THE

CUSTOM OF THE COUNTRY.'

The Commendatory Verses by Gardiner and Lovelace speak singly of Fletcher, as Author of this Play; other writers speak of Beaumont as sharer in it. It was first printed in 1647, when ten of the then principal performers collected into a folio volume thirty-five dramatic pieces of our Poets, which had never before been published. Colley Cibber has founded his comedy of Love Makes a Man, or the Fop's Fortune, on this play and the Elder Brother of our Authors.

THE PROLOGUE.

So free this work is, gentlemen, from offence,
That, we are confident, it needs no defence
From us, or from the Poets. We dare look
On any man, that brings his table-book
To write down what again he may repeat
At some great table, to deserve his meat.
Let such come swell'd with malice, to apply
What is mirth here, there for an injury.
Nor lord, nor lady, we have tax'd; nor state,
Nor
any private person; their poor hate

Will be starv'd here; for envy shall not find
One touch that may be wrested to her mind.
And yet despair not, gentlemen; the play
Is quick and witty; so the Poets say,
And we believe them; the plot neat and new;
Fashion'd like those that are approv'd by you:
Only 'twill crave attention in the most;
Because, one point unmark'd, the whole is lost.
Hear first then, and judge after, and be free;
And, as our cause is, let our censure be.

ANOTHER PROLOGUE.

A well-drawn piece, which gave a lawful birth
To passionate scenes, mix'd with no vulgar
mirth.

But unto such to whom 'tis known by fame
From others, perhaps, only by the name,
I am a suitor, that they would prepare
Sound palates, and then judge their bill of fare.
It were injustice to decry this now,
For being lik'd before: You may allow [schools,
(Your candour safe) what's taught in the old
All such as liv'd before you were not fools.'

PERSONS REPRESENTED.

governor, and a disho
nourable pursuer of Ze-
nocia.

{

governor of Lisbon,
and brother to Guio-

mar.

a gentleman contracted to Ze-
nocia.

RUTILIO, {a merry gentleman, brother to

CHARINO, father to Zenocia.

son to Guiomar; a gentleman

DUARTE, well qualified, but vainglorious.

chaste wife.

GUIOMAR, a virtuous lady, mother to Duarte.
La rich lady, wantonly in love

HIPPOLYTA, with Arnoldo.

SULPITIA, a bawd, mistress of the male-stews.

Doctor, Chirurgeon, Officers, Guard, Page, Bravo, Knaves of the male-stews, Servants.

The SCENE, sometimes LISBON, sometimes ITALY.

'The Custom, on which a main part of the plot of this comedy is built, prevailed at one time, as Mons. Bayle tells us, in Italy; till it was put down by a prudent and truly pious carVEL. I.

U

ACT I.

do you grieve thus still? Arn. Twould melt a marble, And tame a savage man, to feel my fortune. · Rut. What fortune? I have liv'd this thirty [tunes,

years,

And run through all these follies you call for-
Yet never fix'd on any good and constant,
But what I made myself: Why should I
At that I may mould any way? [grieve, then,
Arn. You are wide still.

Rut. You love a gentlewoman, a young
handsome woman;

[calling,

I have lov'd a thousand, not so few.
Arn. You are dispos'd-
Rut. You hope to marry her; 'tis a lawful
And prettily esteem'd of; but take heed then,
Take heed, dear brother,2 of a stranger for-
[friend to it.
foe's a
yet: Fortune my

tune Than e'er

felt you

Arn. 'Tis true, I love, dearly and truly love, A noble, virtuous, and most beauteous maid; And am belov'd again.

Rut. That's too much o' conscience, [wits. To love all these, would run me out o' my Arn. Prithee, give ear. I am to marry her. Rut. Dispatch it, then, and I'll go call the piper. [country! Arn. But, oh, the wicked custom of this The barbarous, most inhuman, damned custom! [human Rut. "Tis true,3 to marry is the most inDamn'd custom in the world: for, look you, [hearts, Would any man stand plucking for the ace of With one pack of card, all days on's life? Arn. You do not, Or else you purpose not to,

brother,

understand me.
Rut. Proceed; I will give ear.
Arn. They have a Custom
In this most beastly country-out upon't!
Rut. Let's hear it first.

dinal. It is likewise generally imagined to have obtained in Scotland for a long time; and the received opinion hath hitherto been, that Eugenius III. king of Scotland (who began his reign A. D. 555) ordained, that the lord, or master, should have the first night's lodging with every woman married to his tenant or bondman. This obscene ordinance is supposed to have been abrogated by Malcolm III. who began his reign A. D. 1061, about five years before the Norman conquest; having lasted in force somewhat above five hundred years. See Blount in his Dictionary of Law-Termes, under the word Mercheta. Theobald.

