LADY F. Nay, keep my habit yet a little while,
Old Fauconbridge is almost at the gate,
I met him at Blackheath just at the hermit's,
And, taking me to be a merchant's wife,
Fell mightily in love, gave me his ring,
Made me protest that I would meet him here.
I told him of his lady—O, tut, quoth he,
I'll shake her up, I'll pack her out of sight.
He comes; kind Robin Hood, hold up the jest.
Enter SIR RICHARD FAUCONBRIDGE and BLOCK, talking together.
FAU. God's marry, knave, how long hath she been here?
BLO. Sir, she came but even in afore you.
FAU. A cunning quean, a very cunning quean,
Go to your business, Block; I'll meet with her.
BLO. Ah, old muttonmonger, I believe here's work towards.
[Exit.
FAU. [seeing the merchant's wife].
Do not believe her. Moll, do not believe her,
I only spake a word or two in jest,
But would not for the world have been so mad;
Do not believe her, Moll, do not believe her.
ROB. What should I not believe? what do you mean?
LADY F. Why, good Sir Richard, let me speak with you.
Alas, will you undo me? will you shame me?
Is this your promise? came I here for this?
To be a laughing-stock unto your lady?
ROB. How now, Sir Richard, what's the matter there?