A Select Collection of Old English Plays, Volume 09

by Unknown

ACT III., SCENE I.

A Room in Young Arthur's House.

Enter MISTRESS ARTHUR and PIPKIN.

MRS ART. Sirrah! when saw you your master?

PIP. Faith, mistress, when I last look'd upon him.

MRS ART. And when was that?

PIP. When I beheld him.

MRS ART. And when was that?

PIP. Marry, when he was in my sight, and that was yesterday; since when I saw not my master, nor looked on my master, nor beheld my master, nor had any sight of my master.

MRS ART. Was he not at my father-in-law's?

PIP. Yes, marry, was he.

MRS ART. Didst thou not entreat him to come home?

PIP. How should I, mistress? he came not there to-day.

MRS ART. Didst thou not say he was there?

PIP. True, mistress, he was there? but I did not tell ye when; he hath been there divers times, but not of late.

MRS ART. About your business! here I'll sit and wait
His coming home, though it be ne'er so late.
Now once again go look him at the 'Change,
Or at the church with Sir Aminadab.
'Tis told me they use often conference;
When that is done, get you to school again.

PIP. I had rather play the truant at home, than go seek my master at school: let me see, what age am I? some four and twenty, and how have I profited? I was five years learning to crish cross[16] from great A, and five years longer coming to F; there I stuck some three years, before I could come to Q; and so, in process of time, I came to e per se e, and com per se, and tittle; then I got to a, e, i, o, u; after, to Our Father; and, in the sixteenth year of my age, and the fifteenth of my going to school, I am in good time gotten to a noun, By the same token there my hose went down; Then I got to a verb, There I began first to have a beard; Then I came to iste, ista, istud, There my master whipped me till he fetched the blood, And so forth: so that now I am become the greatest scholar in the school, for I am bigger than two or three of them. But I am gone; farewell, mistress!

[Exit.

SCENE II.

The Street.

Enter ANSELM and FULLER.

FUL. Love none at all! They will forswear themselves,
And when you urge them with it, their replies
Are, that Jove laughs at lovers' perjuries.

ANS. You told me of a jest concerning that;
I prythee, let me hear it.

FUL. That thou shalt.
My mistress in a humour had protested,
That above all the world she lov'd me best;
Saying with suitors she was oft molested,
And she had lodg'd her heart within my breast;
And sware (but me), both by her mask and fan,
She never would so much as name a man.
Not name a man? quoth I; yet be advis'd;
Not love a man but me! let it be so.
You shall not think, quoth she, my thought's disguis'd
In flattering language or dissembling show;
I say again, and I know what I do,
I will not name a man alive but you.
Into her house I came at unaware,
Her back was to me, and I was not seen;
I stole behind her, till I had her fair,
Then with my hands I closed both her een;
She, blinded thus, beginneth to bethink her
Which of her loves it was that did hoodwink her.
First she begins to guess and name a man,
That I well knew, but she had known far better;
The next I never did suspect till then:
Still of my name I could not hear a letter;
Then mad, she did name Robin, and then James,
Till she had reckon'd up some twenty names;
At length, when she had counted up a score,
As one among the rest, she hit on me;
I ask'd her if she could not reckon more,
And pluck'd away my hands to let her see;
But, when she look'd back, and saw me behind her,
She blush'd, and ask'd if it were I did blind her?
And since I sware, both by her mask and fan,
To trust no she-tongue, that can name a man.

ANS. Your great oath hath some exceptions:
But to our former purpose; yon is Mistress Arthur;
We will attempt another kind of wooing,
And make her hate her husband, if we can.

FUL. But not a word of passion or of love;
Have at her now to try her patience.

Enter MISTRESS ARTHUR.

God save you, mistress!

MRS ART. You are welcome, sir.

FUL. I pray you, where's your husband?

MRS ART. Not within.

ANS. Who, Master Arthur? him I saw even now
At Mistress Mary's, the brave courtesan's.

MRS ART. Wrong not my husband's reputation so;
I neither can nor will believe you, sir.

FUL. Poor gentlewoman! how much I pity you;
Your husband is become her only guest:
He lodges there, and daily diets there,
He riots, revels, and doth all things;
Nay, he is held the Master of Misrule
'Mongst a most loathed and abhorred crew:
And can you, being a woman, suffer this?

