All the way as you passe (especially being approcht néere some of the Gates) talke of none but Lords, and such Ladies with whom you haue plaid at Primero, or daunced in the Presence the very same day: It is a chaunce to lock vp the lippes of an inquisitiue Bel-man: and being arriud at your lodging doore, which I would councell you to choose in some rich Cittizens house, salute at parting no man but by the name of Sir, (as though you had supt with Knights) albeit you had none in your company, but your Perinado or your Inghle.
Happily it will be blowne abroad that you and your Shoale of Gallants swom through such an Ocean of wine, that you danced so much money out at héeles, and that in wild-•oule there slew away thus much, and I assure you to haue the of your reckoning lost of purpose, so that it may be •ublisht, will make you to be held in déere estimation: onely the danger is, if you owe money, and that your reuealing ge•s your Creditors by the eares; for then looke to haue a peale of ordinance thundring at your chamber doore the next morning. But if either your Tailor, Mercer, Haberdasher, Silkeman, Cutter, Linnen-Draper, or Sempster, stand like a guard of Switzers about your lodging watching your vprising, or if they misse of that, your downe lying in one of the Counters, you haue no meanes to auoid the galling of their small shot, then by sending out a light-horseman to call your Potecary to your aide, who encountring this desperate band of your Creditors, only with 2. or 3. glasses in his hand, as though that day you purgd, is able to driue them all to their holes like so many Foxes: for the name of taking physicke is a sufficient Quietus est, to any endangered Gentleman, and giues an acquittance (for the time) to them all, though the twelue Companies stand with their hoods to attend your comming forth, and their Officers with them.
I could now fetch you about noone (the houre which I prescribed you before to rise at) out of your chamber, and carry you with mee in to Paules Church-yard, where planting your selfe in a Stationers shop, many instructions are to bée giuen you, what bookes to call for, how to censure of new bookes, how to mew at the old, how to looke in your tables and inquire for such and such Greeke, French, Italian or Spanish Authors, whose names you haue there, but whom your mother for pitty would not giue you so much wit as to vnderstand. From thence you should blow your selfe into the Tobacco-Ordinary, where you are likewise to spend your iudgement (like a Quacksaluer) vpon that mysticall wonder, to bee able to discourse whether your Cane or your Pudding be sweetest, and which pipe has the best boare, and which •urnes black, which breakes in the burning, &c. Or if you itch, to step into the Barbers, a whole Dictionary cannot afford more words to set downe notes what Dialologues you are to maintaine whilest you are Doctor of the Chaire there. After your shauing, I could breath you in a Fence-schoole, and out of that cudgell you into a Dauncing Schoole, in both which I could weary you by shewing you more tricks then are in 5. galleries, or 15. prizes. And to close vp the stomach of this feast, I could make Cockneies, whose fathers haue left them well, acknowledge themselues infinitely beholden to me for teaching them by familiar demonstration, how to spend their patrimony, and to get themselues names when their fathers are dead and rotten. But lest too many dishes should cast you into a surfet, I will now take away: yet so that if I perceiue you relish this well, the rest shall be (in time) prepared for you.
Fare-well.
FINIS.
LANTHORNE AND CANDLE-LIGHT. OR, THE BELL-MANS SECOND NIGHTS-WALKE
In which He brings to light, a Brood of more strange Villanies then euer were till this yeare discouered.
— Decet nouisse malum, fecisse, nefandum.
The second edition, newly corrected and amended
LONDON Printed for Iohn Busby, and are to be solde at his shop in Fleetestreete, in Saint Dunstanes Church-yard.
1609.
TO THE VERRY WORTHY GENTLEMAN MAISTER FRANCIS MUSTIAN OF PECKAM.
Sir.
