THE SHIVERING SWAINS
OR
THE FEVERS OF FLANDES
BY GAVARREBENJAMIN
A New and Conceited Interlude
As it was performed by the Company of the Frozen Lovers.
A work of many jests, some truths, and right patriotic embracements; wherein it is proven that where there be young men and a bitter frost, Theology is but a cold comfort, and a warm blanket the only salvation.
STEP IN AND BEHOLD!
No soul shall be pricked, nor any lineage furthered.
THE AUTHOR’S CAVEAT TO THE READER
TO THE IDLE AND CURIOUS READER:
Seek not in these lines the severity of the Law, nor the blood of those foreign tragedies, for here we spend no powder but that of our own wit. If the style seemeth to thee over-bold, consider that it is the child of Necessity and Winter; and that in this humble pageant, we celebrate the peace of a hug more than the war of an inheritance.
I know well that the "Prating Tongues"—those who spy out sins through every keyhole—shall swear these lads walk a crooked path. But I say to thee, they are youths of a gentle nature, victims of a "military maneuver" ill-explained by an Uncle who hath more scars upon his hide than letters in his brain.
Read, laugh, and weigh not their deeds with the scales of the righteous. May your Worship enjoy it with the same mirth I felt in the scratching of it; and may thou never lack a thick quilt nor a comrade to banish the ice.
DRAMATIS PERSONAE
- MASTER VALENTINE: A mystical swain, a poet of small wit and long-winded sighs.
- MASTER BARNABY: A lusty youth, seemingly stout but made of marchpane.
- ROBIN: A knavish serving-man, cynical and master of the plain truth.
- MISTRESS PRUDENCE: A neighbor with a long eye and a tongue like a woodman’s axe.
- SIR HUMPHREY: An ancient Knight, veteran of the wars in Flanders, and somewhat short of light in the attic.
SCENE I: A Chamber in the Inn
(Enter VALENTINE and BARNABY. VALENTINE holdeth a book and heaveth a sigh that well-nigh douseth the candles. BARNABY adjusteth his cloak with the trembling of a young colt. ROBIN, in the background, drieth a boot with ill grace, eyeing the audience.)
VALENTINE: (Languidly) Ah, Barnaby! Dost thou not marvel at how Nature, in her secret architecture, knitteth two youths together in a bond... most tight? Sharing the self-same inn, and the very air we breathe?
BARNABY: (Gulping) Ay, cousin... that is, friend... that is, Valentine. 'Tis a bond of great... elasticity. Like kinsmen, though we be but fellow bachelors. Here we bide, under one roof, sharing a chamber and... naught else. Albeit... I find my breath groweth short when thou drawest near. 'Tis the ague, surely. Or the mists that rise from the Thames.
VALENTINE: ’Tis a temptation of the spirit! I feel a restlessness, like the itching that foretelleth the easing of the bladder. I feel as one who tasteth a ripe melon in August: I feel an inner tide, a vapor of yellows and whites seeking egress from my fervent heart. I know not if I speak plain, Barnaby... but I have a great longing to give thee... a most beastly embrace.
BARNABY: (Sighing) Heaven help me! For the very same befalleth me, swain! Just as it doth thee!
ROBIN: (Aside) These two need no confessor; they need a dousing in the frozen river at Lambeth. What sweating is this? By the Rood! I, being a rogue of loose tether, shall mind my own "easings" when the occasion weareth a fairer face.
SCENE II: The Moist Awakening
(Suddenly, both start from their chairs. They look upon each other with dread.)
VALENTINE: Barnaby! What an awakening... how moist and full of shadows! I dreamed we were two wild pards frolicking in the same lake.
BARNABY: (Red as a beet) And I dreamed we were two riders upon a single stallion, Valentine! And the beast had no saddle... and I clung to whatever I might grasp, lest I hit the dust! I held thee with such might I would not let go, even at the gallop!
VALENTINE: (Drawing very close) I trust thou held fast, lad, and took no bruise.
BARNABY: I fell not, no... the gallop ended in a bower where thou didst lie. First, I felt the frost... and then, the heat took me all at once. Ah, get thee gone, Valentine! For my doublet is singed with pure fire!
SCENE III: The Trial of the Bed
(ROBIN bringeth a candle. He removeth one cot, leaving but one narrow bed in the center.)
ROBIN: Masters, the inn is so swarmed with pilgrims that a soul cannot find room to sneeze. The host hath taken the other bed; thus, only this small pallet remains. Ye must sleep like two herrings in a single barrel.
BARNABY: (Terrified) I cannot! For I kick in my sleep like a pack-mule.
VALENTINE: And I snore in the ancient Vulgate! 'Tis most vexing to hear Virgil at midnight.
BARNABY: Moreover, my feet are icicles from the North. I shall freeze thy very blood, friend.