MRS ART. Sir, sir! I understand you well enough:
Admit, my husband doth frequent that house
Of such dishonest usage; I suppose
He doth it but in zeal to bring them home
By his good counsel from that course of sin;
And, like a Christian, seeing them astray
In the broad path that to damnation leads,
He useth thither to direct their feet
Into the narrow way that guides to heaven.

ANS. Was ever woman gull'd so palpably! [Aside.]
But, Mistress Arthur, think you as you say?

MRS ART. Sir, what I think, I think, and what I say,
I would I could enjoin you to believe.

ANS. Faith, Mistress Arthur, I am sorry for you:
And, in good sooth, I wish it lay in me
To remedy the least part of these wrongs
Your unkind husband daily proffers you.

MRS ART. You are deceived, he is not unkind:
Although he bear an outward face of hate,
His heart and soul are both assured mine.

ANS. Fie, Mistress Arthur! take a better spirit;
Be not so timorous to rehearse your wrongs:
I say, your husband haunts bad company,
Swaggerers, cheaters, wanton courtesans;
There he defiles his body, stains his soul,
Consumes his wealth, undoes himself and you
In danger of diseases, whose vile names
Are not for any honest mouths to speak,
Nor any chaste ears to receive and hear.
O, he will bring that face, admir'd for beauty,
To be more loathed than a lep'rous skin!
Divorce yourself, now whilst the clouds grow black;
Prepare yourself a shelter for the storm;
Abandon his most loathed fellowship:
You are young, mistress; will you lose your youth?

MRS ART. Tempt no more, devil! thy deformity
Hath chang'd itself into an angel's shape,
But yet I know thee by thy course of speech:
Thou gett'st an apple to betray poor Eve,
Whose outside bears a show of pleasant fruit;
But the vile branch, on which this apple grew,
Was that which drew poor Eve from paradise.
Thy Syren's song could make me drown myself,
But I am tied unto the mast of truth.
Admit, my husband be inclin'd to vice,
My virtues may in time recall him home;
But, if we both should desp'rate run to sin,
We should abide certain destruction.
But he's like one, that over a sweet face
Puts a deformed vizard; for his soul
Is free from any such intents of ill:
Only to try my patience he puts on
An ugly shape of black intemperance;
Therefore, this blot of shame which he now wears,
I with my prayers will purge, wash with my tears.
[Exit.

ANS. Fuller!

FUL. Anselm!

ANS. How lik'st thou this?

FUL. As school-boys jerks, apes whips, as lions cocks,
As Furies do fasting-days, and devils crosses,
As maids to have their marriage-days put off;
I like it as the thing I most do loathe.
What wilt thou do? for shame, persist no more
In this extremity of frivolous love.
I see, my doctrine moves no precise ears,
But such as are profess'd inamoratos.

ANS. O, I shall die!

FUL. Tush! live to laugh a little:
Here's the best subject that thy love affords;
Listen awhile and hear this: ho, boy! speak.

Enter AMINADAB.

AMIN. As in presenti, thou loath'st the gift I sent thee;
Nolo plus tarry, but die for the beauteous Mary;
Fain would I die by a sword, but what sword shall I die by?
Or by a stone, what stone? nullus lapis jacet ibi.
Knive I have none to sheathe in my breast, or empty my full veins:
Here's no wall or post which I can soil with my bruis'd brains;
First will I therefore say two or three creeds and Ave Marys,
And after go buy a poison at the apothecary's.

FUL. I pry thee, Anselm, but observe this fellow;
Doest not hear him? he would die for love;
That misshap'd love thou wouldst condemn in him,
I see in thee: I prythee, note him well.

ANS. Were I assur'd that I were such a lover
I should be with myself quite out of love:
I prythee, let's persuade him still to live.

FUL. That were a dangerous case, perhaps the fellow
In desperation would, to soothe us up,
Promise repentant recantation,
And after fall into that desperate course,
Both which I will prevent with policy.

AMIN. O death! come with thy dart! come, death, when I bid thee!
Mors, veni: veni, mors! and from this misery rid me;
She whom I lov'd—whom I lov'd, even she—my sweet pretty Mary,
Doth but flout and mock, and jest and dissimulary.

