ACT IV., SCAENA 1.
WIT, WILL, INSTRUCTION, STUDY, DILIGENCE.
WILL.
Tush, tush, Instruction, your talk is of no force:
You tell us a tale of a roasted horse,
Which, by his wounds, except we set to it,
As fast as we make, these[399] fellows will undo it,
Their talk is nothing but soft, and fair, and tarry;
If you follow their counsel, you shall never marry.
INSTRUCTION.
To follow our counsel your charge and promise was.
WIT.
I would I had never known you, by the mass.
Must I look so long, and spend my life with toil?
Nay, sure, I will either win it, or take the foil.
STUDY.
The surer is your ground, the better you shall bear it.
WILL.
Ground us no ground; let him win it, and wear it.
INSTRUCTION.
Good sir, be ruled, and leave this peevish elf.
WIT.
I had even as lief ye bad me hang myself;
Leave him? no, no, I would you all knew,
You be but loiterers to him, my Will tells me true.
I could be content with a week, yea a month or twain,
But three or four years! marry, that were a pain.
So long to keep me, and lie like a hog.
WILL.
A life, with all my heart, I would not wish a dog.
WIT.
Will a week serve?
STUDY.
No.
WIT.
A month?
STUDY.
Neither.
WIT.
No?
STUDY.
Not so.
INSTRUCTION.
No, nor so many mo.
WIT.
Then, farewell all, for, as I hope to thrive,
I will prove him, ere I sleep, if I be alive,
And if ye be mine, and good fellows all three,
Go thither out of hand, and take your chance with me.
INSTRUCTION.
For my part, I know I can do you no good.
WILL.
You are a proper man of your hands, by the rood!
Yet well fare him, that never his master forsaketh.
WIT.
What say'st thou, Study?
STUDY.
My head acheth.
WIT.
Out upon thee, coward! speak, Diligence.
DILIGENCE.
Against Instruction's mind, I am loth to go hence,
Yet I will make one, rather than you should lack.
WIT.
Perhaps we may find them at this time in bed.
WILL.
So much the rather look you to be sped,
Care for no more, but once to come within her,
And when you have done, then let another win her.
WIT.
To come within her, child? what meanest thou by that?
WILL.
One mass for a penny, you know what is what!
WIT.
Heard you ever such a counsel of such a Jack sprat?
WILL.
Why, sir, do ye think to do any good,
If ye stand in a corner like Robin Hood?
Nay, you must stout it, and face it out with the best:
Set on a good countenance, make the most of the least,
Whosoever skip in, look to your part,
And while you live, beware of a false heart.
WIT.
Both blame and shame rash boldness doth breed.
WILL.
You must adventure both: spare to speak, spare to speed.
What tell you me of shame? it is shame to steal a horse.
WIT.
More haste than good speed makes many fare the worse.
WILL.
But he that takes not such time, while he may,
Shall leap at a whiting, when time is away.
WIT.
But he that leaps, before he look, good son,
May leap in the mire, and miss when he hath done.
[Enter Science, Season, and Experience.
SCIENCE.
Methink I hear the voice of Will, Wit's boy.
WIT.
I see her come, her sorrow and my joy,
My salve and yet my sore, my comfort and my care,
The causer of my wound, and yet the well of my welfare;
O happy wight, that have the saint of your request,
O hopeless hope, that holdeth me from that which likes me best!
Twixt hope and fear I stand, to mar or else to make,
This day to be relieved quite, or else my death-wound to take.
REASON.
Here let us rest awhile, and pause all three:
EXPERIENCE.
Daughter, sit down, belike this same is he.
WILL.
Be of good cheer, sir; be ruled by me.
Women are best pleased, till they be used homely,
Look her in the face, and tell your tale stoutly.
WIT.
O pearl of passing price, sent down from God on high,
The sweetest beauty to entice, that hath been seen with eye:
The well of wealth to all, that no man doth annoy:
The key of kingdoms and the seal of everlasting joy.
The treasure and the store, whom all good things began,
The nurse of lady Wisdom's love, the link of man and man.
What words shall me suffice to utter my desire?
What heat of talk shall I devise, for to express my fire?
I burn and yet I freeze, I flame and cool as fast,
In hope to win and for to lese, my pensiveness doth last;
Why should my dull spirit appal my courage so?
O, salve my sore, or sle me quite, by saying yea or no!
You are the mark at whom I shoot to hit or miss,
My life it stays on you alone, to you my suit it is,
A suit[400] not much unmeet with you some grace[401] to find,
Dame Nature's son, my name is Wit, that fancieth you by kind,
And here I come this day to wait and to attend,
In hope to have my hoped prey,[402] or else my life to end.
SCIENCE.
