9. we shall not need. A favourite expression of the author's.

See ii. 1, and iv. 2.

34. confer, i.e. compare.

44. decipher, disiinguish. So, in Kyd's translation of The
Householder's Philosophy,— deciphered without beards'; or bet-
'

ter still, The Merry t^'ives of Windsor, v. 2, 9,

'The white will decipher her well enough.'
45. Cf. Spanish Tragedy, iii. 6, 35,

For blood with blood shall ... be satisfied.'

'

Also 'I he Murder of John Bremen, 'The Lord therefore ordained

—
114 A WARNING FOR FAIR WOMEN.
a law that the cruel and unjust bloodshedder should have his
blood justly shed again.'

ACT III. SCENE 6.

why, omitted in my previous reprint.

1.

worth. Mr. Gibbs queries, sterling; but here, I think,

31.
worth means substance, loealth. As an instance, compare Arden
of Feversham, i. 1,

'
I'll make her more worth than twenty painters can.'
37. Poverty parts company. A proverbial expression. Ray
slightly varies it :
—
Poverty partetli friends, or fellowship.
'

45.an hasty cUmbinf/. Old copy, an<Z hasty climbing'; Mr. '

Gibbs emendation. The sense of the couplet is generally ob-

scure. Perhaps JBrowne meant to say The heat of my love :
— '

bred this hasty climbing to my desire, and caused me to commit

this deed.' The hasty climbing,' Mr. Gibbs takes to mean
'
a — '

'
forced climbing of the gallows
46. tall men, able, bold, stout. Cf. Sir John Oldcastle, i. 1,

•
And keeps a hundred tall fellows.'

ACT IV. D. S.

9. immunity, cruelty, ferocity. So, in 1 Henry VI, v. 1,

That such immanity and bloody strife,

'

Should reign among professors of one faith.'

The only instance I can quote for the use of the word.
13. For this use of rest and unrest, see Span. Tray. i. 3, 5,
Then rest we here awhile in our unrest.'
'

Again, ibid. iii. 13, li9,

'Therefore will I rest me in unrest.'

Ibid. iv. 5, 30,
— ' Let me
doom them to unrest.'
be judge, and
Also iii. 10, 23, Under feigned jest, '

Are things concealed that else would breed unrest'

24, besprent, besprinkled. So, in the old ballad. The Com-
plaint of Conscience, st. i. 1. 5,
' With bloody tears his face was besprent.'
35. measure for measure, and lost blood for blood. Here again
 NOTES. 115

the author is harping upcii tl;e EiWical dictum, life for life, and
blood for hlood, which he repeats and enforces throughout the
play. This is all very cliaracteristic of Kyd's method, and is
one of the arguments in favour of consanguinity of authorship.
See Spanish Tragedy, iii. 6, 35.

ACT IV. SCENE 1.

-. all, i.e. without any company at all.

any,
'29. extremity, the utmost of calamity. So, in Soliman and
Persfda, iii. 4, 6,

'
If you re.«i.st, e.xpect what war affords,
JlLschief, murder, blood, and extremity!
37. Meann u'iU have justice shown. C'f. Span. Tray. ii. 5, 58,
'
The heavens are just, murder cannot be hid.'
Also Soliman and Perseda, ii. 1.

ACT IV. SCENE 2.

4, ;/ .s/ioU nut. need. One of the author's stock phrases; see

11. 1, -U-i', and iv. i, 4.

l."!. ^. D. laying his hand, SfC. Omitted in my first reprint.

•31. perfit, perfect. So in ICing Leir, i. 1,

'
.\ perfit patten of a virtuous life.'

;:i3. painful, i.e. painstaking. So in 1 Edward IV, i. 3,

'
A discreet, painful gentleman.'
8(1. See how his wounds break out afresh in bleeding. The
superstition that the murdered body bleeds on the touch or ap-
proach of the murderer, was at one time a general and fashion-
able belief from the peasant to the prince. King James I. in his
Bemonoloyy says,—' In a secret murther, if the dead carkasse be
at any time thereiifter handled by the murtherer, it will gush
out'of blood, as it the blood were crying to heaven for revenge
of the murtherer.' The author of the Living Librarie, 1621,
asks,
—
Who can allege any certaine and firme reason why the
'

blood runes out of the wounds of a man murdered, long after

the murder committed, if the murderer be brought before the
dead bodie.' Reginald Scot in his Discovery of Witchcraft says,
116 A WAHMKG FOE FAIR WOMEN.
— I have heard by credible report, that the wound of a man
'

murthered remains bleeding at the presence of a dear friend or

of a mortal enemy. Divers also write that if one pass by a mur-
thered body (though unknown) he shall be stricken with fear,
and feel in himself some alteration of nature.' Sir Kenhelm
Digby, that 'prodigy of learning, credulity, valour, and romance,'
so iirmly believed in this miraculous phenomenon, that he has
endeavoured to explain the reason. Cf. Arden of Feversham, v. 4,
Alice.
' Arden, sweet husband, what shall I say ?
The more I sound his name, the more he bleeds ;

