Crafts and Craftsmen of the Middle East

Fashioning the Individual in the Muslim

Mediterranean Randi Deguilhem download

https://ebookultra.com/download/crafts-and-craftsmen-of-the-
middle-east-fashioning-the-individual-in-the-muslim-
mediterranean-randi-deguilhem/

Explore and download more ebooks or textbooks

at ebookultra.com
 We believe these products will be a great fit for you. Click
the link to download now, or visit ebookultra.com
to discover even more!

The British Army 1939 45 2 Middle East Mediterranean First

Edition Martin Brayley

https://ebookultra.com/download/the-british-army-1939-45-2-middle-
east-mediterranean-first-edition-martin-brayley/

Race and Slavery in the Middle East Histories of Trans

Saharan Africans in 19th Century Egypt Sudan and the
Ottoman Mediterranean 1st Edition Terence Walz
https://ebookultra.com/download/race-and-slavery-in-the-middle-east-
histories-of-trans-saharan-africans-in-19th-century-egypt-sudan-and-
the-ottoman-mediterranean-1st-edition-terence-walz/

100 Years of the Middle East The Struggle for the Post
Sykes Picot Middle East Adnan Khan

https://ebookultra.com/download/100-years-of-the-middle-east-the-
struggle-for-the-post-sykes-picot-middle-east-adnan-khan/

Nuclear Logics Contrasting Paths in East Asia and the

Middle East Etel Solingen

https://ebookultra.com/download/nuclear-logics-contrasting-paths-in-
east-asia-and-the-middle-east-etel-solingen/
Inside the Middle East Dilip Hiro

https://ebookultra.com/download/inside-the-middle-east-dilip-hiro/

Plant ecology in the Middle East 1st Edition Hegazy

https://ebookultra.com/download/plant-ecology-in-the-middle-east-1st-
edition-hegazy/

The Deluge A Personal View of the End of Empire in the

Middle East Kennedy Trevaskis

https://ebookultra.com/download/the-deluge-a-personal-view-of-the-end-
of-empire-in-the-middle-east-kennedy-trevaskis/

Untold Histories of the Middle East Recovering Voices from

the 19th and 20th Centuries SOAS Routledge Studies on the
Middle East 1st Edition Amy Singer
https://ebookultra.com/download/untold-histories-of-the-middle-east-
recovering-voices-from-the-19th-and-20th-centuries-soas-routledge-
studies-on-the-middle-east-1st-edition-amy-singer/

Arab awakening and Islamic revival the politics of ideas

in the Middle East Martin Seth Kramer

https://ebookultra.com/download/arab-awakening-and-islamic-revival-
the-politics-of-ideas-in-the-middle-east-martin-seth-kramer/
Crafts and Craftsmen of the Middle East Fashioning the
Individual in the Muslim Mediterranean Randi
Deguilhem Digital Instant Download
Author(s): Randi Deguilhem, Suraiya Faroqhi
ISBN(s): 9781860647000, 1860647006
Edition: illustrated edition
File Details: PDF, 10.87 MB
Year: 2005
Language: english
Crafts and Craftsmen of the Middle East
 The Islamic Mediterranean
Programme Chair Robert Ilbert
Series Editor Randi Deguilhem

Published and forthcoming

1. Writing the Feminine: Women in Arab Sources

Edited by Manuela Marín and Randi Deguilhem

2. Money, Land and Trade: An Economic History of the

Muslim Mediterranean
Edited by Nelly Hanna

3. Outside In: On the Margins of the Modern Middle East

Edited by Eugene Rogan

4. Crafts and Craftsmen of the Middle East: Fashioning the

Individual in the Muslim Mediterranean
Edited by Suraiya Faroqhi and Randi Deguilhem

5. Constituting Modernity: Private Property in the East

and West
Edited by Huri İslamoğlu

6. Standing Trial: Law and Person in the Modern Middle East

Edited by Baudouin Dupret

7. Subversity and the Individual in Arab Literature

Edited by Robin Ostle

8. Shattering Tradition: Custom, Law and the Individual

in the Muslim Mediterranean
Edited by Walter Dostal and Wolfgang Kraus
 CRAFTS AND
CRAFTSMEN OF THE
MIDDLE EAST

Fashioning the Individual in the

Muslim Mediterranean

Edited by

Suraiya Faroqhi and

Randi Deguilhem
Published in 2005 by I.B.Tauris & Co Ltd
6 Salem Road, London W2 4BU
175 Fifth Avenue, New York NY 10010
www.ibtauris.com
in association with The European Science Foundation, Strasbourg, France

In the United States and Canada distributed by Palgrave Macmillan, a division of

St. Martin’s Press, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York NY 10010

Copyright © 2005 I.B.Tauris and Co Ltd, European Science Foundation and

Suraiya Faroqhi and Randi Deguilhem

All rights reserved. Except for brief quotations in a review, this book, or any part
thereof, may not be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or
transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying,
recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the publisher.

