THE PROLOGUE |
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What creature is in health, either young or old, |
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But some mirth with modesty will be glad to use? |
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As we in this Interlude shall now unfold, |
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Wherein all scurrility we utterly refuse, |
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Avoiding such mirth wherein is abuse: |
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Knowing nothing more commendable for a man's recreation |
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Than Mirth which is used in an honest fashion: |
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For Mirth prolongeth life, and causeth health, |
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Mirth recreates our spirits and voideth pensiveness, |
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Mirth increaseth amity, not hindering our wealth, |
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Mirth is to be used both of more and less, |
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Being mixed with virtue in decent comeliness, |
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As we trust no good nature can gainsay the same: |
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Which mirth we intend to use, avoiding all blame. |
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The wise Poets long time heretofore, |
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Under merry Comedies secrets did declare, |
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Wherein was contained very virtuous lore, |
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With mysteries and forewarnings very rare. |
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Such to write neither Plautus nor Terence did spare, |
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Which among the learned at this day bears the bell: |
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These with such other therein did excel. |
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Our Comedy or Interlude which we intend to play |
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Is named Roister Doister indeed. |
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Which against the vain-glorious doth inveigh, |
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Whose humour the roisting sort continually doth feed. |
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Thus by your patience we intend to proceed |
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In this our Interlude by God's leave and grace, |
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And here I take my leave for a certain space. |
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FINIS |
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ACT I |
SCENE I |
Mathew Merygreeke. He entereth singing. |
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As long liveth the merry man (they say) |
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As doth the sorry man, and longer by a day. |
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Yet the grasshopper, for all his summer piping, |
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Starveth in winter with hungry griping, |
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Therefore another said saw doth men advise, |
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That they be together both merry and wise. |
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This lesson must I practise, or else ere long, |
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With me, Mathew Merygreeke, it will be wrong. |
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Indeed men so call me, for by him that us bought, |
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Whatever chance betide, I can take no thought, |
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Yet wisdom would that I did myself bethink |
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Where to be provided this day of meat and drink: |
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For know ye, that for all this merry note of mine, |
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He might appose me now that should ask where I dine. |
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My living lieth here and there, of God's grace, |
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Sometime with this good man, sometime in that place, |
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Sometime Lewis Loytrer biddeth me come near, |
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Somewhiles Watkin Waster maketh us good cheer, |
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Sometime Davy Diceplayer, when he hath well cast, |
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Keepeth revel rout as long as it will last, |
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Sometime Tom Titivile maketh us a feast, |
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Sometime with Sir Hugh Pye I am a bidden guest, |
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Sometime at Nicol Neverthrive's I get a sop, |
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Sometime I am feasted with Bryan Blinkinsoppe, |
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Sometime I hang on Hankyn Hoddydodie's sleeve, |
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But this day on Ralph Roister Doister's by his leave. |
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For truly of all men he is my chief banker |
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Both for meat and money, and my chief shoot-anchor. |
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For, sooth Roister Doister in that he doth say, |
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And require what ye will ye shall have no nay. |
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But now of Roister Doister somewhat to express, |
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That ye may esteem him after his worthiness, |
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In these twenty towns and seek them throughout, |
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Is not the like stock, whereon to graff a lout. |
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All the day long is he facing and craking |
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Of his great acts in fighting and fraymaking: |
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But when Roister Doister is put to his proof, |
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To keep the Queen's peace is more for his behoof. |
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If any woman smile or cast on him an eye, |
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Up is he to the hard ears in love by and by, |
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And in all the hot haste must she be his wife. |
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Else farewell his good days, and farewell his life, |
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Master Ralph Roister Doister is but dead and gone |
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Except she on him take some compassion, |
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Then chief of counsel must be Mathew Merygreeke, |
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"What if I for marriage to such an one seek?" |
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Then must I sooth it, what ever it is: |
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For what he sayeth or doeth cannot be amiss. |
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Hold up his yea and nay, be his nown white son, |