This blood condemns me, and in gushing forth,

Speaks as it fulls, and asks me why I did it.
83. I gave him fifteen wounds. Ci. Julius Ccesai; in. 2, —
Show you sweet Csesar's wounds, poor, poor dumb mouths,
'

And bid them speak for me

Put a tongue
In every wound of Csesar, that should move
The stones of Rome to rise and mutiny.' Collibb.
109. 'The murder yet at length did come to light. A story
similar to this one told by the mayor of Rochester is related,
more circumstantially by Heywood in his Apology for Actors,
—
1612: 'Another of the like Wonder happened at Amsterdam in
Holland. A company of English Comedians (well khown) tra-
velling those countries, as they were before the bnrgers and
other the chief inhabitants acting the last part of The Four Sons
of Aymon, towards the last part of the history, where penitent
Rinaldo, like a common labourer, lived in disguise, vowing, as
his last penance, to labour and carry burdens to the structure of
a goodly church, then to be erected whose diligence the la-
;

bourers envying, since, by reason of his stature and strength, he

did usually perfect more work in a day than a dozen of the best
— he working for his conscience, they for their lucres where- —
upon, by reason his industry had so much disparaged their
living, conspired among themselves to kill him, waiting some
opportLinitj' to find him asleep,which they might easily do,
since the sorest labourers are the soundest sleepers, and industry
is the best preparative to rest. Having spy'd their opportunity.
 ^'OTES. 117

they drave a nail into his temples, of which wound immediately

he died. As the actors handled this, the audience might on a
sodaine understand an outcry and loud shrike in a remote gal-
lery ; place, they might perceive a woman
and pressing about the
ot great gravity strangely amazed, who with a distracted and
troubled brain oft sighed out these words, Oh my husband, — '

my husband !' The pluy, without further interruption, pro-

ceeded the woman was to her own house conducted, without
;

any apparent suspicion everyone conjecturing as their fancies

;

led them. In this agony she some few days languished. And
on a time, as certain of her well-dispo.<ed neighbours came to
comfort her, one amongst the rest being church-warden to him ;

the sexton posts, to tell him of a strange thing happening to him

in the ripping up a grave. 'See here,' quoth he, what 1 have '

found' and shows them a fair

: skull, with a great nail pierced
quite through the brain-pan. '
But we cannot conjecture to
whom it should belong, nor how long it hath lain in the earth,
the grave being confused, and the flesh consumed.' At the report
of this accident the woman out of the trouble of her afflicted
conscience discovered a former murder for twelve years ago, ;

by driving that nail into that skull, being the head of her hus-
band, she had treacherously slain him. This being publicly con-
fessed, she was arraigned, condemned adjudged, and burned.'
116. whereas, i.e. where.
119. I'll tell you, sir, one more to quite your tale, i.e. I'll tell

you one more tale to be even with you. Cf. Lyly's Sapho and
Phao, li, 4,—
So I will and quite thy tale of Phoebus with
'Phao. ;

one whose brightness darkeneth Phoebus.'

130. Confessed her husband^s murder. Heywood relates an-
other story identical with this of Master James' in his Apology
for Actors. He tells it as a domestic and home-born truth,
'

which within these few years happened. At Lynn in Norfolk,

the then Karl of Sussex' players acting the old History of Friar
Francis, and presenting a woman, who insatiately doting on a
young gentleman, the more securely to enjoy his affection, mis-
118 A WAFiNING FdFi FAIR WOMEN.

cliievously and secretly nuirdered her husband, whose ghost

haunted her and at divers timet, in her most solitary and pri-
;

vate contemplations, in most horrid and fearful shapes appeared

and stood before her. As this was acted, a towns-woman, till
then of good estimation and report, finding her conscience at
this presentment extremely troubled, suddenly skritched and cried
out, 'Oh my husband, my husband I see theghostof my husband
!

fiercely threatening and menacing me At which shrill and

!'

unexpected outcry the people about her, moved to a strange

amazement enquired the reason of her clamour, when presently,
unurged, she told them that, seven years ago, she, to be possessed
of such a gentleman, meaning him, had poisoned her husband,
whose fearful image jsresented itself in 'the shape of that ghost.
Whereupon the murdresse was apprehended, before the justices
further examined, and by her voluntary confession after con-
demned. That this is true, as well by the report of the actors
as the records of the town, there are many eye-witnesses of this
accident yet living vocally to confirm it.'

Mr. Simpson gives a similar story from the 1589 Hamlet —

—
suppose the German version as follows —
There was a pretty
'

casus in Germany near Strasburg. A wife had murdered her

husband by piercing him through the heart with a shoemaker's
awl and then with the help of her paramour, buried him under
;

the doorstep. So matters stood for as long as nine years ; when

certain actors came that way, and acted a tragedy containing a
similar incident. The wife, who was sitting with her paramour
at the play, was so touched in her conscience, and began to cry
aloud and to shriek,
—Woe is me that touches me
' ! So it was !

that I killed my husband !' She tore her hair, ran out of the
theatre to the judge, confessed of her own accord the murder,
and as this was found to be true, she, in deep repentance for her
crime, received the consolations of a priest, and in true con-
trition gave up her body to the executioner, and commended
her soul to heaven.'
132. You, master Mayor. Master omitted in my previous
reprint.
 NOTES. 119

ACT IV. SCENE 3.