FUL. I'll fit him finely; in this paper is
The juice of mandrake, by a doctor made
To cast a man, whose leg should be cut off,
Into a deep, a cold, and senseless sleep;
Of such approved operation
That whoso takes it, is for twice twelve hours
Breathless, and to all men's judgments past all sense;
This will I give the pedant but in sport;
For when 'tis known to take effect in him,
The world will but esteem it as a jest;
Besides, it may be a means to save his life,
For being [not] perfect poison, as it seems
His meaning is, some covetous slave for coin
Will sell it him,[17] though it be held by law
To be no better than flat felony.

ANS. Uphold the jest—but he hath spied us; peace!

AMIN. Gentles, God save you!
Here is a man I have noted oft, most learn'd in physic,
One man he help'd of the cough, another he heal'd of the pthisic,
And I will board him thus, salve, O salve, magister!

FUL. Gratus mihi advenis! quid mecum vis?

AMIN. Optatus venis; paucis te volo.

FUL. Si quid industria nostra tibi faciet, dic, quaeso.

AMIN. Attend me, sir;—I have a simple house,
But, as the learned Diogenes saith
In his epistle to Tertullian,
It is extremely troubled with great rats;
I have no mus puss, nor grey-ey'd cat,
To hunt them out. O, could your learned art
Show me a means how I might poison them,
Tuus dum suus, Sir Aminadab.

FUL. With all my heart; I am no rat-catcher;
But if you need a poison, here is that
Will pepper both your dogs, and rats, and cats:
Nay, spare your purse: I give this in good will;
And, as it proves, I pray you send to me,
And let me know. Would you aught else with me?

AMIN. Minimè quidem; here's that you say will take them? A thousand thanks, sweet sir; I say to you, As Tully in his Aesop's Fables said Ago tibi gratias; so farewell, vale! [Exit.

FUL. Adieu! Come, let us go; I long to see,
What the event of this new jest will be.

Enter YOUNG ARTHUR.

Y. ART. Good morrow, gentleman; saw you not this way,
As you were walking, Sir Aminadab?

ANS. Master Arthur, as I take it?

Y. ART. Sir, the same.

ANS. Sir, I desire your more familiar love:
Would I could bid myself unto your house,
For I have wish'd for your acquaintance long.

Y. ART. Sweet Master Anselm, I desire yours too;
Will you come dine with me at home to-morrow?
You shall be welcome, I assure you, sir.

ANS. I fear, sir, I shall prove too bold a guest.

Y. ART. You shall be welcome, if you bring your friend.

FUL. O Lord, sir, we shall be too troublesome.

Y. ART. Nay, now I will enforce a promise from you:
Shall I expect you?

FUL. Yes, with all my heart.

ANS. A thousand thanks. Yonder's the schoolmaster.
So, till to-morrow, twenty times farewell.

Y. ART. I double all your farewells twenty-fold.

ANS. O, this acquaintance was well scrap'd of me;
By this my love to-morrow I shall see.

[Exeunt ANSELM and FULLER.

Enter AMINADAB.

AMIN. This poison shall by force expel Amorem, love, infernum, hell. Per hoc venenum, ego, I For my sweet lovely lass will die.

Y. ART. What do I hear of poison; which sweet means
Must make me a brave frolic widower?
It seems the doting fool, being forlorn,
Hath got some compound mixture in despair,
To end his desperate fortunes and his life;
I'll get it from him, and with this make way
To my wife's night and to my love's fair day.

AMIN. In nomine domini, friends, farewell!
I know death comes, here's such a smell!
Pater et mater, father and mother,
Frater et soror, sister and brother,
And my sweet Mary, not these drugs
Do send me to the infernal bugs,
But thy unkindness; so, adieu!
Hob-goblins, now I come to you.

Y. ART. Hold, man, I say! what will the madman do?
[Takes away the supposed poison.
Ay, have I got thee? thou shalt go with me. [Aside.
No more of that; fie, Sir Minadab!
Destroy yourself! If I but hear hereafter
You practise such revenge upon yourself,
All your friends shall know that for a wench—
A paltry wench—you would have kill'd yourself.

AMIN. O tace, quaeso; do not name
This frantic deed of mine for shame.
My sweet magister, not a word;
I'll neither drown me in a ford,
Nor give my neck such a scope,
T'embrace it with a hempen rope;
I'll die no way, till nature will me,
And death come with his dart, and kill me,
If what is pass'd you will conceal,
And nothing to the world reveal;
Nay, as Quintillian said of yore,
I'll strive to kill myself no more.