ISBN 1 86064 700 6

EAN 978 1 86064 700 0

A full CIP record for this book is available from the British Library
A full CIP record for this book is available from the Library of Congress
Library of Congress catalog card: available

Typeset in Baskerville by Dexter Haven Associates Ltd, London

Printed and bound in Great Britain by MPG Books Ltd, Bodmin
Contents

Preface and Acknowledgements vii

Transcriptions xi

Part One: Principles of Guilds

1 Understanding Ottoman Guilds 3

Suraiya Faroqhi

2 Guild Parades in Ottoman Literature:

The Sûrnâme of 1582 41
Gisela Procházka-Eisl

3 Guild Membership in Seventeenth Century

Istanbul: Fluidity in Organisation 55
Eunjeong Yi

4 Ottoman Craftsmen: Problematic and

Sources with Special Emphasis on the
Eighteenth Century 84
Suraiya Faroqhi

Part Two: Social Life, Politics and Guilds

5 Çuha for the Janissaries – Velençe for the Poor:

Competition for Raw Material and Workforce
between Salonica and Veria, 1600–1650 121
Eleni Gara

6 The Millers and Bakers of Istanbul (1750–1840) 153

Salih Aynural

7 A Pound of Flesh: The Meat Trade and Social

Struggle in Jewish Istanbul, 1700–1923 195
Minna Rozen
 8 Organising Labour: Professional Classifications
in Late Eighteenth to Early Nineteenth Century
Cairo 235
Pascale Ghazaleh

9 Shared Space or Contested Space: Religious

Mixity, Infrastructural Hierarchy and the
Builders’ Guild in Mid-Nineteenth Century
Damascus 261
Randi Deguilhem

Part Three: The End of Guilds

10 Relations of Production and Social

Conditions among Coppersmiths
in Contemporary Cairo 285
Claudia Kickinger

11 Histories and Economies of a Small

Anatolian Town: Safranbolu and its
Leather Handicrafts 308
Heidemarie Doğanalp-Votzi

12 The End of Guilds in Egypt: Restructuring

Textiles in the Long Nineteenth Century 338
John Chalcraft

Index 369
Preface and Acknowledgements
Suraiya Faroqhi, Randi Deguilhem

The people who work and the forms of organisation that they
devise in so doing are the focus of this volume, which strives to
present a balanced view of the long-lived and multiform society
that supported the Ottoman Empire. In order to do this, it is
necessary to take a hard look at the manner in which the inhab-
itants of Istanbul, Cairo and Damascus, as well as those in the
smaller provincial towns, managed to produce a variety of goods,
market the products of their labour and keep body and soul
together.
In the Ottoman world, but even in the first decades of Turkish
Republican history, the ‘typical’ urban worker was not as yet
employed in a factory, but either operated as an independent
artisan or turned over his/her product to a merchant for mar-
keting. Throughout the nineteenth century, as Donald Quataert
has shown us, Ottoman craftspeople managed to adapt, albeit
often at the price of declining real wages, to a market into which
imported goods entered in increasing quantities.1 A degree of
adaptation was possible within the established craft organisations.
Quataert’s observations concerning the flexibility of Ottoman
artisans have encouraged us historians to revise our view of their
guilds, which an earlier generation had seen mainly as an im-
pediment to the maximisation of production and as a generator
of more or less insignificant but very time-wasting disputes.
Obviously, adaptation to mid-nineteenth century world markets
did not immediately lead to the demise of older crafts and thus to
the dissolution of the relevant associations. Yet, as John Chalcraft’s
study in the present volume has shown, putting-out systems and
the removal of many activities from the traditional workshops in
the urban core did make these guilds increasingly irrelevant to
producers and, as a result, many of them disappeared.
In a sense, the dissolution of Ottoman guilds forms the centre-
piece of our volume. Several studies, (in chronological order
of the cases discussed, Procházka-Eisl, Yi, Gara, Rozen, Faroqhi,
Aynural and Deguilhem) concentrate on the functioning and
relative fluidity of craft guilds in the sixteenth to the nineteenth

vii
 CRAFTS AND CRAFTSMEN OF THE MIDDLE EAST

centuries but also on their increasing elaboration in the 1700s

and 1800s. Here, the editors have tried to strike a balance between
studies focusing on the initiatives of the guildsmen themselves
(Yi, Rozen) and others in which the role of the Ottoman state
has been highlighted (Procházka-Eisl, Gara, Aynural). On the
other side of the ‘great divide’ represented by Chalcraft’s contri-
bution stand two monographs of relatively ‘traditional’ crafts as
they could be observed several decades after the dissolution of
the guilds (Doğanalp-Votzi, Kickinger). If there are many more
studies on Ottoman artisans than on their post-Ottoman suc-
cessors, this reflects the state of our field: up until now craftsmen
both independent and enmeshed within putting-out systems have
interested historians much more than sociologists or ethnologists.
In brief, the present collection can be read as the story of
craft producers as they functioned in the Ottoman context and
then as they negotiated first the shoals of the late eighteenth
century economic crisis and then the nineteenth century world
market, an early instance of globalisation. As to the grand-
children of these craft producers, they coped as best they could
with the processes of limited and often state-sponsored industrial-
isation both in Turkey and in Egypt.

Acknowledgements

The genesis of this book began with a workshop organised by

Suraiya Faroqhi which took place in Munich in October 1997.
We would like to thank Robert Ilbert for having established the
Individual and Society in the Mediterranean Muslim World (ISMM)
research programme within the framework of the Humanities
Section of the European Science Foundation (ESF) under whose
aegis the Munich workshop was organised. We would also like
to thank Janie Freshwater, Carole Mabrouk and Madelise
Blumenroeder for their invaluable administrative assistance,
as well as Gérard Darmon, Marianne Yagoubi and Elizabeth
Vestergaard, who directed the Humanities Section of the ESF
throughout the duration of the ISSM programme. We would also
like to sincerely thank Françoise Gillespie for having drawn up
the index for this volume and for most of the preceding ones in
The Islamic Mediterranean series of I.B.Tauris.

viii
 PREFACE AND ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

Parts of some studies published here (Eleni Gara, Randi

Deguilhem) were first presented in a workshop organised by
Randi Deguilhem at AFEMAM (Association Française d’Etudes
sur le Monde Arabe et Musulman) in Aix-en-Provence in July 1996,
others (Suraiya Faroqhi, Claudia Kickinger, Gisela Procházka-
Eisl) were presented at the Munich workshop and the general
meeting in Istanbul in July 1998.
Suraiya Faroqhi is grateful to the Wissenschaftskolleg zu
Berlin, where much of the work that went into the production
of the present volume was done under optimum conditions;
special thanks to Mitchell Cohen for his editorial assistance
beyond the call of duty. Randi Deguilhem expresses her grati-
tude to the Institut de Recherches et d’Etudes sur le Monde
Arabe et Musulman (IREMAM) and the Maison Méditerranéenne
des Sciences de l’Homme, Aix-en-Provence, where significant
portions of her time were devoted not only to the preparation of
the present volume and the others in The Islamic Mediterranean
series but also to the ISMM programme as a whole.

