MUCEDORUS. It was my will an hour ago and more,
As was my promise, for to make return;
But other business hind'red my pretence.
It is a world to see, when man appoints,
And purposely one certain thing decrees,
How many things may hinder his intent.
What one would wish, the same is farthest off.
But yet th'appointed time cannot be past,
Nor hath her presence yet prevented[180] me.
Well, here I'll stay, and expect the coming.
[They cry within, Hold him, stay him, hold!
MUCEDORUS. Some one or other is pursued, no doubt;
Perhaps some search for me; 'tis good
To doubt the worst, therefore I will be gone.
[_Exit.
Cry within, Hold him, hold him! Enter_ MOUSE, the
Clown, with a pot.
CLOWN. Hold him, hold him, hold him! here's a stir indeed. Here came hue after the crier, and I was set close at mother Nip's house, and there I call'd for three pots of ale, as 'tis the manner of us courtiers. Now, sirrah, I had taken the maidenhead of two of them—now, as I was lifting up the third to my mouth, there came, Hold him, hold him! Now I could not tell whom to catch hold on; but I am sure I caught one, perchance a may be in this pot. Well, I'll see. Mass, I cannot see him yet; well, I'll look a little further. Mass, he is a little slave, if a be here; why here's nobody. All this goes well yet; but if the old trot should come for her pot?—ay, marry, there's the matter. But I care not; I'll face her out, and call her old rusty, dusty, musty, fusty, crusty firebrand, and worse than all that, and so face her out of her pot. But soft! here she comes.
Enter the OLD WOMAN.
OLD WOMAN. Come on, you knave; where's my pot, you knave?
CLOWN. Go, look your pot; come not to me for your pot, 'twere good for you.
OLD WOMAN. Thou liest, thou knave; thou hast my pot.
CLOWN. You lie, and you say it. I, your pot? I know what I'll say.