VALENTINE: No matter! My blood boileth like a pot upon the coals! Robin, bring a great quilt to cover us both at once!
ROBIN: (To the audience) If I bring that quilt, these two shall start a forest fire that’ll make the Great Armada look like a kitchen spark.
SCENE III-BIS: The Eye of the Keyhole
(The youths attempt to fit upon the bed: one thrusts a leg in, the other pulleth it back. The door creaketh open, and MISTRESS PRUDENCE appeareth with her beads and a fan.)
PRUDENCE: (Crossing herself) Jesu preserve us! This inn stinketh of brimstone! Ho, masters! What is this "take that" and "put there"? Ye look like ye rehearse a Morris dance in the dark!
VALENTINE: Mistress Prudence! We do but... settle our weary bones!
BARNABY: Ay! My friend hath a most aristocratic femur, and findeth no place for it.
PRUDENCE: "Aristocratic," saith the beardless boy! By the keyhole, ye looked like a sailor’s knot bound for the Indies! What sighs! That is no friendship; that is a revel! I fly to the Bishop's Court, for this beginneth in bed and endeth with me forgetting my litanies!
BARNABY: Good woman, we are two men! It is not in our nature to be lovers!
PRUDENCE: Worse and worse! If ye speak of "lovers," ye have confessed before the judge hath asked! Lust! Vice! Tomorrow this shall be sung in the ballads of every blind harper in London!
(ROBIN stoppeth her mouth and leadeth her out by the arm.)
ROBIN: Peace, Mistress! How say you, neighbor—shall you walk with me and speak of sharing our own night? For I have a most... persuasive tongue.
PRUDENCE: (Coquettishly) And shall it not be a great sin?
ROBIN: You hold your peace, and I shall shoulder the sin. But mum’s the word regarding the lads; they are good swains.
SCENE IV: Sir Humphrey’s Chaos
(Enter SIR HUMPHREY, in his nightgown, clutching a broadsword.)
SIR HUMPHREY: Blood and nails! What meaneth this clamor, ye young cockerels?
BARNABY: Uncle! The neighbor saith that sleeping together is a mortal sin. That we shall go to the Pit for a mere touching of toes!
VALENTINE: Is it a trespass against Heaven, or hath Virtue grown too narrow for the world?
SIR HUMPHREY: (Laughing) Bah! The whims of a sour old maid! In my days of war in Flanders, we slept three to a blanket, mingling arms and legs so the frost would not reap our ears. Where there is comradeship, there is no sin! 'Tis a soldier's spirit!
BARNABY: Then... it is allowed?
SIR HUMPHREY: 'Tis a duty! A cold lad must be sheltered. 'Tis the law of the camp.
VALENTINE: But what if it be not cold? For if it be only for the frost... in summer it would be forbid.
SIR HUMPHREY: 'Tis an exception of common sense!
BARNABY: Is an exception not a rule? Is it sin if we embrace to stay the shivering?
SIR HUMPHREY: The sin is to let thy neighbor freeze! In the army, we performed many "heroic acts" under the canvas! If I but told ye...!
VALENTINE: Then there is no Hell if we perform "heroic acts"?
SIR HUMPHREY: (Bellowing) The sin is in asking so much! Do what is fitting—hug or tie yourselves in a knot—but hold your tongues! Zounds! Do ye need a manual even to sleep? (Exit in a rage).
SCENE V: The Military Maneuver
BARNABY: So then... what do we? Is it permitted or forbidden?
VALENTINE: (Winking) I understood it to be well-nigh a military obligation.
BARNABY: Well then... away with the "well-nigh." Come, those embraces, comrade!
(They leap into the bed and pull the quilt over their ears.)
SCENE VI: Finale and Jig
(All enter for the final dance.)
ALL: (Singing to a lively air)
ROBIN:
The Knight gave no clear word,
Being a soldier old and gray,
But the counsel that he heard,
Was the one I meant to say!
PRUDENCE:
I spied a wicked knot,
Through the keyhole in the hall,
But better love that’s hot,
Than a gossip’s bitter gall!
VALENTINE & BARNABY:
If the Knight in Flanders' field,
Kept his comrades close and near,
To the blanket we shall yield,
And banish every fear!
ALL:
Ask no more of "why" or "how,"
Let the heavy heart take flight,
For the world is peaceful now,
When we sleep through winter’s night!
FINAL SCENE: The Wink
(The music stoppeth. ROBIN steppeth forward.)
ROBIN: (To the audience) And be not affrighted, your Worships; for in the end, 'tis all a matter of easing the body's burden, be it alone or in fair company. Is it not so, my sweet Prudence? May he who knows thee, buy thee... but life is full of such merry surprises!
(A general bow. VALENTINE and BARNABY exit hand in hand, leaping with joy. CURTAIN.)
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