Notes

1 Donald Quataert, Ottoman Manufacturing in the Age of the Industrial

Revolution, Cambridge, Cambridge University Press, 1993.

ix
Transcriptions

Those who have worked with primary sources in different

languages know the difficulties of choosing a coherent translit-
eration system, especially in the case of a collective work. Moreover,
since the present volume is not only intended for specialists of
the Ottoman Empire and its successor states, but also for scholars
and more general readers interested in the lives of artisans in
the modern and contemporary Mediterranean world, we have
simplified the process by using modern Turkish transliteration
for terms and proper names given in Ottoman Turkish while the
transliteration of Arabic terms and proper names is done using
just a representation of the ayn and hamza and the Western
keyboard; Turkish accenting is used for Turkish. As to the details
the two editors of this volume have left individual authors to
make their own choices and there are thus slight variations
between texts.

xi
 Part One
PRINCIPLES OF GUILDS
Random documents with unrelated
content Scribd suggests to you:
draw occasions of mirth from those images which the religion of our
country tells us we ought to tremble at with horror.
But her Most Excellent Majesty has taken the stage into her
consideration;[41] and we may hope, by her gracious influence on
the Muses, wit will recover from its apostasy; and that, by being
encouraged in the interests of virtue, it will strip vice of the gay habit
in which it has too long appeared, and clothe it in its native dress of
shame, contempt, and dishonour.

PROLOGUE.
All the commanding powers that awe mankind
Are in a trembling poet's audience joined,
Where such bright galaxies of beauty sit,
And at their feet assembled men of wit:
Our author, therefore, owns his deep despair
To entertain the learned or the fair;
Yet hopes that both will so much be his friends,
To pardon what he does, for what he intends;
He aims to make the coming action move
On the dread laws of friendship and of love;
Sure then he'll find but very few severe,
Since there's of both so many objects here.
He offers no gross vices to your sight,
Those too much horror raise for just delight;
And to detain the attentive knowing ear,
Pleasure must still have something that's severe.[42]
If then you find our author treads the stage
With just regard to a reforming age;
He hopes, he humbly hopes, you'll think there's due
Mercy to him, for justice done to you.
 DRAMATIS PERSONÆ.
Old Bookwit.
Young Bookwit, the "Lying Lover."
Lovemore, in love with Penelope.
Frederick, Friend to Lovemore.
Latine, Friend to Young Bookwit.
Storm, a Highwayman.
Charcoal, an Alchemist and Coiner.
Simon, Servant to Penelope.

Penelope.
Victoria, Friend to Penelope.
Betty, Victoria's Woman.
Lettice, Penelope's Woman.

Constables, Watch, Turnkey, Cookmaid, and several Gaol-birds.

SCENE—London.

THE LYING LOVER: OR, THE LADIES'

FRIENDSHIP.

ACT THE FIRST.

 SCENE I.—St. James's Park.

Enter Young Bookwit and Latine.

Latine. But have you utterly left Oxford?