IT may (happily) seeme strange vnto you, that such an army of Idle-words should march into the open field of the world vnder the Ensigne of your Name, (you beeing not therewith made acquainted till now you may iudge it in me an Error, I my selfe confesse it a boldnesse. But such an ancient & strong Charter hath Custome confirmed to This Printing age of ours, (by giuing men authoritie to make choice of what Patrons they like,) that some Writers do almost nothing contrary to ye custome, and some by vertue of that Priuiledge, dare doe any thing. I am neither of that first order, nor of this last. The one is too fondly-ceremonious, the other too impudently audacious I walk in the midst (so well as I can) betweene both: with some fruites that haue growne out of my Brain, haue I bin so farre from being in loue, that I thought them not worthy to be tasted by any particular friend & therefore haue they bin exposed only to those that would entertain them: neither did I thinke the Fairest that euer was Mine, so worthy, that it was to be lookd vpon with the Eye of vniuersal censure. Two sorts of mad-men trouble the stationers shops in Pauls Church-yard: they that out of a Mee and Idle vaine-glory will euer be Pamping (tho their bookes beeing printed are scarse worth so much Browne paper) and this is a very poore, and foolish ambition: Of the other sort are they that beeing free of Wits Merchant-venturers, do euery new moon (for gaine onely) make 5. or 6. voiages to the Presse, and euery Term-time (vpon Booksellers stalles) lay whole litters of blinde inuention: fellowes ye (if they do but walke in the middle Ile) spit nothing but ynck, and speake nothing but Poeme. I would keepe company with neither of these two mad-men, if I could auoid them, yet I take the last to be the wisest and lesse dangerous for sithence al the arrowes that men shoote in the world, flye to two marks only (either pleasure or profit) he is not much to be co¯demned that hauing no more Acres to liue vppon then those that lie in his head) is euery houre hammering out one peice or other out of this rusty Iron age, sithence the golden and siluer Globes of the world are so locked vp, that a Scholler can hardly be suffred to behold them. Some perhaps wil say, that this lancing of the pestilent fores of a Kingdome so openly, may infect those in it that are found, and that in this our schoole, (where close abuses & grose villanies are but discouered and not punished) others that neuer before knew such euils, wil be now instructed (by the booke) to practise them. If so, then let not a traitor, or a Murderer be publikely arraigned, lest the one laying open to the world, how his plots were wouen to contriue a treason, or the other, what pollicies he was armed with, for the shedding of blood, the standers-by (that are honest) be drawn (by their rules) to run head-long into the same mischiefe: no, Our strong phisicke works otherwise. What more makes a man to loath that Mongrell Madnesse (that halfe English, halfe Dutch sinne) Drunkennesse: then to see a common Drunkard acting his Scaenes in the open streete? Is any Gamester so foolish to play with false Dice, when he is assured that al who are about him know him to be a Sworne Cheator? The letting therfore of Uice blood in these seuerall Veines, which the Bel-man hath opend, cannot by any Iudicial rules of phisicke, endanger the Bodie of the Common-wealth, or make it feeble, but rather restore those parts to perfect strength, which by disorder haue ben diseased.
Giue mee leaue to lead you by the hand into a Wildernesse (where are none but Monsters, whose crueltie you need not feare because I teach the way to tame them: vgly they are in shape and diuelish in conditions: yet to behold them a far off, may delight you, and to know their quallities (if euer you should come neere them (may saue you from much danger. Our Country breedes no Wolues nor Serpents, yet Theise ingender here and are either Serpents or Wolues, or worse then both: whatsoeuer they are, I send vnto you not the Heard of the one, or the Bed of the other, but only a Picture of either, View them I pray, and where the cullours are not well layde on, shadow them with your finger: if you spy any disproportion, thus excuse it, such Painting is fit for Monsters: How rudely soeuer the Peeceis drawne, call it a Picture. And when one more worthe your viewe lies vnder the workemans pencil, this Bad-one shall bring you home a Better: In the meane time, I cease, and begin to be (if you please)
All yours,
THOMAS DEKKER
TO MY OWNE NATION.
AFTER it was proclaimed abroad, that (vnder the conduct of the Bel-man of London,) new forces were (once more, to bee leauied against certaine Wilde and Barbarous Rebells, that were vp in open armes against the Tranquilitie of the Weale publique: It cannot bee tolde, what numbers of voluntaries offred themselues dayly to fight against so common, so bolde, so strange, and so dangerous an enemy. Light Horse-men came in hourely, with discouerie where these Mu•ineeres lay intrenched: deliuering (in briefe notes of intelligence) who were their Leaders, how they went Armed, and that they serued both on Horse & Foot: only their Strengthes could not hee discryed, because their Numbers were held infinite. Yet instructions were written and sent euerie minute by th•se that were Fauourers of Goodnesse shewing what Militarie Disciplines the foe vsed in his Battailes, and what Forts (if hee were put at any time to flight) he wold retire to; vvhat stratagems hee would practize, and where he did determine to lye in Ambuscado. They that could not serue in person in This Noble quarrell, sent their Auxiliary Forces, well armed with Counsell. So that the Bel-man (contrarie to his owne hopes,) seeing himselfe so strongly and strangely seconded by friends doth now brauely aduance forward, in maine battalion. The day of encounter is appointed to be in this Michaelmas Tearme. The place, Paules-Churh-yard, Fleetestreet, and other parts of the Ciitie. But before they ioyne, let me giue you note of one thing, and that is this.