S. Enter Master James. The stage directions in the old

D.
copy read, Enter M. Mayor, M. James, etc., but the Mayor
does not enter till later on.
'26. loill, i.e. command.
S. D. M. Humphrey. This name rather puzzled me when
printing my A
Warning; he does not speak or
1893 edition of
act in this scene, neither does he appear in any other part of the
play, and I conjectured he was merely some functionary in at-
tendance on the Mayor. Now I am inclined to believe it was
intended for M[aster] Humphrey [Jeffs] an actor who belonged
to the Earl of Pembroke's players from 1589 to 1597. If this
surmise be correct, it is quite probable that he took the part of
one of the Messengers in this scene. In the Folio version of
—
3 Henry VI, iii. 1, a play first acted by Pembroke's men at the
Curtain — he is introduced as Humphrey, and performed the part
of a keeper. This conjecturfj, if sound, will necessitate the with-
drawal of the hypothesis advanced in my previous introduction,
p. xvii 10 this play, viz., that A Warning was acted by the
Queen's men at the Theatre in 1588. I am now inclined to think
that it was first presented by Pembroke's men at the Curtain
late in 1589 or early in 1590, but certainly not later.
38. ancient quarrel, i.e. old quarrel. So in Richard II, ii. 1

' The nobles hath he fined for ancient quarrels'

65. bear me still in hand, still keep me in expectation. So in
Ram Alley, p. 303, ed. Uazlitt,—
'
Yet will I bear some dozen more in hand.'
Again, 2 Henry IV, i. 2,

'
To bear a gentleman in hand.'
67. apple-squire. A cant term for a pimp. So in Every Man
in his Humour, iv. 10,
'
And you, young apple-squire and old cuckold maker.'
85. That gentltman, i.e. Master James.
liO A I] AllNIh'G FOR FAIR WOMEN.

ACT IV. SCENE 4.

In my previous reprint I commenced Act v. here, but it is, I

think, clear that the author intended the play should be in four
acts only, each act being preceded by a chorus and dumb show.
I have therefore adopted that division which will be more in
accordance with my ascription of the play to ' the famished
follower of Seneca.' Kyd wrote his Spanish Tragedy in four
acts, and in doing so he followed the Elizabethan versions of
Seneca's Thebais and Octavia.
S. D. I have here deviated from the muddled directions of

the old copy, which read hnter some to prepare the judgment
seat to the Lord Mayor, Lo. Justice, and the foure Lords, and
one Clearke, and a Sheriff, who being set, commaund Browne to be
brought _forth. Line 11 shows that the Lords, etc., do not enter
till later on.
11. S. D. Old copy Enter all as before.
'2'i. pretended malice, malice aforethought. So in Sir John
Oldcastle, ii. 3,

Not of pretensed malice, but by chance.

'

103. spinsters.Apparently it should be widows.

126. Our Lady's eoe. The 24 of March the eve of the An- ;

nunciation of the Virgin Mary.

150. which he. Old copy she; a misprint. The plate was
given to Roger, and he borrowed the money on it.
166. heinous sin. The author appears to have been fond of
this expression it occurs in iii. 4, and iv. 8. Heinous cruelty is
;

in iv. 3, and heinous murder in iv. 4.

181. But murder mo^t unnatural of all. Cf. Hamlet, i. 5,
'
Murder most foul, as in the best it is ;

But this most foul, strange and unnatural.'

189. Have mercy on your souls. The author has not adhered
very closely to the facts of the case in making Mrs. Sanders' trial
immediately follow Browne's. According to the accounts of the
crime, Browne was tried on the 18th of April, and executed on
the 20th Mrs. Sanders and Drury were tried on the 6th of May,
;
 NOTES. 121

and executed on the 13th perhaps the requirements of stage

;

representation induced him to depart from a strict observance

of the historical succession of events.

ACT IV. SCENE 5.

2. The peoples' eyes have fed them ivith my sight. Cf. 1 Hen.
IV, iii. 2,
—' That being daily swallowed by men's eyes.'
7. as when their nurses use, i.e. practice. Cf Jeronima, . i. 3, 66,
'
As widows use till their first sleep.'
28. challenge, claim.
35. due revenge on murder. The author is here harping upon
his favourite maxim that murder will out ; see notes ante.
83. fetched, seized.
S. He leaps off'. Here is the rare circumstance of an exe-
D.
cution actually taking place before an audience Kyd has the ;

same thing in The Spanish Tragedy, iii. 6. Other instances

may be found in Sir Thomas More, iii. 1 ; 2 Edicard IV, v. "J,

and Two Tragedies in One, v. fin.

ACT IV. SCENE 6.