Y. Book. For ever, sir, for ever; my father has given me leave to come
to town, and I don't question but will let my return be in my own
choice. But Jack, you know we were talking in Maudlen Walks last
week of the necessity, in intrigues, of a faithful, yet a prating
servant. We agreed, therefore, to cast lots who should be the other's
footman for the present expedition. Fortune, that's always blind,
gave me the superiority.
Lat. She shall be called no more so, for that one action. And I am,
sir, in a literal sense, your very humble servant.
Y. Book. Begin, then, the duty of a useful valet, and flatter me
egregiously. Has the fellow fitted me? How is my manner? my mien?
Do I move freely? Have I kicked off the trammels of a gown? or does
not the tail on't seem still tucked under my arm, where my hat is,
with a pert jerk forward, and little hitch in my gait like a scholastic
beau? This wig, I fear, looks like a cap.
Lat. No, faith, it looks like a cap and gown too; though at the same
time you look as if you ne'er had worn either.
Y. Book. But my sword, does it hang careless? Do I look bold,
negligent, and erect? that is, do I look as if I could kill a man
without being out of humour? I horridly mistrust myself. Am I
military enough in my air? I fancy people see I understand Greek.
Don't I pore a little in my visage? Han't I a down bookish lour, a wise
sadness? I don't look gay enough and unthinking, I fancy.
Lat. I protest you wrong yourself. You look very brisk and very
ignorant.
Y. Book. O fie! I am afraid you flatter me.
Lat. I don't indeed; I'll be hanged if my tutor would know either of
us. But, good master, to what use do you design to put the noble
arts and sciences he taught us? The conduct of our lives, the
government of our passions, were his daily talk to us, good man!
Y. Book. Good man! Why I'll obey his precepts, but abridge 'em. For
as he used to advise me, I'll contract my thoughts, as I'll tell you,
Jack:—for the passions, I'll turn 'em all into that one dear passion,
love; and when that's the only torture of my heart, I'll give that
tortured heart quite away; deny there's any such thing as pain, and
turn stoic a shorter way than e'er thy tutor taught thee. This is the
new philosophy, you rogue you.
Lat. But you would not in earnest be thought wholly illiterate?
Y. Book. No; for as when I walk, I'd have you know by my motion I
can dance; so when I speak, I'd have you see I read: yet would
ordinarily neither cut capers nor talk sentences. But you prate as if I
came to town to get an employment. No; hang business, hang care;
let it live and prosper among the men; I'll ne'er go near the solemn
ugly things again. I'll keep company with none but ladies—bright
ladies. O London! London! O woman! woman! I am come where
thou livest, where thou shinest.
Lat. Hey day! why, were there no women in Oxford?
Y. Book. No, no; why, do you think a bed-maker's a woman?
Lat. Yes, and thought you knew it.
Y. Book. No, no, 'tis no such thing. As he that is not honest or brave
is no man; so she that is not witty or fair is no woman. No, no, Jack,
to come up to that high name and object of desire, she must be gay
and chaste, she must at once attract, and banish you. I don't know
how to express myself, but a woman, methinks, is a being between
us and angels. She has something in her that at the same time gives
awe and invitation; and I swear to you I was never out in't yet, but I
always judged of men as I observed they judged of women. There's
nothing shows a man so much as the object of his affections.—But
what do you stare at so considerately?
Lat. Faith, sir, I am wondering at you—how 'tis possible you could be
so jaunty a town-spark in a moment, and have so easy a behaviour.
I look, methinks, to you, as if I were really your footman.
Y. Book. Why, if you're serious in what you say, I owe it wholly to the
indulgence of an excellent father, in whose company I was always
free and unconstrained. But what's this to ladies, Jack, to ladies? I
was going to tell you I had studied 'em, and know how to make my
approaches to 'em by contemplating their frame, their inmost
temper. I don't ground my hopes on the scandalous tales and
opinions your wild fellows have of 'em—fellows that are but mere
bodies, machines—which at best can but move gracefully. No; I draw
my pretences from philosophy—from nature.
Lat. You'll give us by-and-by a lecture over your mistress: you can
dissect her.
Y. Book. That I can, indeed, and have so accurately observed on
woman, that I can know her mind by her eye as well as her doctor
shall her health by her pulse; I can read approbation through a
glance of disdain; can see when the soul is divided by a sparkling
tear that twinkles and betrays the heart. A sparkling tear's the dress
and livery of love—of love made up of hope and fear, of joy and
grief.
Lat.[43] But what have the wars to do with all this? Why must you
needs commence soldier all of a sudden?
Y. Book. Were't not a taking compliment with my college face and
phrase to accost a lady:—"Madam, I bring your ladyship a learned
heart, one newly come from the University. If you want definitions,
axioms, and arguments, I am an able schoolman. I've read Aristotle
twice over, compared his jarring commentators too, examined all the
famous peripatetics, know where the Scotists and the Nominals
differ:"—this, certainly, must needs enchant a lady.
Lat. This is too much on th' other side.
Y. Book. The name of soldier bids you better welcome. 'Tis valour
and feats done in the field a man should be cried up for; nor is't so
hard to achieve.
Lat. The fame of it, you mean?
Y. Book. Yes; and that will serve. 'Tis but looking big, bragging with
an easy grace, and confidently mustering up an hundred hard names
they understand not: Thunder out Villeroy, Catinat, and Boufflers;
speak of strange towns and castles, whose barbarous names, the
harsher they're to the ear, the rarer and more taking; still running
over lines, trenches, outworks, counterscarps, and forts, citadels,
mines, countermines, pickeering, pioneers, sentinels, patrols, and
others, without sense or order; that matters not, the women are
amazed, they admire to hear you rap 'em out so readily; and many a
one that went no farther for it, retailing handsomely some warlike
terms, passes for a brave fellow. Don't stand gaping, but live and
learn, my lad. I can tell thee ten thousand arts to make thee known
and valued in these regions of wit and gallantry—the park, the
playhouse.
Lat. Now you put me in mind where we are. What have we to do
here thus early, now there's no company?
Y. Book. Oh! sir, I have put on so much of the soldier with my red
coat, that I came here to observe the ground I am to engage upon.
Here must I act, I know, some lover's part, and therefore came to
view this pleasant walk. I privately rambled to town last November.
Here, ay here, I stood and gazed at high Mall, till I forgot it was
winter, so many pretty shes marched by me. Oh! to see the dear
things trip, trip along, and breathe so short, nipt with the season! I
saw the very air not without force leave their dear lips. Oh! they
were intolerably handsome.
Lat. You'll see, perhaps, such to-day; but how to come at 'em?
Y. Book. Ay, there's it, how to come at 'em.
Lat.[44] Are you generous?
Y. Book. I think I am no niggard.
Lat. You must entertain them high, and bribe all about them. They
talk of Ovid and his Art of Loving; be liberal, and you outdo his
precepts. The art of love, sir, is the art of giving. Be free to women,
they'll be free to you. Not every open-handed fellow hits it neither.
Some give by lapfulls, and yet ne'er oblige. The manner, you know,
of doing a thing is more than the thing itself. Some drop a jewel,
which had been refused if bluntly offered.
Y. Book. Some lose at play what they design a present.
Lat. Right; the skill is to be generous, and seem not to know it of
yourself, 'tis done with so much ease; but a liberal blockhead
presents his mistress as he'd give an alms.
Y. Book. Leaving such blockheads to their deserved ill-fortune, tell
me if thou know'st these ladies?
Lat. No, not I, sir; they are above an academic converse many
degrees. I've seen ten thousand verses writ in the University on
wenches not fit to be either of their handmaids. I never spoke to
such a fine thing as either in my whole life—I'm downright asleep o'
sudden. I must fall back, and glad it is my place to do so; yet I can
get you intelligence perhaps. I'll to the footman.
Y. Book. Do you think he'll tell?
Lat. He would not to you, perhaps, but to a brother footman. Do but
listen at the entrance of the Mall at noon, and you'll have all the
ladies' characters in town among their lackeys. You know all fame
begins from our domestics.
Y. Book. That was a wise man's observation. Follow him, and know
what you can. [Exit Latine.