This account hath received the sanction of several eminent antiquarians; but a learned writer, Sir David Dalrymple, hath undertaken to contravert the fact, and deny the actual existence of the Custom. See Annals of Scotland. The excellent Commentator on the Laws of England is of opinion, this Custom never prevailed in England, though he supposes it certainly did in Scotland.

R.

2 Take heed, dear brother, of a stranger fortune

Than e'er you felt yet; Fortune my foe's a friend to it.]

i.e. Take heed of the consequences of marriage, the chance of cuckoldom. But still this passage must be obscure to the most attentive reader, who is not informed of this circumstance. Fortune my foe' was the beginning of an old ballad, in which were enumerated all the misfortunes that fall upon mankind through the caprice of Fortune. This ballad is again men. tioned in our Authors' Knight of the Burning Pestle :

Old Mer. Sing, I say, or by the merry heart you come not in.
Merch. Well. Sir, I'll sing. Fortune my foe, &c.

And it is likewise mentioned in a comedy of more recent date, called the Rump, or Mirrour of the times (by John Tatham, printed in 1660). A Frenchman is introduced at the bonfires made for the burning of the Rumps; and, catching hold of Priscilla, Mrs. Lambert's waitingwoman, will oblige her to dance, and orders the music to play Fortune my foe.' Theobald.

3 'Tis true, to marry is a custom

I the world; for, look you, brother.] i. e. It is a custom to marry; for who would be such a fool as to marry? Besides the defect in the metre, this is flagrant nonsense. Nothing is more common in printing than to reprint the words of a foregoing line in a subsequent one; and when the same words are really to be repeated, the printer, by not attending to the sense, might naturally think it an error of the transcriber, and so omit them. This latter has undoubtedly happened in the place above, which therefore, I believe, I have restored, and the passage gains much humour by it. Seward.

There is certainly some defect in the text; and though, as Mr. Theobald observes, there is an uncommon liberty taken in this emendation,' yet we do not think a cure can be effected with less violence.

4 I would not go an ace less. i. e. As we now say, I would not bate an ace of it.

5 And where there is a wench yet can, a young wench,

A handsome wench, and sooner a good turn too.] The oldest folio exhibits it can, which the latter editors to this corrupted reading, and will lead us back again to the true one. nk I may venture to say, that I have both retrieved the metre and the meaning of the Aurs. Mr.Seward likewise saw with me, that i' th' case was necessary in the first part of the endation.

Virtue is never wounded, but I suffer.] This glorious sentiment, which, as the ingenious -. Sympson says, is more worthy of a philosopher than a woman, we have met with before, ewhat differently cloathed, in Philaster:

When any falls from virtue, I am distracted;

'Tis an ill office in your age, a poor one,
To judge thus weakly, and believe yourself too;
A weaker, to betray your innocent daughter
To his intemp'rate, rude, and wild embraces,
She hates as Heav'n hates falshood.

Rut. A good wench!
She sticks close to you, Sir.

Zen. His faith uncertain?

The nobleness his virtue springs from doubted?
D'ye doubt 'tis day now? or, when your body's
perfect,
[perate,
Your stomach well dispos'd, your pulses tem-
D'ye doubt you are in health? I tell you, fa-
ther,
[nobleness,

One hour of this man's goodness, this man's
Put in the scale against the count's whole
being,

(Forgive his lusts too, which are half his life)
He could no more endure to hold weight with
Arnoldo's very looks are fair examples; [him.
His common and indifferent actions,

Rules and strong ties of virtue. He has my
first love;

To him in sacred vow I have giv'n this body;
In him my mind inhabits.

Rut. Good wench still!

[serving.

Zen. And 'till he fling me off, as unde-
Which I confess I am of such a blessing,
But would be loth to find it so-

A love so nobly great, no pow'r can ruin!
Most blessed maid, go on: The gods that gave
this,

This pure unspotted love, the child of Heaven,
In their own goodness must preserve and save it,
And raise you a reward beyond our recompence.
Zen. I ask but, you a pure maid to possess,
And then they have crown'd my wishes: If
I fall then,
[you.

Go seck some better love; mine will debase
Rut. A pretty innocent fool! Well, governor,
Though I think well of your Custom, and
could wish myself

For this night in your place, heartily wish it ;
Yet if you play not fair play, and above-board
[more:

too,

I have a foolish engine here.7-I say no I'll tell you what, and, if your honours guts are not enchanted

Arn. I should now chide you, Sir, for so
declining
[shew'd me,
The goodness and the grace you have ever
And your own virtue too, in seeking rashly
To violate that love Heaven has appointed,
To wrest your daughter's thoughts, part that
affection
[give it—
That both our hearts have tied, and seek to
Rut. To a wild fellow, that would worry
her;8

A cannibal, that feeds on the heads of maids,
Then flings their bones and bodies to the devil.
Would any man of discretion venture such a
gristle

To the rude claws of such a cat o' mountain?
You'd better tear her 'tween two oaks!9 A
town-bull
[losopher;
Is a meer stoick to this fellow, a grave phi-
And a Spanish jennet a most virtuous gen-
tleman.10

"I have a foolish gin here.] The verse halts in its emphasis; and besides, gin, I think, is always used to signify a trap, or snare, never, a sword, or pistol, which carry open violence. Theobald.