2. mere innocent. Mere, adj. means entire, absolute ; here it

is used adverbially in the sense of entirely, absolutelj', and is

frequently so employed by the Tudor dramatists.

21. abuse the seat, j'.e. the judgment seat.
22. fond, foolish.
ib. overweening, conceited, vain.
ib. fetch, contrivance, trick, stratagem. So in the Spanish
Tragedy, iii. 4, 46,—
'
And no man knows it was my reaching/eicA."
23. drift, aim, intention Cf. Spanish Tragedy, vv.l,Zl, —
Why, then 1 see heaven applies our drift.'
'

27. to marry her. This minister was a Mr. Mell who attended
Anne Sanders in Newgate after her condemnation. According
to A Brief Discourse of the late Murther of master George San-
ders, etc., 1573, the motive that actuated him in endeavouring to
obtain her release, was purely a self-interested one. He strenu-
 A WAHNIKG FOR FAIli WOMEN.

ously maintained her iniincfiice in face of the evidence on which

she was convicted, and even offered turns of money to other
persons to assist in procuring her pardon had he succeeded in ;

his efforts, he intended ,to have married her. His endeavours

were motive being discovered, he was adjudged
fruitless, and his
to stand in the pillory. The sentence was carried out on the day
and at the place of execution of Mrs. Sanders and Drury a large ;

placard was pinned on his breast with these words written upon
it ; — ' For practising to colour the detestable factes of George
Sanders wife.'

ACT IV. SCENES.

10. struck such terror to my soul The fact of Anne Sanders
overhearing the conversation of the two carpenters outside
Newgate, is mentioned in Brief Discourse, and A is said to have
hastened her confession of the crime.
21. current or but counterfeit. Cf. Richard III, iv. 2,
'
Ah, Buckingham, now do I play the touch,
To ry if thou be current gold indeed.' Collibb.
I

Also Timon of Athens, iii. 3,— '

My lord,
They have been touched, and found base metal.'
all

26. turn the leaf. Cf. Arden of Feversham, iii. 1,

'No question then but she would turn the leaf.'
S. D. Fnter a Doctor. D. D. not M. D. Perhaps the prison
chaplain.
77. In Abraham's bosom. Cf. Richard III, iv. 3,
'
The sons of Edward sleep in Abrahartis bosom.'
117. coresie. Sometimes written corsive, meaning corrosive,
annoyance, sorrow. So in Span. Trag. i. 2, 143,
A blot unto' hisname, a corsive to his heart.'
Again, in Selimus, 1. 535,
Selim such a corsive to his heart?'
' Is
The word also occurs in Lodge's Rosalynd, The Troublesome
Reign of King John, pt. I. v. 1, Chapman's Monsieur D' Olive, and
A Brief Discourse.
135. infect, infectious. Cf. Spanish Tragedy, iv. 2, 20,
 Noirs. li'".

'
And passengers for fear to be infect,
Shall stand aloof.'
Shakespeare use& the woid in Troilus Sf Cressida, i. 3.

137. lived. So in old copy. Mr. Gibbs suggests foWn^, which

improves the sense but destroys tlie metre ; I have nothing
better to offer.
147. Bradford's tiviks. I'ostibly his Godly Meditations and
Prayers.

EPILOGUE.
4. offeree, i.e. necessarily. So in Span. Trag. iii. 9, 12,
'
VlaW, force perforce I must constrain myself.'
Also King Leir, iii. 1,

'
1 must diirsemble kindness now of force.'
Frequent, in this sense, in Shakespeare.
12. Bear with this home-born tragedy. A similar apology is

made at the conclusion of Arden of Feversham, —

'
Gentlemen, we hope you'll pardon this naked tragedy,
Wherein no filM points are foisted in
To make it gracious to the ear or eye ;

For simple tj-utli is gracious enough,

And needs no other points of glosing stuff.'
 APPENDIX.

STOWS ACCOUNT OF THE MUBDEB.

" The 25 of March, being Wednesday week, and the

in Easter
feast of the Annunciation of our Lady, George Browne cruelly
murdered two honest men near unto Shooters Hill in Kent, the
one of them was a wealthy merchant of London named George
Sanders, the other John Beane of Woolwich which murder was
;

committed in manner as followeth.

"On Tuesday in Easter week, the four and twentieth of March,
the said George Browne receiving secret intelligence by letter
from Mistress Anne Drury that Master Sanders should lodge the
6ame night at the house of one Master Barnes in Woolwich, and
from thence go on foot to St. Mary Cray the next morning, lay
in wait for him by the way, a little from Shooters Hill, and
there slew both him and John Beane, servant to Master Barnes
but John Beane having 10 or 11 wounds, and being left for dead,
by Gods providence revived again, and creeping away on all
four, was found by an old man and his maiden, and conveyed to
Woolwich, where lie gave evident marks of the murderer.
"Immediately upon the deed doing Browne sent Mistress
Drury word thereof by Eoger Clement (among them called
Trusty Roger) he himself repaired forthwith to the Court at
Greenwich, and anon after him came thither the report of the
murder also. Then departed he thence unto London, and came
to the house of Mistress Drury, wliere though he spake not per-
sonally with her, after conference had with her servant Trusty
Koger, she provided him twenty pounds that same day, for
 APPENDIX. 125

which she laid certain plate of her own and of Mistress Sanders
to gage. On the next mori-ow, being Thursday (having intelli-
gence that Browne was sought for) they sent him six pounds
more by the same Koger, warning him to shift for himself by
flight, which thing he foreslowed not to do nevertheless the
;