Enter Penelope, Victoria, Simon, and Lettice.

Pen. A walk round would be too much for us; we'll keep the Mall.—
But to our talk: I must confess I have terrors when I think of
marrying Lovemore. He is, indeed, a man of an honest character. He
has my good opinion, but love does not always follow that. He is so
wise a fellow, always so precisely in the right, so observing and so
jealous; he's blameless indeed, but not to be commended. What
good he has, has no grace in it; he's one of those who's never highly
moved, except to anger. Give me a man that has agreeable faults
rather than offensive virtues.
Vict. Offensive virtues, madam?
Pen. Yes, I don't know how—there's a sort of virtue, or prudence, or
what you'll call it, that we can but just approve. That does not win
us. Lovemore wants that fire, that conversation-spirit I would have.
They say he's learned as well as discreet, but I'm no judge of that.
I'm sure he's no woman's scholar; his wisdom he should turn into
wit, and his learning into poetry or humour.
Vict. Well, I'm not so much of your mind; I like a sober passion.
Pen. A sober passion! you took me up just now when I said an
offensive virtue.—Bless me! [Stumbling almost to a fall.
Y. Book.[45] [Catching her.] How much am I indebted to an accident,
that favours me with an occasion of this small service! for 'tis to me
an happiness beyond expression thus to kiss your hand.
Pen. The occasion, methinks, is not so obliging, nor the happiness
you mention worth that name, sir.
Y. Book. 'Tis true, madam, I owe it all to fortune; neither your
kindness nor my industry had any share in't. Thus am I still as
wretched as I was, for this happiness I so much prize had doubtless
been refused my want of merit.
Pen. It has very soon, you see, lost what you valued in it; but I find
you and I, sir, have a different sense; for, in my opinion, we enjoy
with most pleasure what we attain with least merit. Merit is a claim,
and may pretend justly to favour; when without it what's conferred
is more unexpected, and therefore more pleasing.
Y. Book. You talk very well, madam, of an happiness you can't
possibly be acquainted with, the enjoying without desert. But indeed
you have done me a very singular good office, in letting me know
myself very much qualified for felicity.
Vict. I swear he's a very pretty fellow, and how readily the thing
talks! I begin to pity Lovemore, but I begin to hate Penelope. How
he looks! he looks at her!
Y. Book.[46] But judge, madam, what the condition of a passionate
man must be, that can approach the hand only of her he dies for,
when her heart is inaccessible.
Pen. 'Tis very well the heart lies not so easily to be seized as the
hand—I find——Pray, sir—I don't know what there is in this very odd
fellow: I'm not angry, though he's downright rude—but I must——
Y. Book. But your heart, madam, your heart—[Pressingly.
Pen. You seemed, sir, I must confess, to have shown a ready civility
when I'd like to fall just now, for which I could not but thank you,
and permit you to say what you pleased on that occasion—"But your
heart, madam!" 'tis a sure sign, sir, you know not me; or, if you are
what indeed you seem—a gentleman—sure you forget yourself, or
rather you talk, by memory, a form or cant which you mistake for
something that's gallant.
Y. Book. Madam, I very humbly beg your pardon, if I pressed too far
and too abruptly. I forgot, indeed, that I broke through decencies,
and that though you have been long a familiar to me, I am a
stranger to you.
Pen. Pray, familiar stranger, what can you mean? I never saw you
before this instant, nor you me, I believe.
Y. Book.[47] Perhaps not, that you know of, madam, for your
humility, it seems, makes you so little sensible of your own
perfection, that you overlook your conquest; nor have you e'er
observed me, though I hover day and night about your lodging,
haunt you from place to place, at balls, in the park, at church. I gave
you all the serenades you've had, yet never till this minute could I
find you, and this minute an unfortunate one—But this is always my
luck when I'm out of the field.
Vict. You've travelled then, and seen the wars, sir?
Y. Book. I—madam—I—all that I know of the matter is, that Louis
the Fourteenth mortally hates me. They talk of French gold—what
heaps have I refused! Yet to be generous even to an enemy, I must
allow that Prince has reason for his rancour to me. There has not
been a skirmish, siege, or battle since I bore arms, I made not one
in; no, nor the least advantage got of the enemy, but I had my
share, though perhaps not all my share of the glory. You've seen my
name, though you don't know it, often in the Gazette.
Pen. I never read news.

Enter Latine.

Lat. What tale's he telling now, tro'?