To a wild fellow, that would weary her.] Mr. Theobald and Mr. Sympson concur in reading worry; which certainly agrees better with the sense of what follows than weary.

9 You had better tear her between two oaks.] I have cured the metre, and now must explain the allusion of our Poets. Sinis, or Sinnis, was a tyrant of a gigantic stature and strength, haunting the isthmus of the Peloponnese; and was called Ivxxus, or the Pine-bender. When any unhappy passenger fell into the clutches of this merciless inan, he would bend down by main force two pines till he had brought thein to meet together, and having fastened an arm and a leg to each of them, tore asunder the limbs of his wretched captives. Pausanias tells us, that one of those pines was to be seen on the banks of a river even in his time, under the reign of Adrian. This Sinnis was put to death by Theseus in the same manner that he had exercised his cruelty upon others; as Plutarch informs us in the life of that hero.

1o A town-bull, &c.] Mr.Theobald recommends the following transposition in this passage: A town-bull

Is a mere stoick to this fellow; and

A Spanish jennet, a grave philosopher;

A most virtuous gentleman.

But this is not only unnecessary, but would hurt the sense, and rob us of the Poets' meaning, which evidently is, A town-bull, compared to Clodio, is a stoick, a very philosopher, devoid of sensuality; and a Spanish jennet is virtuous.'

stomach!

That hath whipt off the heads of a thousand
That he should glean the harvest, sticks in my
[saddle,
This rogue, that breaks young wenches to the
And teaches them to stumble ever after;
That he should have her! For my brother,
now,"
[thought on,
That is a handsome young fellow, and well
And will deal tenderly in the business:
Or for myself, that have a reputation,
And have studied the conclusions of these
causes,
[old Sir,
And know the perfect manage-I'll tell you,
(If I should call you 'wise Sir,' I should

bely you)

This thing you study to betray your child to,
This maiden-monger, when you have done
your best,
[honour,

And think you have fix'd her in the point of
Who do you think you have tied her to? A
surgeon!

I must confess, an excellent dissecter;
One that has cut up more young tender lamb-
pies-
[compulsion,

Char. What I spake, gentlemen, was mere
No father's free-will; nor did I touch your

And, lay his horns by, a handsomer bedfel-
A cooler, o' my conscience.

Arn. Pray let me ask you;

And, my

dear mistress, be not angry with me
For what I shall propound. I am confident
No promise, nor no power, can force your love,
I mean in way of marriage, never stir you;
Nor, to forget my faith, no state can win you.
But, for this Custom, which this wretched
country
[fied;

Hath wrought into a law, and must be satis-
Where all the pleas of honour are but laugh'd
And modesty regarded as a may-game; [at,
What shall be here consider'd? Power we

* That he should have her' fore my brother now,

That is a handsome young fellow; and well thought on,
And will deal tenderly in the business?

Or 'fore myself, that have a reputation,

Have studied the conclusions, &c.] This is Mr. Theobald's reading, upon which he says, • This passage, till reformed in the pointing, and the change of two monosyllables, as I ⚫ have regulated the text, I think, I may venture to pronounce was stark nonsense.'

These regulations (both in punctuation and change of words) injure the Poets, disgrace the annotator, and mislead the reader -Rutilio is angry such a man as Clodio should have the privilege here mentioned: Indeed, were it my brother now, says he, or myself, that know how to conduct ourselves-it might be allowable and proper.' Thus understood, which it certainly ought to be, this speech contains much humour, and is finely depictive of Rutilio's whimsical character.

or strain your loves With any base or

hir'd persuasions.] Mr. Sympson saw with me, that the word here Theobald.

should be stain. This is another of the multitudinous arbitrary and mischievous alterations, which the Editors of 1750 are continually obtruding on us. How bad Charino stained their loves? Had he hinted, that they entertained a shameful passion, or sought a faulty connexion? No such thing. His meaning is clearly and beautifully expressed to be, What I spake was from compulsion : I did not mean, with any persuasions I was hired to, to thwart you, torture, or torment you. Shakespeare has the same idea in Romeo and Juliet, expressed in a manner not dissimilar a you pull our heart-strings thus?'

Why do