Good cause there is, wherefore I should embrace,
This loving heart which you have borne to me,
And glad I am, that we be both in place,
Each one of us each other's looks to see.
Your picture and your person doth agree,
Your prince-like port and eke your noble face;
Wherein so many signs of virtue be:
That I must needs be moved in your case.
REASON.
Friend Wit, are you the man indeed, which you intend?[403]
Can you be well content, until your life doth end,
To join and knit most sure with this my daughter here,
And unto her alone your fixed faith to bear?
WIT.
As I am bent to this, so let my suit be sped,
If I do fail, ten thousand plagues and more light on my head!
EXPERIENCE.
There are, that promise fair, and mean as well,
As any heart[404] can think, or tongue can tell:
Which at the first are hot, and kindle in desire,
But in one month or twain quite quenched is the fire.
Such is the train[405] of youth, whom fancy's force doth lead,
Whose love is only at the plunge, and cannot long proceed.
WIT.
Credit my words, and ye shall find me true.
EXPERIENCE.
Suppose you keep not touch, who should this bargain rue?
WIT.
I will be sworn here solemnly before you both.
EXPERIENCE.
Who breaketh promise, will not stick likewise to break his oath.
WIT.
I will be bound in all that ever I can make.
EXPERIENCE.
What good were that to us, if we th'advantage take?
WIT.
Will neither promise serve, nor oath, nor bands?[406]
What other assurance will ye ask at my hands?
WILL.
My master is a gentleman, I tell you, and his word,
I would you knew it, shall with his deeds accord.
REASON.
We know not whom to trust, the world is so ill.
WILL.
Indeed, sir, as you say, you may mend, when ye will;
But in good earnest, madam, speak—off or on?
Shall we speed at your hand, or shall we be gone?
I love not these delays; say so, if we shall have you,
If not, say no; and let another crave you.
WIT.
Soft and fair, sir boy, you talk, you wot not what. [Aside.
WILL.
Can you abide to be driven off with this and that,
Can they ask any more than good assurance at your hands? [Aside.
EXPERIENCE.
All is now too little, son, as the matter stands.
WILL.
If all be too little, both goods and lands,
I know not what will please you, except Darby's bands.[407]
SCIENCE.
I have an enemy, my friend Wit, a mortal foe to me;
And therewithal the greatest plague that can befal to thee.
WIT.
Must I fight with him?
REASON.
Can you fight, if need be?
WILL.
If any such thing fall, count the charge to me,
Trouble not yourself.
WIT.
Hold thy peace, elf.
SCIENCE.
Hear out my tale; I have a mortal foe,
That lurketh in the wood hereby, as you come and go;
This monstrous giant bears a grudge to me and mine,
And will attempt to keep thee back from this desire of thine.
The bane of youth, the root of ruin and distress:[408]
Devouring those that sue to me, his name is Tediousness.
No sooner he espies the noble Wit begin:
To stir and pain itself the love of me to win.
But forth he steps, and with strong hands by might and main.
He beats and buffets down the force and liveliness of brain.
That done, in deep despair he drowns him villainously:
Ten thousand suitors in a year are cast away thereby.
Now, if your mind be surely fixed so,
That for no toil nor cost my love you will forego,
Bethink you well, and of this monster take good heed,
Then may you have with me the greater hope to speed.
Herein use good advice, to make you strong and stout,
To feud and keep him off a while, until his rage be out.
Then when you feel yourself well able to prevail,
Bid you the battle, and that so courageously assail.
If you can win the field, present me with his head,
I ask no more, and I forthwith shall be your own to bed.
WIT.
Ill might I thrive, and lack that likes me best,
If I be not a scourge to him, that breedeth[409] your unrest.
Madam, assure yourself, he lives not in the land,
With whom I would not in your cause encounter hand to hand.
And as for Tediousness that wretch, your common foe,
Let me alone, we twain shall cope, before I sleep, I trow.
WILL.
Lustily spoken, let me claw thee by the back:
How say you now sir, here are three against twain!
STUDY.
Go, that go list, I will at home remain,
I have more need to take a nap in my bed.
WILL.
Do so, and, hear you, couch a cod's-head! [Aside.
INSTRUCTION.
Well, since it will none otherwise frame,
Let us twain, Study, return[410] from whence we came.
STUDY. Agreed. [Exit.
WIT.
And let us three bestir ourselves like men;
Unlikely things are brought to pass by courage now and then.
My Will, be always prest, and ready at an inch,
To save thyself, to succour me, to help at every pinch.
Both twain on either side assault him, if ye can,
And you shall see me in the middes, how I will play the man;
This is the deadly den, as far as I perceive,
Approach we near, and valiantly let us the onset give.
Come forth, thou monster fell, in drowsy darkness hid,
For here is Wit, Dame Nature's son, that doth thee battle bid.