Y. Book. You've never heard, I suppose, of such names as
Ruremonde, Kaiserswerth, and Liege? nor read of an English
gentleman left dead by his precipitancy upon a parapet at Venloo? I
was thought so indeed, when the first account came away. Every
man has his failings; rashness is my fault.
Lat. Don't you remember a certain place called Oxford among your
towns, sir?
Y. Book. Pshaw, away—Oh! oh!—I beg your pardon, ladies, this
fellow knows I was shot in my left arm, and cannot bear the least
touch, yet will still be rushing on me.
Lat. He has a lie, I think, in every joint. [Aside.
Pen. Do you bear any commission, sir?
Y. Book. There's an intimate of mine, a general officer, who has often
said, Tom, if thou would'st but stick to any one application, thou
might'st be anything. 'Tis my misfortune, madam, to have a mind
too extensive. I began last summer's campaign with the renowned
Prince Eugene, but was forced to fly into Holland for a duel with that
rough Captain of the Hussars, Paul Diack. They talk of a regiment for
me, but those things—besides, it will oblige me to attend it, and
then I can't follow honour where'er she's busiest, but must be
confined to one nation; when indeed 'tis rather my way of serving
with such of our allies as most want me.
Pen. But I see you soldiers never enjoy such a thing as rest: You but
come home in winter to turn your valour on the ladies—'tis but just a
change of your warfare.
Y. Book. I had immediately returned to Holland, but your beauties at
my arrival here disarmed me, madam, made me a man of peace, or
raised a civil war within me rather. You took me prisoner at first
sight, and to your charms I yielded up an heart, till then
unconquered. Martial delights (once best and dearest to me)
vanished before you in a moment, and all my thoughts grew bent to
please and serve you.
Lett. Lovemore's in the walk, madam; he'll be in a fit.
Y. Book. Rob me o' the sudden thus of all my happiness! Yet ere you
quite forsake me, authorise my passion, license my innocent flames,
and give me leave to love such charming sweetness.
Pen. He that will love, and knows what 'tis to love, will ask no leave
of any but himself. [Exeunt Ladies, etc.
Y. Book. Follow 'em, Jack.
Lat. I know as much of 'em already as needs: the footman was in his
talking vein. The handsomer of the two, says he, I serve, and she
lives in the Garden.
Y Book. What Garden?
Lat. Covent Garden; the other lies there too. I did not stay to ask her
name, but I shall meet him again; I took particular notice of the
livery.
Y. Book. Ne'er trouble thyself to know which is which, my heart and
my good genius tell me, 'tis she, that pretty she I talked to.
Lat. If, with respect to your worship's opinion, I might presume to be
of a contrary one, I should think the other the handsomer now.
Y. Book. What, the dumb thing,[48] the picture?—No, love is the
union of minds, and she that engages mine must be very well able
to express her own. But I suppose some scolding landlady has made
you thus enamoured with silence. But here are two of the dearest of
my old comrades—they seem amazed at something by their action.

Enter Lovemore and Frederick.

Fred.[49] How! a collation on the water, and music too?