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Praise and rouse him well, and ye have his heart won, |
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For so well liketh he his own fond fashions |
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That he taketh pride of false commendations. |
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But such sport have I with him as I would not lese, |
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Though I should be bound to live with bread and cheese. |
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For exalt him, and have him as ye lust indeed: |
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Yea, to hold his finger in a hole for a need. |
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I can with a word make him fain or loth, |
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I can with as much make him pleased or wroth, |
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I can when I will make him merry and glad, |
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I can when me lust make him sorry and sad, |
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I can set him in hope and eke in despair, |
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I can make him speak rough and make him speak fair. |
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But I marvel I see him not all this same day, |
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I will seek him out: But lo! he cometh this way. |
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I have yond espied him sadly coming, |
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And in love for twenty pound, by his gloming. |
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SCENE II |
Ralph Roister Doister. Mathew Merygreeke. |
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R. Roister. Come death when thou wilt, I am weary of my life. |
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M. Mery. I told you, I, we should woo another wife. |
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R. Roister. Why did God make me such a goodly person? |
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M. Mery. He is in by the week, we shall have sport anon. |
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R. Roister. And where is my trusty friend, Mathew Merygreeke? |
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M. Mery. I will make as I saw him not, he doth me seek. |
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R. Roister. I have him espied me-thinketh, yond is he. |
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Ho! Mathew Merygreeke, my friend, a word with thee. |
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M. Mery. I will not hear him, but make as I had haste, |
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Farewell all my good friends, the time away doth waste. |
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And the tide, they say, tarrieth for no man. |
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R. Roister. Thou must with thy good counsel help me if thou can. |
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M. Mery. God keep thee, worshipful Master Roister Doister, |
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And fare well the lusty Master Roister Doister. |
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R. Roister. I must needs speak with thee a word or twain. |
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M. Mery. Within a month or two I will be here again. |
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Negligence in great affairs, ye know, may mar all. |
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R. Roister. Attend upon me now, and well reward thee I shall. |
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M. Mery. I have take my leave, and the tide is well spent. |
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R. Roister. I die except thou help, I pray thee be content. |
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Do thy part well now, and ask what thou wilt, |
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For without thy aid my matter is all spilt. |
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M. Mery. Then to serve your turn I will some pains take, |
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And let all mine own affairs alone for your sake. |
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R. Roister. My whole hope and trust resteth only in thee. |
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M. Mery. Then can ye not do amiss, whatever it be. |
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R. Roister. Gramercies, Merygreeke, most bound to thee I am. |
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M. Mery. But up with that heart, and speak out like a ram. |
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Ye speak like a capon that had the cough now: |
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Be of good cheer, anon ye shall do well enow. |
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R. Roister. Upon thy comfort, I will all things well handle. |
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M. Mery. So, lo! that is a breast to blow out a candle. |
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But what is this great matter, I would fain know? |
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We shall find remedy therefore I trow. |
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Do ye lack money ? ye know mine old offers, |
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Ye have always a key to my purse and coffers. |
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R. Roister. I thank thee: had ever man such a friend? |
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M. Mery. Ye give unto me: I must needs to you lend. |
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R. Roister. Nay, I have money plenty all things to discharge. |
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M. Mery. That knew I right well when I made offer so large. |
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R. Roister. But it is no such matter. |
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M. Mery. What is it then? |
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Are ye in danger of debt to any man? |
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If ye be, take no thought nor be not afraid. |
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Let them hardly take thought how they shall be paid. |
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R. Roister. Tut, I owe nought. |
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M. Mery. What then? fear ye imprisonment? |
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R. Roister. No. |
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M. Mery. No, I wist ye offend not, so to be shent. |
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But if ye had, the Tower could not you so hold, |
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But to break out at all times ye would be bold. |
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What is it? hath any man threatened you to beat? |
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R. Roister. What is he that durst have put me in that heat? |
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He that beateth me by his arms shall well find, |
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That I will not be far from him nor run behind. |
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M. Mery. That thing know all men ever since ye overthrew |
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The fellow of the lion which Hercules slew. |
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But what is it then? |
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R. Roister. Of love I make my moan. |
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M. Mery. Ah, this foolish love, wilt ne'er let us alone? |