Y. ART. On that condition I'll conceal this deed:
To-morrow, pray, come and dine with me;
For I have many strangers; 'mongst the rest,
Some are desirous of your company.
You will not fail me?

AMIN. No, in sooth;
I'll try the sharpness of my tooth;
Instead of poison, I will eat
Rabbits, capons, and such meat;
And so, as Pythagoras says,
With wholesome fare prolong my days.
But, sir, will Mistress Mall be there?

Y. ART. She shall, she shall; man, never fear.

AMIN. Then my spirit becomes stronger,
And I will live and stretch longer;
For Ovid said, and did not lie,
That poison'd men do often die:
But poison henceforth I'll not eat,
Whilst I can other victuals get.
To-morrow, if you make a feast,
Be sure, sir, I will be your guest.
But keep my counsel, vale tu!
And, till to-morrow, sir, adieu!
At your table I will prove,
If I can eat away my love. [Exit.

Y. ART. O, I am glad I have thee; now devise
A way how to bestow it cunningly;
It shall be thus: to-morrow I'll pretend
A reconcilement 'twixt my wife and me,
And to that end I will invite thus many—
First Justice Reason, as the chief man there;
My father Arthur, old Lusam, young Lusam.
Master Fuller and Master Anselm I have bid already;
Then will I have my lovely Mary too,
Be it but to spite my wife, before she die;
For die she shall before to-morrow night.
The operation of this poison is
Not suddenly to kill; they that take it
Fall in a sleep, and then 'tis past recure,
And this will I put in her cup to-morrow.

Enter PIPKIN, running.

PIP. This 'tis to have such a master! I have sought him at the 'Change, at the school, at every place, but I cannot find him nowhere. [Sees M. ART.] O, cry mercy! my mistress would entreat you to come home.

Y. ART. I cannot come to-night; some urgent business
Will all this night employ me otherwise.

PIP. I believe my mistress would con you as much thank to do that business at home as abroad.

Y. ART. Here, take my purse, and bid my wife provide
Good cheer against to-morrow; there will be
Two or three strangers of my late acquaintance.
Sirrah, go you to Justice Reason's house;
Invite him first with all solemnity;
Go to my father's and my father-in-law's;
Here, take this note—
The rest that come I will invite myself:
About it with what quick despatch thou can'st.

PIP. I warrant you, master, I'll despatch this business with more honesty than you'll despatch yours. But, master, will the gentlewoman be there?

Y. ART. What gentlewoman?

PIP. The gentlewoman of the old house, that is as well known by the colour she lays on her cheeks, as an alehouse by the painting is laid on his lattice; she that is, like homo, common to all men; she that is beholden to no trade, but lives of herself.

Y. ART. Sirrah, begone, or I will send you hence.

PIP. I'll go [aside]; but, by this hand, I'll tell my mistress as soon as I come home that mistress light-heels comes to dinner to-morrow. [Exit.

Y. ART. Sweet Mistress Mary, I'll invite myself:
And there I'll frolic, sup, and spend the night.
My plot is current; here 'tis in my hand
Will make me happy in my second choice:
And I may freely challenge as mine own,
What I am now enforc'd to seek by stealth.
Love is not much unlike ambition;
For in them both all lets must be remov'd
'Twixt every crown and him that would aspire;
And he that will attempt to win the same
Must plunge up to the depth o'er head and ears,
And hazard drowning in that purple sea:
So he that loves must needs through blood and fire,
And do all things to compass his desire.

[Exit.

SCENE III.

A Room in Young Arthur's House.

Enter MISTRESS ARTHUR and her MAID.

MRS ART. Come, spread the table; is the hall well rubb'd?
The cushions in the windows neatly laid?
The cupboard of plate set out? the casements stuck
With rosemary and flowers? the carpets brush'd?

MAID. Ay, forsooth, mistress.

MRS ART. Look to the kitchen-maid, and bid the cook take down the oven-stone, [lest] the pies be burned: here, take my keys, and give him out more spice.

MAID. Yes, forsooth, mistress.

MRS ART. Where's that knave Pipkin? bid him spread the cloth,
Fetch the clean diaper napkins from my chest,
Set out the gilded salt, and bid the fellow
Make himself handsome, get him a clean band.

MAID. Indeed, forsooth, mistress, he is such a sloven,
That nothing will sit handsome about him;
He had a pound of soap to scour his face,
And yet his brow looks like the chimney-stock.