Lords of the Queens majesty's council caused so speedy and

narrow search to be made for him, that upon the eight and
twentieth of the same month he was apprehended in a mans
house of his own name at Eochester, and being brought back
again to the Court was examined by the Council, to whom he
confessed the deed as you have heard, and that he had often-
times before pretended and sought to do the same by tlie insti-
gation of the said Mistress Drury, who had promised to make a
marriage between him and Mistress Sanders (whom he seemed
to love excessively) nevertheless he protested (though untruly)
that Mistress Sanders was not privy nor consenting thereunto.
Upon his confession he was arraigned at the Kings Bench in
Westminster Hall the 18 of April, where he acknowledged him-
self guilty,and was condemned as principal of the murder, ac-
cording to which sentence he had judgment, and was executed
in Smithfield on Monday the 20 of April, at which time also
untruly (as she herself confessed afterward) he laboured by all
means to clear Mistress Sanders of committing evil of her body
with him, as also of procuring or consenting to the murder of
her husband, and then beginning to sing a psalm, Lord turn
not away thy face &c., he flung himself beside the ladder, and so
shortened his own life he was after hanged up in chains near
;

unto the place Where he had done the fact.

" In the mean time Mistress Drury and her man being exam-

ined, as well by their own confessions as by falling out of the

matter (and also by Brownes appeachment thought culpable)

were committed to ward. And after Mistress Sanders being de-
livered of Child and churched (for at the time of her husband's
death she looked presently to lie down) was upon Mistress

Drurys mans confession and other great likelihoods likewise

committed to the Tower, and on Wednesday the sixt of May
126 A WARNING FOR FAIR WOMEN.
arraigned with Mistress Drury at the Guildhall, the effect of
whose indictment was, that they by a letter written had been
procurers of the said murder, and knowing the murder done had
by money and otherwise relieved the murderer. Whereunto
they pleaded not guilty, howbeit they were both condemned as
accessaries to Master Sanders death and executed in Smithfield
the 13 of May, being Wednesday in Whitsun week, at which
time they both oonfessed themselves guilty of the fact.
" Trustie Koger, Mistress Drurys man, was arraigned on Fri-

day the 8 of May, and being there condemned as accessary, was

executed with his Mistress at the time and place aforesaid. Not
long after, Anthony Browne, brother to the forenamed George
Browne, was for notable felonies conveyed from Newgate to
York, and there hanged."
 APPENDIX. 127

THE INDUCTION

TO KYD'S

SOLIMAN AND PEBSEDA.

Enter LovB, Fortune, Death.

Love. What, Death and Fortune cross the way of Love ?

Fortune. Why, what is Love but Fortune's tennis-ball ?
Death. Nay, what are you both, but subjects unto Death ?

And I command you to forbear this place ;

For bare the mouth of sad Melpomene

Is wholly bent to Tragedy's discourse :

And what are tragedies but acts of death ?

Here means the wrathful muse, in seas of tears

And loud laments, to tell a dismal tale
A wherein she lately hath bestowed
tale,

The husky humour of her bloody quill.

And now for tables takes her to her tongue.
Love. Why, thinks Death Love knows not the history
Of brave Frastus and his Rhodian dame ?
'T was I that made their hearts consent to love ;

And therefore come I now as fittest person

To serve for chorus to this tragedy :

Had I not been, they had not died so soon.

Death. Had I not been, they had not died so soon.
Fortune. Nay then, it seems, you both do miss the mark.
Did not I change long love to sudden hate ;
128 A WARNING FOM FAIR WOMEN.
And then rechange their hatred into love ;

And then from love deliver them to death ?

Fortune is Chorus Love and Death.'hegone
; !

Death. I tell thee, Fortune, and thee, wanton Love,

I will not down to everlasting night,

Till I have moralised this tragedy.

Whose chiefest actor was my sable dart.
Love. Nor will I up into the brightsome sphere
From whence I sprung, till in the chorus' place
I make it known to you and to the world,
What interest Love hath in tragedies.
Fortune. Nay then, though Fortune have delight in change,
I'll staymy flight, and cease to turn my wheel.
Till I have shown by demonstration.
What have in a tragedy
int'rest I
Tush ! Fortune can do more than Love or Death.
Love. Why stay we, then ? Let 's give the actors leave
And, as occasion serves, make our return. [Exeunt.
 • AW INDEX
TO WORDS ILLUSTRATING THE PHRASEOLOGY
OP

A WABNING FOB FAIB WOMEN.