Love. Yes, music and a collation.
Fred. Last night?
Love. Last night too.
Fred. An handsome treat?
Love. A very noble one.
Fred, Who gave it?
Love. That I'm yet to learn.
Y. Book. How happy am I to meet you here!
Love. When I embrace you thus, no happiness can equal mine.
[Saluting.
Y. Book. I thrust myself intrudingly upon you; but you'll pardon a
man o'erjoyed to see you.
Love. Where you're always welcome you never can intrude.
Y. Book. What were you talking of?
Love. Of an entertainment.
Y. Book. Given by some lover?
Love. As we suppose.
Y. Book. That circumstance deserves my curiosity; pray go on, and
let me share the story.
Love. Some ladies had the fiddles last night.
Y. Book. Upon the water, too, methought you said?
Love. Yes, 'twas upon the water.
Y. Book. Water often feeds the flame.
Love. Sometimes.
Y. Book. And by night too?
Love. Yes, last night.
Y. Book. He chose his time well—The lady is handsome?
Love. In most men's eyes she is.
Y. Book. And the music?
Love. Good, as we hear.
Y. Book. Some banquet followed?
Love. A sumptuous one, they say.
Y. Book. And neither of you all this while know who gave this treat?
ha! ha!
Love. D'ye laugh at it?
Y. Book. How can I choose, to see you thus admire a slight
divertisement I gave myself?
Love. You?
Y. Book. Even I!
Love. Why, have you got a mistress here already?
Y. Book. I should be sorry else. I've been in town this month or
more, though for some reasons I appear but little yet by day. I' the
dark o' the evening I peep out, and incognito make some visits.
Thus had I spent my time but ill, were not—
Lat. [To Y. Book.] Do you know what you say, sir? Don't lay it on so
thick.
Y. Book. [To Lat.] Nay, you must be sure to take care to be in the
way as soon as they land, to shew upstairs—I beg pardon, I was
giving my fellow some directions about receiving some women of
quality that sup with me to-night incog——but you're my dearest
friends, and shall hear all.
Fred. [To Love.] How luckily your rival discovers himself!
Y. Book. I took five barges, and the fairest kept for my company; the
other four I filled with music of all sorts, and of all sorts the best; in
the first were fiddles, in the next theorbo, lutes, and voices.
Flutes and such pastoral instruments i' th' third.
Loud music from the fourth did pierce the air.
Each concert vied by turns,
Which with most melody should charm our ears.
The fifth, the largest of 'em all, was neatly hung,
Not with dull tapestry, but with green boughs,
Curiously interlaced to let in air,
And every branch with jessamines, and orange posies decked;
In this the feast was kept.
Hither, with five other ladies, I led her whose beauty alone governs
my destiny. Supper was served up straight; I will not trouble you
with our bill of fare, what dishes were best liked, what sauces most
recommended; 'tis enough I tell you this delicious feast was of six
courses, twelve dishes to a course.
Lat. That's indeed enough of all conscience. [Aside.
Love. Oh, the torture of jealousy! [Aside]—But, sir, how seemed the
lady to receive this entertainment? We must know that.
Y. Book. Oh! that was the height on't. She, I warrant you, was quite
negligent of all this matter. You know their way, they must not seem
to like—no, I warrant it would not so much as smile to make the
fellow vain, and believe he had power to move delight in her—ha,
ha!
Love. But how then?
Y. Book. Why you must know my humour grew poetic. I pulled off
my sword-knot, and with that bound up a coronet of ivy, laurel, and
flowers; with that round my temples, and a plate of richest fruits in
my hand, on one knee I presented her with it as a cornucopia, an
offering from her humble swain of all his harvest—to her the Ceres
of our genial feast and rural mirth. She smiled; the ladies clapped
their hands, and all our music struck sympathetic rapture at my
happiness; while gentle winds, the river, air, and shore echoed the
harmony in notes more soft than they received it. Methought all
nature seemed to die for love like me. To all my heart and every
pulse beat time. Oh, the pleasures of successful love! ha, Lovemore!
ha! What, hast thou got a good office lately? you're afraid I should
make some request. Prithee ben't so shy, I have nothing to ask but
of my mistress—What's the matter?
Love. I only attend, sir, I only attend—
Y. Book. Then I'll go on. As soon[50] as we had supped, the
fireworks played. Squibs of all sorts were darted through the skies,
whose spreading fires made a new day. A flaming deluge seemed to
fall from Heaven, and with such violence attacked the waves, you
would have thought the fiery element had left his sphere, to ruin his
moist enemy. Their contest done, we landed, danced till day, which
hasty Sol disturbed us with too soon. Had he taken our advice, or
feared my anger, he might in Thetis's lap have slept as long as at
Alcmena's labour he's reported. But steering not as we would have
prescribed, he put a period to our envied mirth.
Love. Trust me, you tell us wonders, and with a grace as rare as the
feast itself, which all our summer's mirth can't equal.
Y. Book. My mistress took me o' the sudden; I had not a day's
warning.
Love. The treat was costly though, and finely ordered.
Y. Book. I was forced to take up with this trifle. He that wants time
can't do as he would.
Love. Farewell, we shall meet again at more leisure.
Y. Book. Number me among your creatures.
Love. Oh jealousy! Thou rack, jealousy!
Fred. [To Love.] What reason have you to feel it? the circumstances
of the feast nothing agree.
Love. [To Fred.] In time and place they do; the rest is nothing.
[Exeunt Fred. and Love.
Lat.[51] May I speak now, sir, without offence?
Y. Book. 'Tis in your choice now to speak or not, but before company
you'll spoil all.
Lat. Do you walk abroad and talk in your sleep? or do you use to tell
your dreams for current truth?
Y. Book. Dull brain!
Lat. Why, you beat out mine with your battles, your fireworks, your
music, and your feasts. You've found an excellent way to go to the
wars, and yet keep out of danger. Then you feast your mistresses at
the cheapest rate that ever I knew! Why d'ye make 'em believe you
ha' been here these six weeks?
Y. Book. My passion has the more growth, and I the better ground to
make love.
Lat. You'd make one believe fine things, that would but hearken to
you; but this lady might soon have found you out.
Y. Book. Some acquaintance I have got, however; this is making
love, scholar, and at the best rate too.
Lat. To speak truth, I'm hardly come to myself yet; your great
supper lies on my stomach still. I defy Pontack[52] to have prepared
a better o' the sudden. Your enchanted castles, where strangers
found strange tables strangely furnished with strange cates, were
but sixpenny ordinaries to the fifth barge; you were an excellent
man to write romances, for having feasts and battles at command,
your Quixote in a trice would over-run the world; revelling and
skirmishing cost you nothing; then you vary your scene with so
much ease, and shift from court to camp with such facility—
Y. Book. I love thus to outvie a newsmonger; and as soon as I
perceive a fellow thinks his story will surprise, I choke him with a
stranger, and stop his mouth with an extempore wonder. Did'st thou
but know what a pleasure 'tis to cram their own news down their
throats again!
Lat. 'Tis fine, but may prove dangerous sport, and may involve us in
a peck of troubles. Prithee, Tom, consider that I am of quality to be
kicked or caned by this l——
Y. Book. Hush, hush, call it not lying; as for my waging war, it is but
just I snatch and steal from fortune that fame which she denies me
opportunity to deserve. My father has cramped me in a college,
while all the world has been in action. Then as to my lying to my
mistress, 'tis but what all the lovers upon earth do. Call it not then
by that coarse name, a lie. 'Tis wit, 'tis fable, allegory, fiction,
hyperbole—or be it what you call it, the world's made up almost of
nothing else. What are all the grave faces you meet in public? mere
silent lies, dark solemn fronts, by which they would disguise vain
empty silly noddles. But after all, to be serious, since I am resolved
honestly to love, I don't care how artfully I obtain the woman I pitch
upon; besides, did you ever know any of them acknowledge they
loved as soon as they loved? No, they'll let a man dwell upon his
knees—whom they languish to receive into their arms. They're no
fair enemy. Therefore 'tis but just that—
We use all arts the fair to undermine,
And learn with gallantry to hide design. [Exeunt.
 ACT THE SECOND.

SCENE I.—Penelope's Lodgings, Covent Garden.

Enter Old Bookwit, Penelope, and Lettice.