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But because ye were refused the last day, |
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Ye said ye would ne'er more be entangled that way. |
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I would meddle no more, since I find all so unkind. |
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R. Roister. Yea, but I cannot so put love out of my mind. |
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M. Mery. But is your love, tell me first, in any wise, |
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In the way of marriage, or of merchandise? |
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If it may otherwise than lawful be found, |
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Ye get none of my help for a hundred pound. |
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R. Roister. No, by my troth, I would have her to my wife. |
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M. Mery. Then are ye a good man, and God save your life! |
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And what or who is she, with whom ye are in love? |
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R. Roister. A woman whom I know not by what means to move. |
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M. Mery. Who is it? |
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R. Roister. A woman yond. |
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M. Mery. What is her name? |
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R. Roister. Her yonder. |
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M. Mery. Whom? |
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R. Roister. Mistress, ah. |
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M. Mery. Fie, fie, for shame! |
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Love ye, and know not whom? but her yond, a woman, |
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We shall then get you a wife, I cannot tell when. |
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R. Roister. The fair woman, that supped with us yesternight, |
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And I heard her name twice or thrice, and had it right. |
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M. Mery. Yea, ye may see ye ne'er take me to good cheer with you, |
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If ye had, I could have told you her name now. |
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R. Roister. I was to blame indeed, but the next time perchance: |
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And she dwelleth in this house. |
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M. Mery. What, Christian Custance? |
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R. Roister. Except I have her to my wife, I shall run mad. |
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M. Mery. Nay, unwise perhaps, but I warrant you for mad. |
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R. Roister. I am utterly dead unless I have my desire. |
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M. Mery. Where be the bellows that blew this sudden fire? |
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R. Roister. I hear she is worth a thousand pound and more. |
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M. Mery. Yea, but learn this one lesson of me afore: |
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An hundred pound of marriage-money, doubtless, |
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Is ever thirty pound sterling, or somewhat less, |
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So that her thousand pound, if she be thrifty, |
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Is much near about two hundred and fifty, |
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Howbeit wooers and widows are never poor. |
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R. Roister. Is she a widow? I love her better therefore. |
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M. Mery. But I hear she hath made promise to another. |
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R. Roister. He shall go without her, and he were my brother. |
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M. Mery. I have heard say, I am right well advised, |
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That she hath to Gawyn Goodluck promised. |
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R. Roister. What is that Gawyn Goodluck? |
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M. Mery. A merchant-man. |
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R. Roister. Shall he speed afore me? nay, sir, by sweet Saint Anne. |
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Ah, sir, Backare, quod Mortimer to his sow. |
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I will have her mine own self I make God a vow. |
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For I tell thee, she is worth a thousand pound. |
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M. Mery. Yet a fitter wife for your maship might be found: |
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Such a goodly man as you might get one with land, |
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Besides pounds of gold a thousand and a thousand, |
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And a thousand, and a thousand, and a thousand, |
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And so to the sum of twenty hundred thousand, |
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Your most goodly personage is worthy of no less. |
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R. Roister. I am sorry God made me so comely, doubtless. |
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For that maketh me each where so highly favoured, |
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And all women on me so enamoured. |
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M. Mery. Enamoured, quod you? have ye spied out that? |
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Ah, sir, marry, now, I see you know what is what. |
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Enamoured, ka? marry, sir, say that again, |
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But I thought not ye had marked it so plain. |
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R. Roister. Yes, each where they gaze all upon me and stare. |
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M. Mery. Yea, malkyn, I warrant you as much as they dare. |
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And ye will not believe what they say in the street, |
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When your maship passeth by, all such as I meet, |
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That sometimes I can scarce find what answer to make. |
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Who is this (saith one) Sir Launcelot du Lake? |
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Who is this, great Guy of Warwick, saith another? |
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No (say I) it is the thirteenth Hercules brother. |
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Who is this? noble Hector of Troy, saith the third? |
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No, but of the same nest (say I) it is a bird. |
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Who is this? great Goliah, Sampson, or Colbrand? |
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No (say I) but it is a Brute of the Alie land. |
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Who is this? great Alexander? or Charles le Maigne? |
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No, it is the tenth worthy, say I to them again: |
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I know not if I said well. |