MRS ART. He'll be a sloven still; maid, take this apron,
And bring me one of linen: quickly, maid.

MAID. I go, forsooth.

MRS ART. There was a curtsy! let me see't again;
Ay, that was well.—[Exit MAID.] I fear my guests will come
Ere we be ready. What a spite is this.

Within. Mistress!

MRS ART. What's the matter?

Within. Mistress, I pray, take Pipkin from the fire; We cannot keep his fingers from the roast.

MRS ART. Bid him come hither; what a knave is that!
Fie, fie, never out of the kitchen!
Still broiling by the fire!

Enter PIPKIN.

PIP. I hope you will not take Pipkin from the fire,
Till the broth be enough.

Enter MAID, with an apron.

MRS ART. Well, sirrah, get a napkin and a trencher,
And wait to-day. So, let me see: my apron. [Puts it on.]

PIP. Mistress, I can tell ye one thing, my master's wench
Will come home to-day to dinner.

Enter JUSTICE REASON, and his man HUGH.

MRS ART. She shall be welcome, if she be his guest.
But here's some of our guests are come already:
A chair for Justice Reason, sirrah!

JUS. Good morrow, Mistress Arthur! you are like a good housewife:
At your request I am come home. What, a chair!
Thus age seeks ease. Where is your husband, mistress?
What, a cushion, too!

PIP. I pray you, ease your tail, sir.

JUS. Marry, and will, good fellow; twenty thanks.

[HUGH and PIPKIN converse apart.]

PIP. Master Hugh, as welcome as heart can tell, or tongue can think.

HUGH. I thank you, Master Pipkin; I have got many a good dish of broth by your means.

PIP. According to the ancient courtesy, you are welcome; according to the time and place, you are heartily welcome: when they are busied at the board, we will find ourselves busied in the buttery; and so, sweet Hugh, according to our scholars' phrase, gratulor adventum tuum.

HUGH. I will answer you with the like, sweet Pipkin, gratias.

PIP. As much grace as you will, but as little of it as you can, good Hugh. But here comes more guests.

Enter OLD MASTER ARTHUR and OLD MASTER LUSAM.

MRS ART. More stools and cushions for these gentlemen.

O. ART. What, Master Justice Reason, are you here?
Who would have thought to have met you in this place?

O. LUS. What say mine eyes, is Justice Reason here?
Mountains may meet, and so, I see, may we.

JUS. Well, when men meet, they meet,
And when they part, they oft leave one another's company;
So we, being met, are met.

O. LUS. Truly, you say true;
And Master Justice Reason speaks but reason:
To hear how wisely men of law will speak!

Enter ANSELM and FULLER.

ANS. Good morrow, gentlemen!

MRS ART. What? are you there?

ANS. Good morrow, mistress, and good morrow, all!

JUS. If I may be so bold in a strange place,
I say, good morrow, and as much to you.
I pray, gentlemen, will you sit down?
We have been young, like you; and, if you live
Unto our age, you will be old like us.

FUL. Be rul'd by reason; but who's here?

Enter AMINADAB.

AMIN. Salvete, omnes! and good day
To all at once, as I may say;
First, Master Justice; next, Old Arthur,
That gives me pension by the quarter;
To my good mistress and the rest,
That are the founders of this feast;
In brief, I speak to omnes, all,
That to their meat intend to fall.

JUS. Welcome, Sir Aminadab; O, my son
Hath profited exceeding well with you:
Sit down, sit down, by Mistress Arthur's leave.

Enter YOUNG MASTER ARTHUR, YOUNG MASTER
LUSAM, and MISTRESS MARY.

Y. ART. Gentlemen, welcome all; whilst I deliver
Their private welcomes, wife, be it your charge
To give this gentlewoman entertainment.

MRS ART. Husband, I will. O, this is she usurps
The precious interest of my husband's love;
Though, as I am a woman, I could well
Thrust such a lewd companion out of doors;
Yet, as I am a true, obedient, wife,
I'd kiss her feet to do my husband's will. [Aside.
You are entirely welcome, gentlewoman;
Indeed you are; pray, do not doubt of it.

MRS MA. I thank you, Mistress Arthur; now, by my little honesty,
It much repents me to wrong so chaste a woman. [Aside.