ACT IV., SCAENA 2.
TEDIOUSNESS, WIT, WILL, DILIGENCE.
TEDIOUSNESS.
What princox have we here, that dares me to assail?
Alas, poor boy, and weenest thou against me to prevail?
Full small was he thy friend, whoever sent thee hither,
For I must drive thee back with shame, or slay thee altogether.
WIT.
Great boast, small roast: I warrant thee, do thy best,
Thy head must serve my turn this day to set my heart at rest.
WILL.
And I must have a leg of thee, if I can catch it.
TEDIOUSNESS.
First I must quite this brain of thine, if I can reach it.
[Fight, strike at Will.
WIT.
Well shifted, Will; now have at thee, sir knave.
TEDIOUSNESS.
These friscols shall not serve your turn for all your vaunts so brave;
Ho, ho! did I not tell thee thou cam'st to thy pain!
DILIGENCE.
Help, help, help, our master is slain.
WILL.
Help, help, help, &c.
TEDIOUSNESS.
Where are these lusty bloods, that make their match with me?
Here lies a pattern for them all, to look at and to see.
To teach them to conspire against my force and might;
To promise, for their woman's love, to vanquish me in fight:
Now let them go and crake, how wisely they have sped,
Such is the end of those, that seek this curious dame to wed.
[Exit TED.
ACT IV., SCAENA 3.
WILL, RECREATION, WIT.
WILL.
Rub and chafe him:
For God's love, haste; see, lo, where he doth lie.
RECREATION.
He is not cold, I warrant him, I.
SING.
_Give a leg, give an arm; arise, arise. Hold up[411] thy head, lift us thy eyes,
1 A leg to stand upright:
2 An arm to fight amain,
1 The head to hold thy brains in plight,
2 The eyes to look again.
Awake, ye drowned powers.
Ye sprites, for-dull with toil:
Resign to me this care of yours,
And from dead sleep recoil.
Think not upon your loathsome luck,
But arise, and dance with us a-pluck.
[Both sing, Give a leg, as is before.
2 What, though thou hast not hit
The top of thy desire,
Time is not so far spent as yet
To cause thee to retire.
Arise, and ease thyself of pain,
And make thee strong to fight again_.
SING BOTH.
Let not thy foes rejoice;
Let not thy friends lament;
Let not thy lady's rueful voice
In sobs and sighs be spent;
Thy faith is plight, forget it not,
Twixt her and thee to knit the knot.
SING.
_Give a leg, &c.
This is no deadly wound:
It may be cured well.
See here what physic we have found
Thy sorrows to expel.
[Wit lifting himself up, sitting on the ground.
The way is plain, the mark is fair,
Lodge not thyself in deep despair_.
WIT.[412]
What noise is this, that ringeth in my ears,
Her noise that grieveth my mishap with tears?
Ah, my mishap, my desperate mishap,
On[413] whom ill-fortune poureth down all mishap at a clap,
What shall become of me, where shall I hide my head?
O, what a death is it to live for him that would be dead?
But since it chanceth so, whatever wight thou be,
That findeth me here in heavy plight, go, tell her this from me.
Causeless I perish here, and cause to curse I have.
The time that erst I lived to love, and now must die her slave,
The match was over-much for me, she understood,
Alas, why hath she this delight to lap in guiltless blood?
How did I give her cause to show me this despite,
To match me where she wist full well I should be slain in fight?
But go, and tell her plain, although too late for me,
Accursed be the time and hour, which first I did her see.
Accursed be the wight, that will'd me first thereto,
And cursed be they all at once, that had therewith to do.
Now get thee hence in haste, and suffer me to die.
Whom scornful chance and lawless love have slain most traitorously.
RECREATION.
O noble Wit, the miracle of God and eke of Nature:
Why cursest thou thyself and every other creature?
What causeth thee thine innocent dear lady to accuse?
Who would lament it more than she to hear this woful news?
Why wilt thou die, whereas thou may'st be sure of health?
Whereas thou seest a plain pathway to worship and to wealth.
Not every foil doth make a fall, nor every soil doth slay;
Comfort thyself: be sure thy luck will mend from day to day.
WILL.
These gentlewomen of good skill are[414] come to make you sound,
They know which way to salve your sore, and how to cure your wound.
Good sir, be ruled by her then, and pluck your spirit to you:
There is no doubt, but you shall find your loving lady true.
WIT.
Ah, Will, art thou alive that doth my heart some ease,
The sight of thee, sweet boy, my sorrows doth appease:
How hast thou 'scap'd? what fortune thee befel?
WILL.
It was no trusting to my hands, my heels did serve me well,
I ran with open mouth to cry for help amain,
And, as good fortune would, I hit upon these twain.