Abraham's bosom, iv. 8. Blood for blood, lost iv. d.s.

Abuse your patience, iv. 8. Blood be paid with blood, let,
Accidents, strange iii. d.s. iii. 5.

Adulterous rout, iii. d.s. Bloody bandkercher, iii. 1.

Adventure, fine i. 1. Bloody tongue, iv. 2.
Affliction of the soul, iv. d s. Break (broach), i. 1.
Affright ourselves with vi- Break the ice, i. 3.
sions, iii. 1. Bright diamond, i. 2, 4.
Agony of soul, iii. 1. Broach his bosom, ii. 1.
All (any,) iv. 1. Broke the ice, i. 3.
Amorous, for being iii. 3. Burse (Exchange), i. 4, ii. 3.
Angel with a fiery sword, iii. Buskins, mistress, ind.
Anger me, ind.
Apollo's name, ind. Cabbaleers, iii. 1.
Apple-squire, iv. 3. Canniballes, iii. 1.
Aqua ccelestis, i. 1. Cartwheels creaking, ind.
Artillery, Love's false i. 2. Catches (ketches), ii. 2.
Cat, worrying of a, ind.
Baffle justice, iv. 6 Cat's-guts, ind.
Banish us the stage, ind. Chafed, i. 4.
Baptism, iv. 5. Challenge, i. 3, iv. 5.
Base broker, ii. d.s. Charming-rod, ii. d.s.
Basilisk, look on the iii. 4. Chastity appears, iii. d.s.
Bawd unto her sin, iv. 5. Choice argument, i. 3.
Bear me still in hand, iv. 3. Cimmerian darkness, iii. 4.

Beastial sin, iv. 6. Circumspect, iii. 3.

Besprent with tears, iv. d.s. Cloak it so cunningly, iii. 4.
Betrothed love, my iii. 3. Cloak for the rain, i. 3.
Bewray, i. 1. Close, ii. 2.

Black murder, ii. d s. Close dealing, i. 3.

Black winter's night, i. 1. Complot, iii. 3.

Blasphemed his name, iv. 5. Conceit, i. 4.

Blood of innocents, iii. 1. Conceited, i. 3.
130 A WARNING FOB. FAIR WOMEN.

Confederate, iv. 3 Dismal deed, iii. 6

Confer the markf iii. 5 , Doctor Steevens, i, 1
Conscience, a slain, iv. 8 Domineer, ind.
Consorted, i. 3 Doughty stuff, ind.
Contaminate with shedding Draw-latch, i. 3
blood, iii. 4 Drift, iv. 6
Contrition, iv. 5 Drifts, ii. d.s
Coresie, iv. 8 Drovers, ind.
Courteous a gentlewoman, i. Dumps, leave your, i. 3
1. his. Dusky night, ii. 3
Counterfeit, iv. 8
Coverture, ii. 1 Embrace together, iii. d.s
Coward, what, would not ven- Endless joys, iv. 8
ture, ill. 1 Endless torments, iv. 8
Crosi- and pile, iii i Ensign, down with that, ind.
Culele^.', i. 1 Ensign of despair, iii. 3
Current, iv 8 Entrance, fatal, ii. d.s bis.
Cuttelli throats, ind. Envious eager death, iii. d.s
Envious star, ii. 1
Damned drifts, ii. d,s Envy, iii. d.s
Damned di^eds, ii. d.s Errand-making gallants, i. 2
Damned feast, ii, d.s Executioner, ind.
Damned house on tire, ii. 1 Expert in all treachery, ii. d.s
Damned for this unhallowed Extremity, do me all, iv, 1
deed, iii. 1 Eye of heaven, ii, 1
Damned murder, ii, d.s
Damned train, ii d.s Faint hearted, iii. 1
Damned tyrant, ind Far fetched insinuation, iv. 6
Damned witch device, ii. d.s Fatal brand, ii. 1
Damned woman, iii. d.s Fatal comet, ii. 2
Darkuf'.-s best fits my intent, Fatal destiny, iii. d.s
iii. 1 Fatal door, iv. 4
Dead lift, iii. 6 Fatal hand, ii, 1
Dead men's skulls, ii. d.s Fatal stroke, iii. d,s
Deed of darkness, ii. 1 Fear and envy, iii. d.s
Delight proves danger, iv. d.s Feed upon poison and be fat,
Demure, i. 2 iii, 4
Desperate Dick, iii. 1 Fetch, sly, iv. 6
DestinVi fatal, iii. d.s Fiddle strings, ind.
Destinies, iii. d.s Fiddling tricks, ind.
Detested sin, ii. d.s Fig's end, but a, i. 3
Devil of hell, message to the Filthy, ind.
ii. 3 Filthy deed, iv. 5
Devil stumbles in the nick, Filthy sound, ind.
ii. 1 Fond (foolish), iv. 6
Dismal day, it is not, iii, 1 Foul actors, ii. d.s
 PHRASE INDEX. 131

Foul desires, iii. d.s Idle similes, ind.