Y. ART. Gentles, put o'er your legs; first, Master Justice,
Here you shall sit.

JUS. And here shall Mistress Mary sit by me.

Y. ART. Pardon me, sir, she shall have my wife's place.

MRS ART. Indeed, you shall, for he will have it so.

MRS MA. If you will needs; but I shall do you wrong
To take your place.

O. LUS. Ay, by my faith, you should.

MRS ART. That is no wrong, which we impute no wrong!
I pray you, sit.

Y. ART. Gentlemen all, I pray you, seat yourselves:
What, Sir Aminadab, I know where your heart is.
[Aside.
AMIN. Mum, not a word, pax vobis, peace:
Come, gentles, I'll be of this mess.

Y. ART. So, who gives thanks?

AMIN. Sir, that will I.

Y. ART. I pray you to it by and by.
Where's Pipkin?
Wait at the board; let Master Season's man
Be had into the buttery; but first give him
A napkin and a trencher. Well-said. Hugh,
Wait at your master's elbow: now say grace.

AMIN. Gloria Deo, sirs, proface;
Attend me now, whilst I say grace.
For bread and salt, for grapes and malt,
For flesh and fish, and every dish;
Mutton and beef, of all meats chief;
For cow-heels, chitterlings, tripes and souse,
And other meat that's in the house;
For racks, for breasts, for legs, for loins,
For pies with raisins and with proins,
For fritters, pancakes, and for fries,
For ven'son pasties and minc'd pies;
Sheeps'-head and garlic, brawn and mustard,
Wafers, spic'd cakes, tart, and custard;
For capons, rabbits, pigs, and geese,
For apples, caraways, and cheese;
For all these and many mo:
Benedicamus Domino!

ALL. Amen.

JUS. I con you thanks; but, Sir Aminadab,
Is that your scholar! now, I promise you,
He is a toward stripling of his age.

PIP. Who? I, forsooth? yes, indeed, forsooth, I am his scholar. I would you should well think I have profited under him too; you shall hear, if he will pose me.

O. ART. I pray you, let's hear him.

AMIN. Huc ades, Pipkin.

PIP. Adsum.

AMIN. Quot casus sunt? how many cases are there?

PIP. Marry, a great many.

AMIN. Well-answer'd, a great many: there are six,
Six, a great many; 'tis well-answer'd;
And which be they?

PIP. A bow-case, a cap-case, a comb-case, a lute-case, a fiddle-case, and a candle-case.

JUS. I know them all; again, well-answer'd:
Pray God, my youngest son profit no worse.

AMIN. How many parsons are there?

PIP. I'll tell you as many as I know, if you'll give me leave to reckon them.

ANS. I prythee, do.

PIP. The parson of Fenchurch, the parson of Pancras, and the parson of———

Y. ART. Well, sir, about your business:—now will I Temper the cup my loathed wife shall drink [Aside, and exit.

O. ART. Daughter, methinks you are exceeding sad.

O. LUS. Faith, daughter, so thou art exceeding sad.

MRS ART. 'Tis but my countenance, for my heart is merry:
Mistress, were you as merry as you are welcome,
You should not sit so sadly as you do.

MRS MA. 'Tis but because I am seated in your place,
Which is frequented seldom with true mirth.

MRS ART. The fault is neither in the place nor me.

AMIN. How say you, lady?
To him you last did lie by!
All this is no more, praebibo tibi.

MRS MA. I thank you, sir. Mistress, this draught shall be
To him that loves both you and me!

MRS ART. I know your meaning.

ANS. Now to me,
If she have either love or charity.

MRS ART. Here, Master Justice, this to your grave years,
A mournful draught, God wot: half-wine, half-tears. [Aside.

JUS. Let come, my wench; here, youngsters, to you all!
You are silent: here's that will make you talk.
Wenches, methink you sit like puritans:
Never a jest abroad to make them laugh?

FUL. Sir, since you move speech of a puritan,
If you will give me audience, I will tell ye
As good a jest as ever you did hear.

O. ART. A jest? that's excellent!

JUS. Beforehand, let's prepare ourselves to laugh;
A jest is nothing, if it be not grac'd.
Now, now, I pray you, when begins this jest?

FUL. I came unto a puritan, to woo her,
And roughly did salute her with a kiss:
Away! quoth she, and rudely push'd me from her;
Brother, by yea and nay, I like not this:
And still with amorous talk she was saluted,
My artless speech with Scripture was confuted.