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R. Roister. Yes, for so I am. |
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M. Mery. Yea, for there were but nine worthies before ye came. |
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To some others, the third Cato I do you call. |
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And so as well as I can I answer them all. |
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"Sir, I pray you, what lord or great gentleman is this?" |
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Master Ralph Roister Doister, dame (say I), ywis. |
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O Lord (saith she then) what a goodly man it is, |
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Would Christ I had such a husband as he is! |
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0 Lord (say some) that the sight of his face we lack: |
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It is enough for you (say I) to see his back. |
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His face is for ladies of high and noble parages, |
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With whom he hardly 'scapeth great marriages. |
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With much more than this, and much otherwise. |
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R. Roister. I can thee thank that thou canst such answers devise: |
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But I perceive thou dost me throughly know. |
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M. Mery. I mark your manners for mine own learning, I trow. |
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But such is your beauty, and such are your acts, |
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Such is your personage, and such are your facts, |
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That all women fair and foul, more and less, |
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That eye you, they lub you, they talk of you doubtless. |
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Your p[l]easant look maketh them all merry, |
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Ye pass not by, but they laugh till they be weary, |
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Yea, and money could I have, the truth to tell, |
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Of many, to bring you that way where they dwell. |
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R. Roister. Merygreeke, for this thy reporting well of me - |
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M. Mery. What should I else, sir? it is my duty, pardee. |
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R. Roister. I promise thou shalt not lack, while I have a groat. |
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M. Mery. Faith, sir, and I ne'er had more need of a new coat. |
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R. Roister. Thou shalt have one tomorrow, and gold for to spend. |
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M. Mery. Then I trust to bring the day to a good end. |
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For as for mine own part having money enow, |
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I could live only with the remembrance of you. |
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But now to your widow whom you love so hot. |
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R. Roister. By Cock, thou sayest truth, I had almost forgot. |
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M. Mery. What if Christian Custance will not have you, what? |
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R. Roister. Have me? yes, I warrant you, never doubt of that, |
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I know she loveth me, but she dare not speak. |
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M. Mery. Indeed, meet it were some body should it break. |
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R. Roister. She looked on me twenty times yesternight, |
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And laughed so. |
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M. Mery. That she could not sit upright. |
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R. Roister. No, faith, could she not. |
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M. Mery. No, even such a thing I cast. |
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R. Roister. But for wooing, thou knowest, women are shamefast. |
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But and she knew my mind, I know she would be glad, |
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And think it the best chance that ever she had. |
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M. Mery. To her then like a man, and be bold forth to start, |
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Wooers never speed well, that have a false heart. |
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R. Roister. What may I best do ? |
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M. Mery. Sir, remain ye awhile here. |
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Ere long one or other of her house will appear. |
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Ye know my mind. |
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R. Roister. Yea, now hardly let me alone. |
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M. Mery. In the meantime, sir, if you please, I will home, |
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And call your musicians, for in this your case |
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It would set you forth, and all your wooing grace. |
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Ye may not lack your instruments to play and sing. |
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R. Roister. Thou knowest I can do that. |
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M. Mery. As well as anything. |
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Shall I go call your folks, that ye may show a cast? |
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R. Roister. Yea, run, I beseech thee, in all possible haste. |
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M. Mery. I go. [Exeat. |
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R. Roister. Yea, for I love singing out of measure, |
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It comforteth my spirits and doth me great pleasure. |
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But who cometh forth yond from my sweetheart Custance? |
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My matter frameth well, this is a lucky chance. |
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SCENE III |
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Madge Mumblecrust, spinning on the distaff. Tibet Talkapace, sewing. Annot Alyface, knitting. R. Roister. |
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M. Mumble. If this distaff were spun, Margerie Mumblecrust - |
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Tib. Talk. Where good stale ale is will drink no water I trust. |
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M. Mumble. Dame Custance hath promised us good ale and white bread. |
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Tib. Talk. If she keep not promise, I will beshrew her head: |
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But it will be stark night before I shall have done. |
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R. Roister. I will stand here awhile, and talk with them anon. |
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I hear them speak of Custance, which doth my heart good. |
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To hear her name spoken doth even comfort my blood. |