There is an Vsurper, that of lat• hath taken vppon him the name of the Bel-man, but being not able to maintaine that Title, hee doth now call himselfe the Bel-mans brother, his ambition is (rather out of vaine glorie then the true courage of an Experienced Soldier) to haue the leading of the Van, but it shall be honor good enough for him (if not too good) to tome vp with the Rere. You shall know him by his Habiliments, for (by the furniture he weares) hee will bee taken for a Beadle of Bridewell. It is thought he is rather a Newter than a friend to the cause: and therefore the Bel-man dooth heere openly protest that he comes into the field as no fellowe in armes with Him.
Howsoeuer it be strucke, or whosoeuer giues the first blow, the victorie depends vpon the vallor of you that are the Winges to the Bels-mans army, for which conquest he is in hope you will valiantly fight sithence the quarrel is against the head of monstrous abus•, and the blowes which you must giue are in defence of Law, Iustice, Order, Ceremony, Religion, Peace, and that honorable title of Goodnesse.
Saint George! I see the two Armies mooue forward: and beholde, the Bel-man himselfe first chargeth vppon the face of the Enemy. Thus:
TO THE AUTHOR.
HOW e’re thou maist by blazing all Abuse,
Incurre suspect, thou speak’st what thou hast prou’d,
(Tho then to keepe it close it thee behou’d,
S•, Reason makes for thee a iust excuse)
Yet of thy paines, the B•st may make good vse,
Then of the Best, thy paines should be approu’d,
And for the same of them shouldst be belou’d.
Sith thou of Falsehoods Floud d•’st ope the Sluce,
That they at wast• continually may runne,
By she wing men •he R•aches that they haue,
That honest men may so or’e-reach a Knaue,
Or •ound their swallowing Deepes, the same to shunne:
But if from hence, a Knaue more cunning growes,
That Spider sucks but poison from thy Rose.
Thy friend if thine owne, Io: Da:
TO HIS FRIEND.
OF Vice, whose Counter-mine a state confounds,
Worse then Sedition: of those Mortall Woundes
Which (throughly search’d) doe Kingdomes hearts endanger:
Of Plagues that o’re run Citties: of those stranger
Big-swolne Impostumes, poisning the strong health
Of the most Sound, best Dieted Common-wealth,
Thou tell’st the Causes, and doest teach the Cure,
By Mea’cine well-compounded, cheape, and sure:
And (as One read in deepe Chirurgery,)
Draw’st of these Eu’lls, the true Anatomy.
Then, on thy Plainnesse let none lay reproofe,
Thou tak’st Sinne’s heigth (as men doe starres) aloofe.
M: R:
TO MY INDUSTRIOUS FRIEND.
IN an ill Time thou writ’st, when Tongues had rather
Spit venome on thy lines, then from thy labours
(As Druggists doe from poison) medicine gather;
This is no Age to crowne Desert with Fauors.
But be thou Constant to thy selfe, and care not
What Arrowes Mallice shootes: the Wise will neuer
Blame thy Lowd singing, and the Foolish dare not:
None else but Wolues will barke at thine Endeuor.
When thou (in thy dead Sleepe) liest in thy Graue,
These Charmes to after-Ages vp shall raise thee;
What heere thou leau’st, aliue thy Name shall saue,
And what thou now dispraisest, shall then praise thee.
Tho, Not to know ill, be wise Ignorance,
Yet thou (by Reading Euill) doest Goodnesse teach,
And, of abuse the coullors doost aduance
Onely vpon abuse to force a breach;
The honor that thy pen shall earne thereby,
Is this: that tho Knaues Liue, their flights (Here) dye.
E: G:
LANTHORNE & CANDLE-LIGHT, OR THE BELL-MANS SECOND NIGHTS WALKE.
Of Canting. How long it hath beene a language: how it comes to bee a language: how it is deriued, & by whom it is spoken.
CHAP. I.
WHEN all the World was but one Kingdome, all the People in that Kingdome spake but one language. A man could trauell in those dayes neither by Sea nor land, but he mett his Country-men & none others.
Two could not then stand gabling with strange tongues, and conspire together (to his owne face) how to cut a third mans throat, but he might vnderstand them. There was no Spaniard (in that Age) to Braue his enemy in the Rich and Lofty Castilian: no Romaine Orator to plead in the Rethoricall and Fluent Latine: no Italian to court his Mistris in the swéete and Amorous Thuscane• no French-man to parley in the full and stately phrase of Orleans: no Germaine to thunder out the high and ratling Dutch: the vnfruitfull crabbed Irish, and the Uoluble significant Welch, were not then so much as spoken of: the quick Scottish Dialect (sister to the •nglish) had not then a tongue, neither were the stringes of the English spéech (in those times) vntyed. When she first learn’d to speake, it was but a broken language: the singlest and the simplest Words flowed from her vttera¯ce: for she dealt in nothing but in Monosillables, (as if to haue spoken words of greater length would haue crackt her Uoice) by which meanes her Eloquence was poorest, yet hardest to learne, and so (but for necessity) not regarded amo¯gst Stran¯gers. Yet afterwards those Noblest Languages lent her Words and phrazes, and turning those Borrowings into Good husbandry, shée is now as rich in Elocution, and as aboundant as her prowdest & Best-stored Neighbors.