O. LUS. Good, good, indeed; the best that e'er I heard.

O. ART. I promise you, it was exceeding good.

FUL. Oft I frequented her abode by night,
And courted her, and spake her wond'rous fair;
But ever somewhat did offend her sight,
Either my double ruff or my long hair;
My scarf was vain, my garments hung too low,
My Spanish shoe was cut too broad at toe.

ALL. Ha, ha! the best that ever I heard!

FUL. I parted for that time, and came again,
Seeming to be conform'd in look and speech;
My shoes were sharp-toed, and my band was plain,
Close to my thigh my metamorphos'd breech;
My cloak was narrow-cap'd, my hair cut shorter;
Off went my scarf, thus march'd I to the porter.

ALL. Ha, ha! was ever heard the like?

FUL. The porter, spying me, did lead me in,
Where his fair mistress sat reading of a chapter;
Peace to this house, quoth I, and those within,
Which holy speech with admiration wrapp'd her;
And ever as I spake, and came her nigh,
Seeming divine, turn'd up the white of eye.

JUS. So, so, what then?

O. LUS. Forward, I pray, forward, sir.

FUL. I spake divinely, and I call'd her sister,
And by this means we were acquainted well:
By yea and nay, I will, quoth I, and kiss'd her.
She blush'd, and said, that long-tongu'd men would tell;
I swore[18] to be as secret as the night,
And said, on sooth, I would put out the light.

O. ART. In sooth he would! a passing-passing jest.

FUL. O, do not swear, quoth she, yet put it out,
Because I would not have you break your oath.
I felt a bed there, as I grop'd about;
In troth, quoth I, here will we rest us both.
Swear you, in troth, quoth she? had you not sworn,
I had not done't, but took it in full scorn:
Then you will come, quoth I? though I be loth,
I'll come, quoth she, be't but to keep your oath.

JUS. 'Tis very pretty; but now, when's the jest?

O. ART. O, forward, to the jest in any case.

O. LUS. I would not, for an angel, lose the jest.

FUL. Here's right the dunghill cock that finds a pearl.
To talk of wit to these, is as a man
Should cast out jewels to a herd of swine—[aside.]
Why, in the last words did consist the jest.

O. LUS. Ay, in the last words? ha, ha, ha!
It was an excellent admired jest—
To them that understood it.

Enter YOUNG MASTER ARTHUR, with two cups of wine.

JUS. It was, indeed; I must, for fashion's sake,
Say as they say; but otherwise, O, God! [Aside.
Good Master Arthur, thanks for our good cheer.

Y. ART. Gentlemen, welcome all; now hear me speak—
One special cause that mov'd me lead you hither,
Is for an ancient grudge that hath long since
Continued 'twixt my modest wife and me:
The wrongs that I have done her I recant.
In either hand I hold a sev'ral cup,
This in the right hand, wife, I drink to thee,
This in the left hand, pledge me in this draught,
Burying all former hatred; so, have to thee. [He drinks.

MRS ART. The welcom'st pledge that yet I ever took:
Were this wine poison, or did taste like gall,
The honey-sweet condition of your draught
Would make it drink like nectar: I will pledge you,
Were it the last that I should ever drink.

Y. ART. Make that account: thus, gentlemen, you see
Our late discord brought to a unity.

AMIN. Ecce, quam bonum et quam jucundum
Est habitare fratres in unum.

O. ART. My heart doth taste the sweetness of your pledge,
And I am glad to see this sweet accord.

O. LUS. Glad, quotha? there's not one among'st us,
But may be exceeding glad.

JUS. I am, ay, marry, am I, that I am.

Y. LUS. The best accord that could betide their loves.

ANS. The worst accord that could betide my love.

[All about to rise.

AMIN: What, rising, gentles? keep your place,
I will close up your stomachs with a grace;
O Domine et care Pater,
That giv'st us wine instead of water;
And from the pond and river clear
Mak'st nappy ale and good March beer;
That send'st us sundry sorts of meat,
And everything we drink or eat;
To maids, to wives, to boys, to men,
Laus Deo Sancto, Amen.

Y. ART. So, much good do ye all, and, gentlemen,
Accept your welcomes better than your cheer.

O. LUS. Nay, so we do, I'll give you thanks for all.
Come, Master Justice, you do walk our way,
And Master Arthur, and old Hugh your man;
We'll be the first [that] will strain courtesy.