Old Book. Mistress Penelope, I have your father's leave to wait upon
you, madam, and talk to you this morning; nay, to talk to you of
marriage.
Pen. To talk to me of marriage, sir?
O. Book. Yes, madam, in behalf of my son, Tom Bookwit.
Pen. Nay, there may perhaps be something said to that. [Aside.
O. Book.[53] I sent for him from Oxford with that design. He came to
town but yesterday; and, if a father can judge, he brings from a
college the mien and air of a court. I love my son entirely, and hope,
madam, you take my thoughts as to you, to be no want of respect to
you.
Pen. 'Twere want of sense, sir, to do that.
O. Book. If I can remember my style to my mistress of old, I'll ease
Tom's way, and raise her expectation of my son. [Aside.]—Madam,
had I my hat, my feather, pantaloons, and jerkin on, as when I
wooed your humble servant's mother, I would deliver you his errand.
I married her just such a young thing as you; her complexion was
charming, but not indeed with all your sweetness.
Pen. Oh! sir!
O. Book. Her neck and bosom were the softest pillows; her shape
was not of that nice sort. Some young women suffer in shapes of
their mother's making, by spare diet, straight lacing, and constant
chiding. But 'twas the work of nature, free, unconstrained, healthy,
and——But her charms had not all that emanation which yours have.
Pen. O fie! fie!
O. Book. Not those thousand thousand graces, that soft army of
loves and zephyrs, millions of airy beings that attend around you,
and appear only to the second sight of lovers.
Pen. O fie! Pray, good sir, you'll leave nothing for your son to say.
O. Book. I did not think I had such a memory. I find the women are
now certainly daughters of the women before 'em: Flattery still does
it. [Aside.]—Tom is my only son, and I extremely desire to have him
settled. I own I think him of much merit.
Pen. He would derogate from his birth were he not much a
gentleman. But to receive a man in the character of a pretender at
first sight——
O. Book. I'll walk him by and by before your window, where your
own eyes shall judge. I think there's nothing above his pretences but
yourself; but when one of so many excellent qualities bestows
herself, it must be condescension. You shall not answer—Farewell,
daughter; we are but too apt to believe what we wish. [Exit Old
Book.
Pen. 'Tis as you said, Lettice, Old Bookwit came to propose his son.
Lett. I overheard the old gentleman talk of it last night. But, madam,
you han't heard the song that was made on you. Oh! 'tis mighty
pretty! The gentleman is dying for you, he says it. Pure, pure verses.
Pen, Whoever writ 'em, he's not the first poet I have made. They
may talk, and say nature makes a poet, but I say love makes a poet.
Don't you see elder brothers, who are by nature born above wit,
shall fall in love, and write verses: nay, and pretty good ones,
considering they can tag 'em to settlements. But let's see.
[Reading.] "To Celia's Spinet.
"Thou soft machine that dost her hand obey,
Tell her my grief in thy harmonious lay."
Poor man!
 "To shun my moan to thee she'll fly;
To her touch be sure reply,
And, if she removes it, die."
The device is just and truly poetical.
"Know thy bliss—"
Ay, ay, there I come in.
"Know thy bliss, with rapture shake,
Tremble o'er all thy numerous make;
Speak in melting sounds my tears,
Speak my joys, my hopes, my fears—"
Which all depend upon me.
"Thus force her, when from me she'd fly,
By her own hand, like me, to die."
Well, certainly nothing touches the heart of woman so much as
poetry. I suppose the master is in the next room. 'Tis his hour;
desire him to walk in. 'Twill make one's ears tingle, a song on one's
self!

[Here the song is performed to a spinet.

Well, dost think, Lettice, my grave lover writ this fine thing—say'st
thou?
Lett. No, madam, nobody writes songs on those they are sure of.
Pen. Sure of me! the insolent!
Lett. Nay, I know no more but that he said he'd turn me away as
soon as he had married you.
Pen. 'Tis like enough; that's the common practice of your jealous-
headed fellows. Well, I have a good mind to dress myself anew, put
on my best looks, and send for him to dismiss him. I know he loves
me.
Lett. I never knew him show it but by his jealousy.
Pen. As you say, a jealous fellow love! 'tis all mistake—'tis only for
himself he has desires; nor cares what the object of his wishes
suffers so he himself has satisfaction.—No, he has a gluttony, an
hunger for me.
Lett. An hunger for you! I protest, madam, if you'd let me be his
cook, and make you ready, I'd poison him. But I'm glad Simon
disobeyed you, and told the gentleman's servant who you were, and
your lodging.
Pen. Did the rogue do so? Call him hither.
Lett. Simon, why Simon!

Enter Simon.

Pen. Sirrah, I find I must at last turn you off, you saucy fellow. Don't
stand staring and dodging with your feet, and wearing out your
livery hat with squeezing for an excuse, but answer me, and that
presently.
Sim. I will, madam, as soon as you ask me a question.
Pen. Not afore then—Mr. Pert, don't you know, you told the
gentleman's footman in the park who I was, against my constant
order, when I walk early. Come, sirrah, tell all that passed between
you.
Sim. Why, madam, the gentleman's gentleman came up to me very
civilly, and said his master was in discourse with my lady, he
supposed; then he fell into talk about vails[54]—about profits in a
service; at last, after a deal of civil discourse between us——
Pen. Come, without this preamble, what he asked you,
impertinence; tell that, do.
Sim. He asked about you, and Madam Victoria. I said the
handsomest of the two is my lady.
Pen. Speak on boldly, Simon; I'm never angry at a servant that
speaks truth.
Welcome to our website – the ideal destination for book lovers and
knowledge seekers. With a mission to inspire endlessly, we offer a
vast collection of books, ranging from classic literary works to
specialized publications, self-development books, and children's
literature. Each book is a new journey of discovery, expanding
knowledge and enriching the soul of the reade

Our website is not just a platform for buying books, but a bridge
connecting readers to the timeless values of culture and wisdom. With
an elegant, user-friendly interface and an intelligent search system,
we are committed to providing a quick and convenient shopping
experience. Additionally, our special promotions and home delivery
services ensure that you save time and fully enjoy the joy of reading.

Let us accompany you on the journey of exploring knowledge and

personal growth!

ebookultra.com