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M. Mumble. Sit down to your work, Tibet, like a good girl. |
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Tib. Talk. Nurse, meddle you with your spindle and your whirl, |
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No haste but good, Madge Mumblecrust, for whip and whur, |
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The old proverb doth say, never made good fur. |
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M. Mumble. Well, ye will sit down to your work anon, I trust. |
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Tib. Talk. Soft fire maketh sweet malt, good Madge Mumblecrust. |
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M. Mumble. And sweet malt maketh jolly good ale for the nones. |
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Tib. Talk. Which will slide down the lane without any bones. |
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[Cantet. |
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Old brown bread crusts must have much good mumbling. |
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But good ale down your throat hath good easy tumbling. |
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R. Roister. The jolliest wench that ere I heard, little mouse, |
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May I not rejoice that she shall dwell in my house? |
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Tib. Talk. So, sirrah, now this gear beginneth for to frame. |
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M. Mumble. Thanks to God, though your work stand still, your tongue is not lame. |
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Tib. Talk. And though our teeth be gone, both so sharp and so fine, |
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Yet your tongue can renne on patins as well as mine. |
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M. Mumble. Ye were not for nought named Tib Talkapace. |
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Tib. Talk. Doth my talk grieve you? Alack, God save your grace. |
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M. Mumble. I hold a groat, ye will drink anon for this gear. |
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Tib. Talk. And I will pray you the stripes for me to bear. |
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M. Mumble. I hold a penny, ye will drink without a cup. |
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Tib. Talk. Wherein so e'er ye drink, I wot ye drink all up. |
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Enter Annot. |
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An. Alyface. By Cock, and well sewed, my good Tibet Talkapace. |
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Tib. Talk. And e'en as well knit, my nown Annot Alyface. |
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R. Roister. See what a sort she keepeth that must be my wife. |
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Shall not I, when I have her, lead a merry life? |
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Tib. Talk. Welcome, my good wench, and sit here by me just. |
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An. Alyface. And how doth our old beldame here, Madge Mumblecrust? |
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Tib. Talk. Chide, and find faults, and threaten to complain. |
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An. Alyface. To make us poor girls shent to her is small gain. |
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M. Mumble. I did neither chide, nor complain, nor threaten. |
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R. Roister. It would grieve my heart to see one of them beaten. |
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M. Mumble. I did nothing but bid her work and hold her peace. |
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Tib. Talk. So would I, if you could your clattering cease: |
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But the devil cannot make old trot hold her tongue. |
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An. Alyface. Let all these matters pass, and we three sing a song, |
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So shall we pleasantly both the time beguile now, |
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And eke dispatch all our works ere we can tell how. |
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Tib. Talk. I shrew them that say nay, and that shall not be I. |
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M. Mumble. And I am well content. |
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Tib. Talk. Sing on then, by and by. |
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R. Roister. And I will not away, but listen to their song, |
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Yet Merygreeke and my folks tarry very long. |
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Tib., An., and Margerie, do sing here. |
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Pipe merry Annot, etc. |
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Trilla, trilla, trillarie. |
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Work Tibet, work Annot, work Margerie. |
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Sew Tibet, knit Annot, spin Margerie. |
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Let us see who shall win the victory. |
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Tib. Talk. This sleeve is not willing to be sewed, I trow. |
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A small thing might make me all in the ground to throw. |
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Then they sing again. |
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Pipe merry Annot, etc. |
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Trilla, trilla, trillarie. |
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What Tibet, what Annot, what Margerie. |
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Ye sleep, but we do not, that shall we try. |
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Your ringers be numbed, our work will not lie. |
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Tib. Talk. If ye do so again, well I would advise you nay. |
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In good sooth one stop more, and I make holy day. |
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They sing the third time. |
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Pipe merry Annot, etc. |
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Trilla, trilla, trillarie. |
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Now Tibet, now Annot, now Margerie. |
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Now whippet apace for the maistry, |
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But it will not be, our mouth is so dry. |
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Tib. Talk. Ah, each finger is a thumb to-day methink, |
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I care not to let all alone, choose it swim or sink. |
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They sing the fourth time. |
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Pipe merry Annot, etc. |
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Trilla, trilla, trillarie. |
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When Tibet, when Annot, when Margerie. |
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I will not, I cannot, no more can I. |
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Then give we all over, and there let it lie. |
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[Let her cast down her work. |
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Tib. Talk. There it lieth, the worst is but a curried coat, |
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Tut, I am used thereto, I care not a groat. |