JUS. God be with you all!

[Exeunt O. ART., O. LUS., and JUS. REASON.

AMIN. Proximus ego sum, I'll be the next,
And man you home; how say you, lady?

Y. ART. I pray you do, good Sir Aminadab.

MRS MA. Sir, if it be not too much trouble to you,
Let me entreat that kindness at your hands.

AMIN. Entreat! fie! no, sweet lass, command; Sic, so, nunc, now, take the upper hand.

[Exit MRS MARY escorted by AMINADAB.

Y. ART. Come, wife, this meeting was all for our sakes:
I long to see the force my poison takes. [Aside.

MRS ART. My dear-dear husband, in exchange of hate,
My love and heart shall on your service wait.

[Exeunt Y. ART., MRS ART., and PIPKIN.

ANS. So doth my love on thee; but long no more;
To her rich love thy service is too poor.

FUL. For shame, no more! you had best expostulate
Your love with every stranger; leave these sighs,
And change them to familiar conference.

Y. LUS. Trust me, the virtues of young Arthur's wife,
Her constancy, modest humility,
Her patience, and admired temperance,
Have made me love all womankind the better.

Re-enter PIPKIN.

PIP. O, my mistress! my mistress! she's dead!
She's gone! she's dead! she's gone!

ANS. What's that he says?

PIP. Out of my way! stand back, I say!
All joy from earth has fled!
She is this day as cold as clay;
My mistress she is dead!
O Lord, my mistress! my mistress! [Exit.

ANS. What, Mistress Arthur dead? my soul is vanish'd,
And the world's wonder from the world quite banish'd.
O, I am sick, my pain grows worse and worse;
I am quite struck through with this late discourse.

FUL. What! faint'st thou, man? I'll lead thee hence; for shame!
Swoon at the tidings of a woman's death!
Intolerable, and beyond all thought!
Come, my love's fool, give me thy hand to lead;
This day one body and two hearts are dead.

[Exeunt ANSELM and FULLER.

Y. LUS. But now she was as well as well might be,
And on the sudden dead; joy in excess
Hath overrun her poor disturbed soul.
I'll after, and see how Master Arthur takes it;
His former hate far more suspicious makes it.
[Exit.

Enter HUGH, and after him, PIPKIN.

HUGH. My master hath left his gloves behind where he sat in his chair, and hath sent me to fetch them; it is such an old snudge, he'll not lose the droppings of his nose.

PIP. O mistress! O Hugh! O Hugh! O mistress!
Hugh, I must needs beat thee; I am mad!
I am lunatic! I must fall upon thee: my mistress is dead!
[Beats HUGH.

HUGH. O Master Pipkin, what do you mean? what do you mean,
Master Pipkin?

PIP. O Hugh! O mistress! O mistress! O Hugh!

HUGH. O Pipkin! O God! O God! O Pipkin!

Pip. O Hugh, I am mad! bear with me, I cannot choose: O death!
O mistress! O mistress! O death! [Exit.

HUGH. Death, quotha? he hath almost made me dead with beating.

Re-enter JUSTICE REASON, OLD MASTER ARTHUR,
and OLD MASTER LUSAM.

JUS. I wonder why the knave, my man, stays thus,
And comes not back: see where the villain loiters.

Re-enter PIPKIN.

PIP. O Master Justice! Master Arthur! Master Lusam! wonder not why I thus blow and bluster; my mistress is dead! dead is my mistress! and therefore hang yourselves. O, my mistress, my mistress! [Exit.

O. ART. My son's wife dead!

O. LUS. My daughter!

Enter YOUNG MASTER ARTHUR, mourning.

JUS. Mistress Arthur! Here comes her husband.

Y. ART. O, here the woful'st husband comes alive,
No husband now; the wight, that did uphold
That name of husband, is now quite o'erthrown,
And I am left a hapless widower.

O. ART. Fain would I speak, if grief would suffer me.

O. LUS. As Master Arthur says, so say I;
If grief would let me, I would weeping die.
To be thus hapless in my aged years!
O, I would speak; but my words melt to tears.

Y. ART. Go in, go in, and view the sweetest corpse
That e'er was laid upon a mournful room;
You cannot speak for weeping sorrow's doom:
Bad news are rife, good tidings seldom come.

[Exeunt.