WIT.
I thank both thee and them; what will ye have me do?
RECREATION.
To rise and dance a little space with us two.
WIT.
What then?
RECREATION.
That done, repair again to Study and Instruction;
Take better hold by their advice, your foe to set upon.
WIT.
Can any recompense recover this my fall?
RECREATION.
My life to yours, it may be mended all.
WIT.
Speak, Will.
WILL.
I have no doubt, sir, it shall be, as you would wish.
WIT.
But yet this repulse of mine they will lay in my dish.
RECREATION.
No man shall let them know thereof, unless yourself do it.
WIT.
On that condition, a God's name, fall we to it.
WILL.
Nay, stand we to it, and let us fall no more.
WIT.
Will dancing serve, and I will dance, until my bones be sore,
Pipe us up a galliard, minstrel, to begin.
[Let Will call for dances, one after another.
WILL.
Come, damsel, in good faith, and let me have you in,
Let him practise in dancing all things to make himself breathless.[415]
RECREATION.
Enough at once, now leave, and let us part.
WIT.
This exercise hath done me good, even to the very heart.
Let us be bold with you more acquaintance to take,
And dance a round yet once more for my sake,
Enough is enough; farewell, and at your need
Use my acquaintance, if it may stand you in stead.
Right worthy damsels both, I know you seek no gains
In recompense of this desert your undeserved pains.
But look what other thing my service may devise,
To show my thankful heart in any enterprise.
Be ye as bold therewith, as I am bold on you,
And thus with hearty thanks I take my leave as now.
RECREATION.
Farewell, friend Wit, and since you are relieved,
Think not upon your foil, whereat you were so griev'd,
But take your heart to you, and give attempt once more:
I warrant you to speed much better than before.
[Exeunt.
ACT IV., SCAENA 4.
WIT, WILL, IDLENESS, IGNORANCE.
WIT.
One dance for thee and me; my boy, come on.
WILL.
Dance you, sir, if you please, and I will look upon.
WIT.
This gear doth make me sweat, and breathe apace.
IDLENESS.
Sir, ease yourself awhile; here is a resting-place.
WIT.
Home, Will, and make my bed, for I will take a nap.
IGNORANCE.
Sure, and it please your mastership, here in my dame's lap.
IDLENESS singeth.
Come, come, lie down, and thou shall see,
None like to me to entertain
Thy bones and thee oppressed with pain.
Come, come, and ease thee in my lap,
And if it please thee, take a nap;
A nap, that shall delight thee so,
That fancies all will thee forego.
By musing still, what canst thou find,
But wants of will and restless mind?
A mind that mars and mangles all,
And breedeth jars to work thy fall!
Come, gentle Wit, I thee require,
And thou shalt hit thy chief desire:
Thy chief desire, thy hoped prey;
First ease thee here, and then away.
WIT. [Falls down into her lap.
My bones are stiff, and I am wearied sore,
And still me-think I faint and feeble more and more;
Wake me again in time, for I have things to do,
And as you will me for mine ease, I do assent thereto.
IDLENESS. [Lulls him.
Welcome, with all my heart: sir boy, hold here this fan,
And softly cool his face; sleep soundly, gentleman.
This char is char'd[416] well now, Ignorance, my son,
Thou seest all this, how featly[417] it is done;
But wot'st thou why?
IGNORANCE.
Nay, bumfay,[418] mother, not I.
Well, I wot 'tis a gay worched trick and trim:
Chould rejouce my heart to chance coots[419] with him.
IDLENESS.
Dost thou remember how many I have served in the like sort?
IGNORANCE.
It doth my heart good to think on this sport.
IDLENESS.
Wilt thou see this proper fellow served so?
IGNORANCE.
Chould give tway pence to see it and tway pence mo.
IDLENESS.
Come off, then, let me see thee in his doublet and his[420] hose.
IGNORANCE.
You shall see a tall fellow, mother, I suppose.
IDLENESS.
Help off with this sleeve softly for fear of waking,
We shall leave the gentleman in a pretty taking.
Give me thy coat, hold this in thy hand:
This fellow would be married to Science, I understand.
But, ere we leave him, tell me another tale!
Now let us make him look somewhat stale.
There lie, and there be: the proverb is verified,
I am neither idle, nor yet well-occupied.
IGNORANCE.
Mother, must I have his coat? now, mother, I must.
Chalt be a lively lad with hey tisty-tust.
IDLENESS.
Sleep sound, and have no care to occupy thy head,
As near unto thy body now, as if thou had'st been dead.
For Idleness hath won, and wholly thee possess'd,
And utterly disabled thee from having thy request.
Come on with me, my son, let us go couch again,
And let this lusty ruffling Wit here like a fool remain.
[Exeunt.