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.