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An. Alyface. Have we done singing since? then will I in again, |
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Here I found you, and here I leave both twain. [Exeat. |
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M. Mumble. And I will not be long after. Tib Talkapace! |
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Tib. Talk. What is the matter? |
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M. Mumble. Yond stood a man all this space |
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And hath heard all that ever we spake together. |
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Tib. Talk. Marry, the more lout he for his coming hither. |
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And the less good he can to listen maidens talk. |
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I care not and I go bid him hence for to walk: |
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It were well done to know what he maketh here away. |
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R. Roister. Now might I speak to them, if I wist what to say. |
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M. Mumble. Nay, we will go both off, and see what he is. |
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R. Roister. One that hath heard all your talk and singing i-wis. |
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Tib. Talk. The more to blame you, a good thrifty husband |
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Would elsewhere have had some better matters in hand. |
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R. Roister. I did it for no harm, but for good love I bear |
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To your dame mistress Custance, I did your talk hear. |
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And, mistress nurse, I will kiss you for acquaintance. |
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M. Mumble. I come anon, sir. |
350 |
Tib. Talk. Faith, I would our dame Custance |
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Saw this gear. |
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M. Mumble. I must first wipe all clean, yea, I must. |
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Tib. Talk. Ill 'chieve it, doting fool, but it must be cust. |
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M. Mumble. God yelde you, sir; chad not so much, i-chotte not when, |
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Ne'er since chwas bore chwine, of such a gay gentleman. |
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R. Roister. I will kiss you too, maiden, for the good will I bear you. |
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Tib. Talk. No, forsooth, by your leave, ye shall not kiss me. |
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R. Roister. Yes, be not afeard, I do not disdain you a whit. |
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Tib. Talk. Why should I fear you? I have not so little wit, |
|
Ye are but a man I know very well. |
|
R. Roister. Why then? |
360 |
Tib. Talk. Forsooth for I will not, I use not to kiss men. |
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R. Roister. I would fain kiss you too, good maiden, if I might. |
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Tib. Talk. What should that need? |
|
R. Roister. But to honour you by this light. |
|
I use to kiss all them that I love, to God I vow. |
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Tib. Talk. Yea, sir? I pray you, when did ye last kiss your cow? |
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R. Roister. Ye might be proud to kiss me, if ye were wise. |
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Tib. Talk. What promotion were therein? |
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R. Roister. Nurse is not so nice. |
|
Tib. Talk. Well, I have not been taught to kissing and licking. |
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R. Roister. Yet I thank you, mistress nurse, ye made no sticking. |
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M. Mumble. I will not stick for a kiss with such a man as you. |
370 |
Tib. Talk. They that lust: I will again to my sewing now. |
Enter Annot. |
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An. Alyface. Tidings, ho! tidings! dame Custance greeteth you well. |
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R. Roister. Whom? me? |
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An. Alyface. You, sir? No, sir I I do no such tale tell. |
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R. Roister. But and she knew me here. |
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An. Alyface. Tibet Talkapace, |
|
Your mistress Custance and mine, must speak with your grace. |
|
Tib. Talk. With me? |
|
An. Alyface. Ye must come in to her, out of all doubts. |
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Tib. Talk. And my work not half done? A mischief on all louts. [Ex. am. |
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R. Roister. Ah, good sweet nurse! |
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M. Mumble. A good sweet gentleman. |
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R. Roister. What? |
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M. Mumble. Nay, I cannot tell, sir, but what thing would you? |
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R. Roister. How doth sweet Custance, my heart of gold, tell me how? |
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M. Mumble. She doth very well, sir, and command me to you. |
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R. Roister. To me? |
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M. Mumble. Yea, to you, sir. |
381 |
R. Roister. To me? Nurse, tell me plain, |
|
To me? |
|
M. Mumble. Ye. |
|
R. Roister. That word maketh me alive again. |
|
M. Mumble. She command me to one last day, whoe'er it was. |
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R. Roister. That was e'en to me and none other, by the Mass. |
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M. Mumble. I cannot tell you surely, but one it was. |
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R. Roister. It was I and none other: this cometh to good pass. |
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I promise thee, nurse, I favour her. |
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M. Mumble. E'en so, sir. |
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R. Roister. Bid her sue to me for marriage. |
|
M. Mumble. E'en so, sir. |
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R. Roister. And surely for thy sake she shall speed. |
|
M. Mumble. E'en so, sir. |
|
R. Roister. I shall be contented to take her. |
390 |
M. Mumble. E'en so, sir. |
|
R. Roister. But at thy request and for thy sake. |
|
M. Mumble. E'en so, sir. |
|
R. Roister. And, come, hark in thine ear what to say. |
|
M. Mumble. E'en so, sir. |
|
[Here let him tell her a great long tale in her ear. |
|
|
|
|
SCENE IV |
Mathew Merygreeke. Dobinet Doughtie. Harpax. Ralph Roister. Margerie Mumblecrust. |
|
|
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M. Mery. Come on, sirs, apace, and quit yourselves like men, |
|
Your pains shall be rewarded. |
|
D. Dough. But I wot not when. |
|
M. Mery. Do your master worship as ye have done in time past. |
|
D. Dough. Speak to them: of mine office he shall have a cast. |
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M. Mery. Harpax, look that thou do well too, and thy fellow. |
|
Harpax. I warrant, if he will mine example follow. |
|
M. Mery. Curtsy, whoresons, douk you and crouch at every word. |
400 |
D. Dough. Yes, whether our master speak earnest or bord. |
|
M. Mery. For this lieth upon his preferment indeed. |
|
D. Dough. Oft is he a wooer, but never doth he speed. |
|
M. Mery. But with whom is he now so sadly rounding yond? |