Foul lust, epi. Impoisoned, ind.
Foul murder, iii. d.s Immanity, foul iv. d.s
Foul negro, ii. 3 Impious deeds, iii. d.s, iii. 5
Foul sheet, ind. Infect, more, than poison, iv.8
Foppery, ind. Instrument of hell, ii. d.s
Forbidden deeds, iv. d.s Intolerable, ind.
Force, of, epi. Inward, i. 1
Foredone thyself, iii. 1 It shall not need, ii. 1 bis, iv.2
Frolic feast, i. 1
Furies, ii. d s .lerked (whipped), iii. 4
Jests scraped up together, ind.
Gaming, unthrifty, iv. 5 Justice, baffle, iv. 6
Garbage, iii. 2 Justice for murder, iii. 3
Ghastly fearful chimes, ii. d.s Justice on myself, iii. 3
Ghastly thoughl,-, iv. d.s Justice, slumbering, iv. d.s
Ghost, whining, ind.
Gilliflowers-, ii. '1
Kalender of bloody letters,
Godhead, ind. iii. 3
Golden wire, net of, i. 1
Good clonk for the rain, i. 3 Labouring to his end, iv. 2
Guiltless- blood, ii. d.s Lawless actions, iv. d.s
Guiltless soul, Iv. i Lawless lust, ii. d s
Guilty cnn.science, iii. iv. d.s Let me be held a coward, ii. 3
Gup mistress, ind. Line of life, i. 4
Loathsome discontents iv. d.s
Hammer so within her head, Loathsome filth, iv. 5
i. 4 Loose, just in the, iii. d.s
Handkercher in liis blood, iii. Love's false artillery, i. 2
Hangman, the common, ind. Love's fire, i. 4
Harlotries are bespoken, iii. 1 Love had slyly laid in her fair
Harmless soul, iv. 3 looks, i. 1
Hateful life, to end his, ii. 3 Luggage, ind.
Heart-blood, i. 1 Lust brings the axe, iii. d.s
Heart, aimed at his, iii. d.s Lust doth conquer, ii. d.s
Heart, heavy at the, iii. 1 Lust Gain and Murder, iii. d.s
Heart's interpreter, i. 3 Lust's hateful fire, ii. 1

Heaven will have justice Lust leads, iii. d.s, bis

shown, iv. 1 Lust, wanton, iv. 3
Heinous sin, iii. 3, iv. 4, 8 Lust, wicked, iv. 8
Heinous cruelty, iv. 3 Lustful feasts, ii. d.s
Heinous murder, iv. 4 Lustful wine, ii. d.s
Herb John, i. 2
Howling in, ind. Made his ascension, iv. d.s
Hoyes, ii. 2 Make retire, i. 1
Make you, what, ii. 2
 132 A WARNING FOR FAIR WOMEN.
Malignant, ii. 1 Palmistry, i. 4 bis.

I Mark wliereat foul murder Pampered iii. 3

flesh,
shot, iii d.s Pass myself, ii. 3
Martyred me, iii. 1 Pass the ford, i. 1
Masque of devils, ii. 1 Passing dry, iv. 7
Massacre, iii. 1 Passion, drive her from this,
Mazors, ii. d.s iii. 3
Measure for measure, iv. d.s Past the use of speech, iii. 1
Melpomene, madam, ind. Peace with that drum, ind.
Mere innocent, iv. 6 Peat, i. 1
Miraculous, iii. d s Perflt, iv. 2
Misdone, iii. 3 Perjuries, vile, iv. 5
Mistrust, i, 3 Pig half-sticked, ind.
Modest lier looks, i. 2 Pikh, leather, iud.
Monstrous fashion, vile, iv. 6 Pillory, iv. 6
Monstrous oaths, iv. 5 Piteous plight, iii. 1
Most ab.-olute, i. 3 Plague upon 't, ind.
Motion, ii. 3 Play bills, ind.
Mountains will not cover it, Poison, able to, iud.
iii. 4 Poison, more infect than, iv. 8
Murder's beadle, ind. Policy wit hath in store, iii. 4
Murder, blood and, ind. Portent ious vision, ii. 1
Murder and death, ii. 1 Poverty parts company, iii. 6
Murder most unnatural, iv. 4 Prejudice your pleasure, i. 2
Murder spurred this villian on Presenters of my misery, iii. 4
iii. d.s Pretence of murder, iii. 4
Muses, the, ind. Prevailing sin, iv. d.s
My eyes dazzle, iii. 1 Pride, detestable, iv. 5
Prodigious crimes, iv. d.s
Nailed him to a post, ii. 3 Prodigious for my lust, iii. 3
Neck, when in the, of this, i. 4 Profaned with wicked vows,
Need, it shall not, ii. 1 bis, iii. 4
iv. 2 Promotion, ladder of, i. 4
Need, you should not, i. 3 Proper, iii. 2
Night raven, ii. d s Proper man, i. 3
Night, sable, ii. 1 Propitioner, iv. 8
Night, thick ugly, ii. 1 Puling passion of a lover, ind.
Noble wit, ind. Purple buskins, ind.
Notorious transgrtsssors, iv. 8
Quick capacity, i. 3
Outlawry, iv. 1 Quittance, i. 4
Outrageous, iii. 3 Quit that evil, i. 4
Overweening, iv. 6 Quit your pain, i. 1, iv. 6
Quite your tale, iv. 3
Painful, iv. 2
Pale, the English, i, 1 Back a thought, ind.
 PHRASE INDEX. 133