Whilst thus (as I said before) there was but one Alphabet of Letters, for all the world to Read by all the people that then liued, might haue wrought vpon one péece of worke in countries farre distant a sunder, without mistaking one another, and not néeding an interpreter to runne betwéene them. Which thing Nymrod (the first Idolater,) perceiuing, and not knowing better how to imploy so many thousand Millio¯s of Subiects as bowed before him: a fire of Ambition burn’d within him, to climbe vp so high that hee might sée what was done in heauen: And for that purpose, workmen were summoned from all the corners of the Earth, who prese¯tly were set to Build the Tower of Babell. But the Maisterworkema¯ of this Great Vniuerse, (to check the Insole¯ce of such a Sawcie builder) that durst raize vp Pynnacles, equall to his owne (aboue) commanded the selfe-same Spirit that was both bred in the Chaos and had mainteind it in disorder, to bee both Surueyor of those workes and Comptroller of the Labourers. This Messenger was called Confusion. It was a Spirit swift of sight, & fai
thfull of seruice. Her lookes wilde, terrible and inconstant. Her attire, carelesly, loose, and of a thousand seuerall coulors. In one hand shée grip’d a heape of stormes with which (at her pleasure) she could trouble ye waters: In the other she held a whip, to make three Spirits that drew her, to gallop fastes before her: the Spirits names were Treason, Sedition & War, who at euery time w• they went abroad, were ready to set Kingdomes in vproare. She roade vpon a Chariot of Clownes, w• was alwayes furnished with Thunder, Li•htning, Winds, Raine, Haile-stones, Snow, & all the other Artillery belonging to the seruice of Diuine Vengeance: & when she spake, her Voyce sounded like the roaring of many Torrents, boystrously strugling together: for betwéene her Iawes did she carry 1000000. Tongues.
This stra¯ge Linguist, stepping to euery Artificer that was there at worke, whispred in his eare whoses lookes were there vpon (presently) with a strange distraction: and on a suddaine whilst euery man was speaking to his fellow, his language altred and no man could vnderstand what his fellow spake. They all stared one vpon another, yet none of them all could tell wherefore so they stared Their Tongues went, and their hands gaue action to their Tongues: yet neither words nor action were vnderstood. It was a Noise of a thousand sounds, and yet the sound of the noise was nothing. Hée that spake, knew hée spake well: and he that heard, was madde that the other could speake no better. In the end they grew angry one with another, as thinking they had mocked one another of purpose. So that the Mason was ready to strike the Bricklayer, the Bricklayer to beats out the braines of his Labourer: the Carpenter tooke vp his Axe to throw at the Caruer, whilst the Caruer was stabbing at the Smith, because hee brought him a Ha¯mer when he should haue made him a Chizzell. He that called for Timber, had Stones laide before him: & when one was sent for Nailes, he fetcht a Tray of Mortar.
Thus Babell should haue béene raized, and by this meanes Babell fell. The Frame could not goe forward, the staffe was throwne by, the workemen made hollyday. Euery one packd vp his tooles to be gone, yet not to goe the same way that he came but glad was he, that could méete another, whose spéech hee vnderstood for to what place soeuer he went, others (that ran madding vp and downe) hearing a man speake like themselues, followed onely him: so that they who when the worke began were all countrimen, before a quarter of it was finished, fled from one another, as from enemies & stra¯gers: And in this maner did Men at the first make vp natio¯s: thus were words coynd into Languages, & out of those Languages haue others beene molded since, onely by the mixture of nations, after kingdomes haue béen subdued. But I am now to speake of a People & a Language, of both which (many thousands of yeares since that Wonder wrought at Babell) the world till now neuer made mention: yet confusion neuer dwelt more amongst any Creatures. The Bell-ma¯ (in his first Voyage which he made for Discoueries) found them to bée sauages, yet liuing in an Iland very te¯pera•e, fruitfull, full of a Noble Nation, and rarely gouerned. The Lawes, Ma¯ners and habits of these Wild-men, are plainly set downe, as it were in a former painted Table. Yet least happily a stranger may looke vpon this second Picture of them, who neuerbeheld The first, it shall not bée amisse (in this place) to repeate ouer againe the Names of all the Tribes into which they Diuide themselues, both when they Serue abroad in the open fields, and when they lye in garrison within Townes & walled Citties.
Complete Dramatic Works of Thomas Dekker Page 231