Math. Alas! poor wench, I sorrow for thy hap,
To see how thou art clogg'd with such a dunce.
Forsooth, my sire hath fitted me far better:
My Frenchman comes upon me with the Sa, sa, sa:
Sweet madame, pardonnez moi, I pray:
And then out goes his hand, down goes his head,
Swallows his spittle, frizzles his beard, and then to me:
"Pardonnez moi, mistress Mathea,
If I be bold to mack so bold met you,
Think it go will dat spur me dus up you:
Dan cast neit off so good and true lover,
Madame Celestura de la (I know not what)
Do oft pray to God dat me would love her:"
And then he reckons a catalogue of names,
Of such as love him, and yet cannot get him.
Mar. Nay, but your monsieur's but a mouse in cheese,
Compared with my signor. He can tell
Of lady Venus and her son blind Cupid;
Of the fair Scilla, that was lov'd of Glaucus[510]
And yet scorn'd Glaucus, and yet lov'd King Minos;
Yet Minos hated her, and yet she holp him.
And yet he scorn'd her; yet she kill'd her father
To do him good; yet he could not abide her.
Nay, he'll be bawdy, too, in his discourse,
And when he is so, he will take my hand.
And tickle the palm, wink with his one eye,
Gape with his mouth, and—
Lau. And, hold thy tongue, I prythee: here's my father.
Enter Pisaro, Alvaro, Vandal, Delion, Harvey. Walgrave, and Heigham.
Pis. Unmannerly, untaught, unnurtur'd girls!
Do I bring gentlemen, my very friends,
To feast with me, to revel at my house,
That their good likings may be set on you,
And you, like misbehav'd and sullen girls,
Turn tail to such as may advance your states I
I shall remember't, when you think I do not.
I am sorry, gentlemen, your cheer's no better;
But what did want at board, excuse me for,
And you shall have amends be made in bed.
To them, friends, to them; they are none but yours:
For you I bred them, for you brought them up,[511]
For you I kept them, and you shall have them:
I hate all others that resort to them.
Then rouse your bloods, be bold with what's your own,
For I and mine (my friends) be yours or none.
Enter Frisco and Anthony.
Fris. Gi' ye[512] good-morrow, sir. I have brought you monsieur Mouse here, to teach my young mistresses: I assure you (forsooth) he is a brave Frenchman.
Pis. Welcome, friend, welcome. My man (I think)
Hath at the full resolv'd thee of my will.
Monsieur Delion, I pray question him:
I tell you, sir, 'tis only for your sake
That I do mean to entertain this fellow.
Anth. A bots of all ill luck! how came these here?
Now am I pos'd, except the wenches help me:
I have no French to flap them in the mouth.
Har. To see the luck of a good fellow: poor Anthony
Could ne'er have sorted out a worser time.
Now will the pack of all our sly devices
Be quite laid ope, as one undoes an oyster,
Frank Heigham and mad Ned, fall to your meuses,[513]
To help poor Anthony now at a pinch,
Or all our market will be spoil'd and marr'd.