Well, now to my walk. I am near the place where I should meet—I know not what: say I meet a thief? I must follow him, if to the gallows; say I meet a horse, or hare, or hound? still I must follow: some slow-paced beast, I hope; yet love is full of lightness in the heaviest lovers. Ha! my guide is come.
Enter the Dog.
A water-dog! I am thy first man, sculler; I go with thee; ply no other but myself. Away with the boat! land me but at Katherine’s Dock, my sweet Katherine’s Dock, and I’ll be a fare to thee. That way? nay, which way thou wilt; thou knowest the way better than I:—fine gentle cur it is, and well brought up, I warrant him. We go a-ducking, spaniel; thou shalt fetch me the ducks, pretty kind rascal.
Enter a Spirit vizarded. He throws off his mask, &c., and appears in the shape of Katherine.
Spir. Thus throw I off mine own essential horror,
And take the shape of a sweet lovely maid
Whom this fool dotes on: we can meet his folly,
But from his virtues must be runaways.
We’ll sport with him; but when we reckoning call,
We know where to receive; the witch pays for all. [The Dog barks.
Cud. Ay? is that the watchword? She’s come. [Sees the Spirit.] Well, if ever we be married, it shall be at Barking Church,[434] in memory of thee: now come behind, kind cur.
And have I met thee, sweet Kate?
I will teach thee to walk so late.
O, see, we meet in metre. [The Spirit retires as he advances.] What! dost thou trip from me? O, that I were upon my hobby-horse, I would mount after thee so nimble! “Stay, nymph, stay, nymph,” singed Apollo.
Tarry and kiss me, sweet nymph, stay;
Tarry and kiss me, sweet:
We will to Chessum Street,
And then to the house stands in the highway.
Nay, by your leave, I must embrace you. [Exit, following the Spirit.