BARNABY

Your journimen shall mount then Master, for my foots in the Stirrup Already, ply your work Mistress, we always bring Your labours to good ends I'll warrant ye. I'll eat the feet if she do Master; Statutes are strong, Master, therefore we should have strong drink: I had rather wear Lace by the Statute, than drink if it be small. I am afraid there will be too many Christians sir, Because many use to go a Pilgrimage Barefoot; And that's and ill wind for our profit. O good Master entertain they, we want junior prentices For under work. New Aprons and Caps here, for a Couple of Gent. So on with your Breast plate, this Cap makes thee a graduate, You are come amongst Bacularious, beare-up your heads boys, Weel teach ye to bristle, wax better and better, last to The 12, then set foot in the stirrup and have at all. The chimes of my belly has gone, it should be passed twelve. Indeed sweet Lady you must pardon this young man, it's His fault, he has not yet the true handling of his work, he Cannot go through stich yet, I hope your Ladyship knows that I have yorkt as well for you, as any Cordwainer in Kenned Or Canterbury could do, and for a tunable heel I think I have played my partly. A creak Madam, for a Musical creak, never a boy in Feversham Yet went beyond me: in time my Junior will do pretty well, Hee' raw yet, at the change of his voice heel creak far Better than he does yet. Oh for great cause for sooth, to hide faults, for if a gentlewoman Such as your self, should chance to play too loud of her wind Instrument, the creak of the shoe will cover the noise. Alas Madam, I would be loath to discredit the young man, He's but a col yet, a subsi r as they say, I brought him along to the Court to show him fashions, and to instruct him how to handle a Ladies Leg, to draw home his work, and teach him his nill ultra How far he may go. Non ultra crepitum as they say, this once learned, he Shall come alone hereafter. Alas Madam, heel pinch your toes if I do not instruct him, He's but a cobbler yet. Away, away for shame, did I teach you that carriage? Teach him the true behaviour, hear, level me a leg Here, now stretch him outright upon your thigh, and then You may come to your work finely, I have found the fault now You are pinched in the very cranny. I told you so, a man of a longer standing will do Always better then a puny, he shall mend it I you Ma If he do Madam, you know your old man, for ya ke and Seam, and handling beware in his kind, you cannot put your egg in a better workman's hands though I say it sweet Lady. Endue got a whee. Exit Crisp. and Bar. O, o, o. O Master, if you did but feel what a breath comes out, You would stop your nose in't. O dame, I'll confess and be hanged rather then I'll be pressed. Alas, if I hear any noise I'm a dead man. O a little aqua-composita : good dame, I have a quaking Ague come upon me. O, I have a stitch in my Elbow here; a little Parmacadi S. Farewell good Crispian. I shall never see thee more. Farewell Crispianus. I am somewhat better than I was Master; I do begin to feel my self better and better. Oh Mistress, there is always policy in Wars as well as blows: if it be good sleeping in a whole skin, it must needs be bade sleeping in a broken one; and he that cannot sleep well, it is a sign he cannot drink well; and he that does not drink well, never digests his meat well; and he that digests not his meat well, it's a sign he has not a good stomach; and he that has not a good sto macke, is not fit for the Wars. I did think it better to stay at home truly Master. Well Cozen Hugh, I will do my best to instruct thee: But you must take heed there be no Turkeycocks in your work. Your Turkey-cock is as much as to say, Cobble, cobble, cobble; You must take heed of cobbling. Come, come, and you be men, make haste: You it's a hanging matter; the Emperor and all the Prisoners Are gone by already. Not to buy the Cat a Bell Crispin, but to make loiter-pins. For this day Boy, we have made holy at Feversham, Shut up shop, thrown by our shoe-thread, and washed our faces: And now my Master and Dame, and all of us are come To see the Emperor, and the Christians that must die to day. They say there's a fine young Queen amongst them: Prithee go along with us. In madness now I care not: For our shoes are made of running leather, And therefore we'll gallop no man knows whither. Farewell Crispine : shalt see my Dame come chasting this away anon, Because we ran away from her: Come fellow Hugh, Thou art so sad now, I prithee be merry. Exit Barnaby and Ralph. Oh pitiful Master, intolerable Dame, I am the fore-bell, and 'as ȝung all in many a time and often with you Dame: but now I must king out mine own eyes in tears, in dolour, and most dole full k else: My fellow Hugh is taken, And condemned Like a Christian. Oh Master, your man Hugh is not the man you took him for; not plain Hugh, but Sir Hugh, a Knight of fame. Nay, by St. Davy, he's more, he's a Welch Prince, And son to the King of Powes in South Wales, Though he but a Shoemaker here. As we were going to see the Christians, he spied his old Love Queen Winifred amongst them, and at the very sighed he look't as green as a leek, and so rushed in amongst them; took the Lady by the Lily-white hand, railed on the Roman gods, defied the Empe rour, and swore he would die if she did. It's true Sir, all the Sergeants and Officers that came to arrest him, pitying his case, persuaded him to be no good Christian, as they were: then there was a Broker said he would lay his soul to pawn, he could not prosper if he were a Christian; nay, the Jailer cries out on him, and says, if he continue a Christian, he'll use him Like a Dog. Nay, stay sweet Master, 'Twas never seen that a Shoemaker and his men Were base Bassilomions, but true bonus socius, Up see freeze, though we cannot get him from prison, I'll fell my coat from my back, ere a Shoemaker Shall want: Let us show our selves Cavaleeres Or Cobblers: come