Enter Boy.[1850]
[Boy.] O God, I have runne so far into the winde, that I have runne myselfe out of winde! They say a man is neere his end when he lackes breath; and I am at the end of my race, for I can run no farther: then here I be in my breath bed, not in my death bed. 50
[Exit.]
Enter Coomes.
Coom. They say men moyle and toile for a poore living; so I moyle and toile, and am living, I thanke God; in good time be it spoken. It had been better for me my mistresse[1851] angell had beene light, for then perhaps it had not lead me into this darknesse. Well, the divell never blesses a man better, when he purses up angels by owlight: I ranne through a hedge to take the boy, but I stuck in the ditch, and lost the boy. [Falls.] Swounds, a plague on that clod, that mowlhil, that ditch, or what the devil so ere it were, for a man cannot see what it was! Well, I would not for the prize of my sword and buckler any body should see me in this taking, for it would make me but cut off their legges for laughing at me. Well, downe I am, and downe I meane to be, because I am wearie; but to tumble downe thus, it was no parte of my meaning: then, since I am downe, here Ile rest me, and no man shall remoove me. 65
Enter Hodge.
Hodg. O, I have sport in coney, i faith! I have almost burst myselfe with laughing at mistresse Barnes. She was following of her daughter; and I, hearing her, put on my fellow Dickes sword and buckler voyce and his swounds and sbloud words, and led her such a daunce in the darke as it passes. 'Heere she is,' quoth I. 'Where'? quoth she. 'Here,' quoth I. O, it hath been a brave here and there night! but, O, what a soft natured thing the durt is! how it would endure my hard treading, and kisse my feete for acquaintance! and how courteous and mannerly were the clods[1852] to make me stumble onelie of purpose to entreate me lie downe and rest me! But now, and I could find my fellow Dicke, I would play the knave with him honestly, i faith. Well, I will grope in the darke for him, or Ile poke with my staffe, like a blinde man, to prevent a ditch. He stumbles on Dick Coomes.[1853]
Coom. Whose that, with a poxe? 80
Hod. Who art thou, with a pestilence?
Coom. Why, I am Dicke Coomes.