Rap the senses, ind. Stews, common, iv. 5

Eavenous wolf, iii. d.s Stifles mine ears, ind.
Kemission, iv. 8 Store, i. 3
Remorse (pity), iii. d.s Stoop unto the lure, i. 3
Reprol)Htes, iv. 8 Straight-laced, i. 1
Respective, ii. 1 Stratagem, i. 4
Resolve your doubt, i 2 Studious and unsociable, iii. 1
Retain, iv. 8 Subtle, i. 1
Rosa soils, i. 1 Supple a stone, i. 1
Rosin, ind. Surfeit, i. 1
Sweb, I shall, iii. 1
Sabbath days, iv. .5 Sword 's, my, unfortunate, ii.3
tSacranient, iv. ;j Swound, iii. 1
Sad distret.^ed man, iii. d.s Swounds iv. 2 !,

Safeguard of thy sinful soul,

iv. 3 Tailor's bodkin, ind.
Scandal to the world, iv. 8 Tainted, iv. 8
Scoldt. me off, ind. Take off her skin, ind.
Scorned of the multitude, ind. Taste of any grace, iv. 8
Scornful nay, i. 2 Temper your excessive grief,
Scraping thus, ind. iii. 4

Screech-owl; ii. d.s Tempered like wax, i. 3

Scriptures, ii. a Thief or true man, ii. 2
Scourge and lash, ind. Third time pays all, ii. 3
Seal of thy destruction, ii. 1 'Tycing eyes, iii. 3
Secret malady, i. 1 Time and scope enough, iv. 8
See how their wounds do Time, another, shall serve,
gape, iii. 1 i. 4, ii. '.:•

Shallow unjudicial ears, iud Time, some other, shall serve,

Sheepskin, this brawling, ind. ii. 1
Shrewd suspicion, Iv. 2 Timeless death, iii. 1
Slain conscience, iv. 8 Tobacco-pipe, ind.
Sluice out his life, ii. 1 Touch of conscience, iv. 6
Sluiced forth sin, epi. Touch, unto the, iv. 8
Soap and water, iii. 2 Touched with remorse, iii. d.s
Solemn vow, 3 ii. Touchy, ind.
Spare not to speak, i. 1 Torch-bearer, ii. 1
Sparks of wit, ind. Tottered ruins, iv. 8
Speak your conscience, ii. 3 Towards, ind.
Speed, as I, i. 1 Traced, ii. 3
Spital, sermons at the, ii. 2 Tremble every joint, iii. 1
Spotless innocence, iv. 4 Turquoise, i. 1
Spurred this villain, iii. d.s Turn the leaf, iv. 8
Squib, ind. Tyranny, hangman to, ind.
Stand thief or true man, ii. 2
Standing, take our, ii. 3 Umberst, ii. 2
134 A WARNING FOR FAIR U OMEN.

Unguilty, ii. d.s Wallowed in filth, iv. 5

Unhallowed deed, iii. 1 Wandering travellers, i. 2
Unquenched in blood, ii. 1 AVanton lust, iv. 3
Unquenched fire, iv. » Water-bearer's wife, i. 1
Unrest, iv. d.s Waterman, ii. 3
Unsociable, iii. 1 We shall not need, iii. 5
Untimely, iii. 3 Whereas, i, 4, iii. d.s
Unwary mind,';, iv. d.s Whip you hence, ind.
Ure, ii. d s Whining ghost, ind.
Use, i. 2, 4, iv. 5 Whirligig, ind.
Used, i. 4 Whisp unto a scold, ind.
Wicked lust, iv. 8
Vehemently suspected, iii.5 Wilful sin, iv. 8
Vengeance, cry out for, iii. 4 Will (command), iv. 3
Vengeance, calling for, iii. 1 Wis, i. 4
Vengeance, due, qualified, epi. Woman's sin, a, iii. 3
Venomed ulcer, epi. Women love most, i. 1
Vild, i, 4 Wonder 's towards, what, ind.
Vile murderer, iii. d.s Worrying of a cat, ind.
Vile transgression, iv. 8 Wot of, i. 3
Vindicta, ind, Wot of, matter you, ii. 3
Virtuous her aspect, i. 2 Wounds, deadly, fii. 1
Vision, portentious, ii. 1 Wrings her hands, iii. d.s
Vital thread of life, iii. d.s Wringing hands, iv. d.s
Void the place, i. 3
Yield their guilty necks, iv.
Wade through blood, ii. 1 d.s.
Wait (attend), ii. 1 Yellow spots upon my fingers,
Wukes slumbring justice, iv. i. 4
d.s
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