|
D. Dough. With Nobs nicebecetur miserere fond. |
|
M. Mery. God be at your wedding, be ye sped already? |
|
I did not suppose that your love was so greedy. |
|
I perceive now ye have chose of devotion, |
|
And joy have ye, lady, of your promotion. |
|
R. Roister. Tush, fool, thou art deceived, this is not she. |
|
M. Mery. Well, mock much of her, and keep her well, I'vise ye. |
411 |
I will take no charge of such a fair piece keeping. |
|
M. Mumble. What aileth this fellow? he driveth me to weeping. |
|
M. Mery. What, weep on the wedding day? Be merry, woman, |
|
Though I say it, ye have chose a good gentleman. |
|
R. Roister. Kocks nowns, what meanest thou, man? tut, a whistle. |
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M. Mery. Ah, sir, be good to her; she is but a gristle. |
|
Ah, sweet lamb and coney! |
|
R. Roister. Tut, thou art deceived. |
|
M. Mery. Weep no more, lady, ye shall be well received. |
|
Up with some merry noise, sirs, to bring home the bride. |
|
R. Roister. Gogs arms, knave, art thou mad? |
420 |
I tell thee thou art wide. |
|
M. Mery. Then ye intend by night to have her home brought. |
|
R. Roister. I tell thee no. |
|
M. Mery. How then? |
|
R. Roister. 'Tis neither meant ne thought. |
|
M. Mery. What shall we then do with her? |
|
R. Roister. Ah, foolish harebrain, |
|
This is not she. |
|
M. Mery. No, is? why then unsaid again. |
|
And what young girl is this with your maship so bold? |
|
R. Roister. A girl? |
|
M. Mery. Yea. I dare say, scarce yet three score year old. |
|
R. Roister. This same is the fair widow's nurse, of whom ye wot. |
|
M. Mery. Is she but a nurse of a house? hence home, old trot, |
|
Hence at once. |
|
R. Roister. No, no. |
|
M. Mery. What, an please your maship, |
430 |
A nurse talk so homely with one of your worship? |
|
R. Roister. I will have it so: it is my pleasure and will. |
|
M. Mery. Then I am content. Nurse, come again, tarry still. |
|
R. Roister. What, she will help forward this my suit for her part. |
|
M. Mery. Then is't mine own pigs nie, and blessing on my heart. |
|
R. Roister. This is our best friend, man. |
|
M. Mery. Then teach her what to say, |
|
M. Mumble. I am taught already. |
|
M. Mery. Then go, make no delay. |
|
R. Roister. Yet hark, one word in thine ear. |
|
M. Mery. Back, sirs, from his tail. |
|
R. Roister. Back, villains, will ye be privy of my counsel? |
|
M. Mery. Back, sirs, so: I told you afore ye would be shent. |
|
R. Roister. She shall have the first day a whole peck of argent. |
|
M. Mumble. A peck? Nomine patris, have ye so much spare? |
442 |
R. Roister. Yea, and a cart-load thereto, or else were it bare, |
|
Besides other movables, household stuff, and land. |
|
M. Mumble. Have ye lands too? |
|
R. Roister. An hundred marks. |
|
M. Mery. Yea, a thousand. |
|
M. Mumble. And have ye cattle too? and sheep too? |
|
R. Roister. Yea, a few. |
|
M. Mery. He is ashamed the number of them to show. |
|
E'en round about him, as many thousand sheep goes, |
|
As he and thou, and I too, have fingers and toes. |
|
M. Mumble. And how many years old be you ? |
|
R. Roister. Forty at least. |
|
M. Mery. Yea, and thrice forty to them. |
450 |
R. Roister. Nay, now thou dost jest. |
|
I am not so old, thou misreckonest my years. |
|
M. Mery. I know that: but my mind was on bullocks and steers. |
|
M. Mumble. And what shall I show her your mastership's name is? |
|
R. Roister. Nay, she shall make suit ere she know that, i-wis. |
|
M. Mumble. Yet let me somewhat know. |
|
M. Mery. This is he, understand, |
|
That killed the blue spider in Blanchepowder land. |
|
M. Mumble. Yea, Jesus, William zee law, did he zo law? |
|
M. Mery. Yea, and the last elephant that ever he saw, |
|
As the beast passed by, he start out of a busk, |
460 |
And e'en with pure strength of arms plucked out his great tusk. |
|
M. Mumble. Jesus, nomine patris, what a thing was that? |
|
R. Roister. Yea, but, Merygreeke, one thing thou hast forgot. |
|
M. Mery. What? |
|
R. Roister. Of th' other elephant. |
|
M. Mery. Oh, him that fled away. |
|
R. Roister. Yea. |
|
M. Mery. Yea, he knew that his match was in place that day. |
|
Tut, he bet the king of crickets on Christmas day, |
|
That he crept in a hole, and not a word to say. |
|
M. Mumble. A sore man, by zembletee. |
|
M. Mery. Why, he wrung a club |
|
Once in a fray out of the hand of Belzebub. |
|
R. Roister. And how when Mumfision? |
|
M. Mery. Oh, your coustreling |
470 |
Bore the lantern a-field so before the gozeling. |
|
Nay that is too long a matter now to be told: |
|
Never ask his name, nurse, I warrant thee, be bold. |
|
He conquered in one day from Rome to Naples, |
|
And won towns, nurse, as fast as thou canst make apples. |
|
M. Mumble. 0 Lord, my heart quaketh for fear: he is too sore. |
|
R. Roister. Thou makest her too much afeard, Merygreeke, no more. |
|
This tale would fear my sweetheart Custance right evil. |
|
M. Mery. Nay, let her take him, nurse, and fear not the devil. |
|
But thus is our song dashed. Sirs, ye may home again. |
|
R. Roister. No, shall they not. I charge you all here to remain: |
481 |
The villain slaves, a whole day ere they can be found. |
|
M. Mery. Couch on your marybones, whoresons, down to the ground. |
|
Was it meet he should tarry so long in one place |
|
Without harmony of music, or some solace? |
|
Whoso hath such bees as your master in his head, |
|
Had need to have his spirits with music to be fed. |
|
By your mastership's licence. |
|
R. Roister. What is that? a mote? |
|
M. Mery. No, it was a fowl's feather had light on your coat. |
|
R. Roister. I was nigh no feathers since I came from my bed. |
|
M. Mery. No, sir, it was a hair that was fall from your head. |
|
R. Roister. My men come when it please them. |
|
M. Mery. By your leave. |
491 |
R. Roister. What is that? |
|
M. Mery. Your gown was foul spotted with the foot of a gnat. |
|
R. Roister. Their master to offend they are nothing afeard. |
|
What now ? |
|
M. Mery. A lousy hair from your mastership's beard. |
|
Omnes famuli. And sir, for nurse's sake, pardon this one offence. |
|
We shall not after this show the like negligence. |
|
R. Roister. I pardon you this once, and come, sing ne'er the worse. |
|
M. Mery. How like you the goodness of this gentleman, nurse? |
|
M. Mumble. God save his mastership that so can his men forgive. |
500 |
And I will hear them sing ere I go, by his leave. |
|
R. Roister. Marry and thou shalt, wench: come, we two will dance. |
|
M. Mumble. Nay, I will by mine own self foot the song perchance. |
|
R. Roister. Go to it, sirs, lustily. |
|
M. Mumble. Pipe up a merry note, |
|
Let me hear it played, I will foot it for a groat. [Cantent. |
|
R. Roister. Now, nurse, take this same letter here to thy mistress. |
|
And as my trust is in thee, ply my business. |
|
M. Mumble. It shall be done. |
|
M. Mery. Who made it? |
|
R. Roister. I wrote it each whit. |
|
M. Mery. Then needs it no mending. |
|
R. Roister. No, no. |
|
M. Mery. No, I know your wit. |
|
I warrant it well. |
|
M. Mumble. It shall be delivered. |
510 |
But if ye speed, shall I be considered? |
|
M. Mery. Whough! dost thou doubt of that? |
|
Madge. What shall I have? |
|
M. Mery. An hundred times more than thou canst devise to crave. |
|
M. Mumble. Shall I have some new gear? for my old is all spent. |
|
M. Mery. The worst kitchen wench shall go in ladies' raiment. |
|
M. Mumble. Yea? |
|
M. Mery. And the worst drudge in the house shall go better |
|
Than your mistress doth now. |
|
Mar. Then I trudge with your letter. |
|
R. Roister. Now, may I repose me: Custance is mine own. |
|
Let us sing and play homeward that it may be known. |
|
M. Mery. But are you sure that your letter is well enough? |
|
R. Roister. I wrote it myself. |
520 |
M. Mery. Then sing we to dinner. |
|
[Here they sing, and go out singing. |
|
|
|
|
SCENE V |
Christian Custance. Margerie Mumblecrust. |
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|
|
C. Custance. Who took thee this letter, Margerie Mumblecrust? |