every man his twelvepence A piece to drink with him in prison. I thank you Dame: Nay, weel never leave a brother of our Company, as long as flesh and bones Will hang together. Nay fellow Hugh, or noble Sir Hugh, remember it's not every men case to die a Christian; prithee leave it then, and save thy life; the Roman gods are as good gods as ever tro e on a shoe of leather: and therefore sweet Hugh we may get their custom, and bring they to our shop, and so we sh ll be Shoemakers to the gods. Leave thee, not as long as thou livest Faith. Men that respect a Christian no more than you do, Sir you need not fear, there's not a good Christian among us. A right Shoemaker, he loves a woman. Yes, and 'twere Aquavitae we would pledge thee. We are Shoemakers, and so. O noble Sir, Hugh. Take no care for thy winding sheet, sweet Hugh, for ne for was gentleman of the Gentle craft so buried as thou shouldst be, if thou hadst drunk thy last. No Shoemakers now Sir, but the gentle Craft Shall see it buried in state and pomp. Well my Master's, I could fi de in my heart to rail upon this Emperor Mr. Minus, but that I doubt he'll make us all die Like Christians, and that he shall never do as long as we live I warrant him. So let him pass then, and let us lay our sinodicall heads to gether, to know what shall become of Sir Hugh. How Like a Christian thou talkest: what before he be cold? then we should use him as many rich heirs desire to use their father's: No, because he was a Prince, and did such honour to our Trade, we'll bury him Like a Prince and a Shoemaker. You know he gave us the name of the Gentle Craft, and if we should give him and ill word now, 'twere a shame i'faith. Marry thus fellow-gentlemen, of my fellow Hugh's making, to requite his kindness, because he died a Christian, he shall no mor be called Sir Hugh, but St. Hugh, and the Saint for ever of all the Shoemakers in England. And you be Gentlemen, hear me: you know beside, has gi ven his bones amongst us. Now you must not think as if a Butcher had given us a dozen of maribones to be picked. Marry thus; in memory of his gift, all our working-tool , from this time for ever, shall be called St. Hugh's bones. Marry even all fellow Ralph, all the tools we work with: as for example, the Drawer, Dresser, Wedges, Heel-block, hand and thumb-lethers, Shoe-thrids, Pincers, pricking-aule, and a rub bing-stone, Aule, Steel, and Tacks, shoo -hairs, and Stirrups, whet stone, and stopping-stick, Apron, and Paring-knife, all these are Sir Hugh's bones. Now sir, whatsoever he be, that is a Gentleman of the Gentle Craft, and has not all these at his fingers ends, to reckon them up in Rhyme, shall presently up with him, and strapado his bum. Nay, hear me sing Like a Swan, or a Sowter: Furthermore, if any Journeyman shall travel without these tools, now called St. Hugh's bones, at his back, and cannot slash, cut, and crack coxcombs, with brave Sword and Buckler, long sword, and quarterstaff, found a Trumpet, or play o'th Flute, 'or bear his partly in a three men Song, he shall forfeit a Gallon of wine, and be con ted a Colt as long as his shoes are made of running leather: Speak, is't agreed on? We'll take up the body then. With reverence and with silence then: For as we have made these Laws in remembrance of him, so it shall not be a miss to make it the sweeter, to reckon up our tools, and put them in meeter, and instead of a Deirge, I think it fit time and reason to reckon Sir Hugh's bones in Rhyme: The Drawer first, and then the Dresser, Wedges and Heel-blocks, greater and lesser; Yet 'tis not worth two Ganders feathers, Unless you have the hand and thumb-lethers: Then comes your short-heals, Needle, and Thimble, With Pincers and pricking Aule, so neat and nimble: Rubbing-stone next, with Aule, Steel, and Tacks, Which often will hold when the shoe-leather cracks: Then Stirrup, stopping-stick, with good Sow-haires, Whetstone, and cutting-knife which sharply pares; And lastly, to clap Saint Hugh's bones in And Apron that's made of a jolly sheeps skin, And thus to all Shoemakers we bid adieu, With triumph to bury the famous St. Hugh. Exeunt. And you be men, show your selves so. Out of our wits I think Sir; The Beacons all along the Seacoast burn most horribly. Because they are a fire Sir: Ten thousand Kentish men Which woeful tail's to tell, are knocked down Like sheep Sir: The Enemy is landed at Sandwitch, set a shore at Dover, And arrived at Rumny Marsh : hark, I hear the Drums already. A low march. I would your Guard were here for us to stand upon, That we might reach the further: Come, fear nothing Sir; Let your Lords and you stand by, and see How we Shoemakers will thrash they. By St. Hugh bones we were all afraid of our own shadows, we shall have no cussing now I see. Enter Lutius. Dost hear fellow Ralph, Me thinks I should know this Captain; He looks as Like Crispianus as can be? I say it's he; I'll speak to him what ere come on't. Crispianus? Oh Rumps and Kidneys, did not I tell you so? In health, and brave as Holly: So art thou me thinks. The old wench still: she keeps the mark in her mouth O he is the foreman of the shop since you went Nay, we have news to tell thee anon when we are Drinking; we have given over the Shoemakers Cloaks now, and are become Gentlemen Of the Gentle Craft, and all our working Tools are called Saint Hugh is bones. As long as this Drum will strike, We'll fight it out with pike and pot: We'll drink a health to you both Master. Exit. It's very true Sir; when she was the lost sheep, He was the Shepherd that found her; When she was a cold, he covered her; Nay more, when she was hungry, he filled her belly: It's known we can get Children Sir. Would you had married me no worse. We have a boon my Lord the Emperor. That seeing these two Princes, Fellow servants with us, being of the Gentle Craft, May have one Holiday to our selves. The five and twentieth of October, That none of our Trade may go to bed sober.