|
M. Mumble. A lusty gay bachelor took it me of trust, |
|
And if ye seek to him he will love your doing. |
|
C. Custance. Yea, but where learned he that manner of wooing? |
|
M. Mumble. If to sue to him, you will any pains take, |
|
He will have you to his wife (he saith) for my sake. |
|
C. Custance. Some wise gentleman, belike. I am bespoken: |
|
And I thought verily this had been some token |
|
From my dear spouse Gawin Goodluck, whom when him please, |
10 |
God luckily send home to both our hearts' ease. |
|
M. Mumble. A joyly man it is, I wot well by report, |
|
And would have you to him for marriage resort; |
|
Best open the writing, and see what it doth speak. |
|
C. Custance. At this time, nurse, I will neither read ne break. |
|
M. Mumble. He promised to give you a whole peck of gold. |
|
C. Custance. Perchance, lack of a pint when it shall be all told. |
|
M. Mumble. I would take a gay rich husband, and I were you. |
|
C. Custance. In good sooth, Madge, e'en so would I, if I were thou. |
|
But no more of this fond talk now, let us go in, |
20 |
And see thou no more move me folly to begin. |
|
Nor bring me no more letters for no man's pleasure, |
|
But thou know from whom. |
|
M. Mumble. I warrant ye shall be sure. |
|
|
|
|
ACT II |
SCENE I |
Dobinet Doughtie. |
|
|
|
D. Dough. Where is the house I go to, before or behind? |
|
I know not where nor when nor how I shall it find. |
|
If I had ten men's bodies and legs and strength, |
|
This trotting that I have must needs lame me at length |
|
And now that my master is new set on wooing, |
|
I trust there shall none of us find lack of doing: |
|
Two pair of shoes a day will now be too little |
|
To serve me, I must trot to and fro so mickle. |
|
"Go bear me this token, carry me this letter, |
10 |
Now this is the best way, now that way is better. |
|
Up before day, sirs, I charge you, an hour or twain, |
|
Trudge, do me this message, and bring word quick again." |
|
If one miss but a minute, then, "His arms and wounds, |
|
I would not have slacked for ten thousand pounds. |
|
Nay, see, I beseech you, if my most trusty page |
|
Go not now about to hinder my marriage." |
|
So fervent hot wooing, and so far from wiving, |
|
I trow, never was any creature living. |
|
With every woman is he in some love's pang, |
20 |
Then up to our lute at midnight, twangledom twang, |
|
Then twang with our sonnets, and twang with our dumps, |
|
And heigho from our heart, as heavy as lead lumps; |
|
Then to our recorder with toodleloodle poop, |
|
As the howlet out of an ivy bush should hoop. |
|
Anon to our gittern, thrumpledum, thrumpledum thrum, |
|
Thrumpledum, thrumpledum, thrumpledum, thrumple dum, thrum. |
|
Of songs and ballads also he is a maker, |
|
And that can he as finely do as Jack Raker; |
|
Yea, and extempore will he ditties compose, |
30 |
Foolish Marsias ne'er made the like, I suppose, |
|
Yet must we sing them, as good stuff I undertake, |
|
As for such a pen-man is well fitting to make. |
|
"Ah, for these long nights! heigho! when will it be day? |
|
I fear ere I come she will be wooed away." |
|
Then when answer is made that it may not be, |
|
"0 death, why comest thou not?" (by and by saith he) |
|
But then, from his heart to put away sorrow, |
|
He is as far in with some new love next morrow. |
|
But in the mean season, we trudge and we trot, |
40 |
From dayspring to midnight, I sit not, nor rest not. |
|
And now am I sent to dame Christian Custance: |
|
But I fear it will end with a mock for pastance. |
|
I bring her a ring, with a token in a clout, |
|
And by all guess this same is her house out of doubt. |
|
I know it now perfect, I am in my right way. |
|
And lo! yond the old nurse that was with us last day. |
|
|
|
|
SCENE II |
Madge Mumblecrust. Dobinet Doughtie. |
|
|
|
M. Mumble. I was ne'er so shoke up afore, since I was born. |
|
That our mistress could not have chid, I would have sworn: |
|
And I pray God I die, if I meant any harm, |
50 |
But for my life-time this shall be to me a charm. |
|
D. Dough. God you save and see, nurse, and how is it with you? |
|
M. Mumble. Marry, a great deal the worse it is for such as thou. |
|
D. Dough. For me? Why so? |
|
M. Mumble. Why, were not thou one of them, say, |
|
That sang and played here with the gentleman last day? |
|
D. Dough. Yes, and he would know if you have for him spoken, |
|
And prays you to deliver this ring and token. |
|
M. Mumble. Now by the token that God tokened, brother, |
|
I will deliver no token, one nor other. |
|
I have once been so shent for your master's pleasure, |
|
As I will not be again for all his treasure. 60 |
|
D. Dough. He will thank you, woman. |
|
M. Mumble. 1 will none of his thank. [Ex. |
|
D. Dough. I ween I am a prophet, this gear will prove blank: |
|
But what, should I home again without answer go? |
|
It were better go to Rome on my head than so. |
|
I will tarry here this month, but some of the house |
|
Shall take it of me, and then I care not a louse. |
|
But yonder cometh forth a wench or a lad, |
|
If he have not one Lombard's touch, my luck is bad. |
|
|
|
|
SCENE III |
Trupenie. D. Doughtie. Tibet Talkapace. Annot Alyface. |
|
Trupenie. I am clean lost for lack of merry company, |
70 |
We 'gree not half well within, our wenches and I: |
|
They will command like mistresses, they will forbid, |
|
If they be not served, Trupenie must be chid. |
|
Let them be as merry now as ye can desire, |
|
With turning of a hand, our mirth lieth in the mire. |
|
I cannot skill of such changeable mettle, |
|
There is nothing with them but in dock out nettle. |
|
D. Dough. Whether is it better that I speak to him first, |
|
Or he first to me? it is good to cast the worst. |
|
If I begin first, he will smell all my purpose, |
80 |
Otherwise I shall not need anything to disclose. |
|
Trupenie. What boy have we yonder? I will see what he is. |
|
D. Dough. He cometh to me. It is hereabout, i-wis. |
|
Trupenie. Wouldest thou ought, friend, that thou lookest about? |
|
D. Dough. Yea, but whether ye can help me or no, I doubt. |
|
I seek to one mistress Custance house here dwelling. |
|
Trupenie. It is my mistress ye seek too, by your telling. |
|
D. Dough. Is there any of that name here but she? |
|
Trupenie. Not one in all the whole town that I know, pardee. |
|
D. Dough. A widow she is, I trow. |
|
Trupenie. And what and she be? |
|
D. Dough. But ensured to an husband. |
90 |
Trupenie. Yea, so think we. |
|
D. Dough. And I dwell with her husband that trusteth to be. |
|
Trupenie. In faith, then must thou needs be welcome to me, |
|
Let us for acquaintance shake hands together, |
|
And whate'er thou be, heartily welcome hither. |
|
|
Enter Tibet and Annot. |
|
Tib. Talk. Well, Trupenie, never but flinging? |
|
An. Alyface. And frisking? |
|
Trupenie. Well, Tibet and Annot, still swinging and whisking? |
|
Tib. Talk. But ye roil abroad. |
|
An. Alyface. In the street everywhere. |
|
Trupenie. Where are ye twain, in chambers when ye meet me there? |
|
But come hither, fools, I have one now by the hand, |
100 |
Servant to him that must be our mistress' husband, |
|
Bid him welcome. |
|
An. Alyface. To me truly is he welcome. |
|
Tib. Talk. Forsooth, and as I may say, heartily welcome. |
|
D. Dough. I thank you, mistress maids. |
|
An. Alyface. I hope we shall better know. |
|
Tib. Talk. And when will our new master come? |
|
D. Dough. Shortly, I trow. |
|
Tib. Talk. I would it were to-morrow: for till he resort, |
|
Our mistress, being a widow, hath small comfort, |
|
And I heard our nurse speak of an husband to-day |
|
Ready for our mistress, a rich man and a gay. |
|
And we shall go in our French hoods every day, |
110 |
In our silk cassocks (I warrant you) fresh and gay, |
|
In our trick ferdegews and billiments of gold; |
|
Brave in our suits of change, seven double fold |
|
Then shall ye see Tibet, sirs, tread the moss so trim. |
|
Nay, why said I tread? ye shall see her glide and swim, |
|
Not lumperdee clumperdee like our spaniel Rig. |
|
Trupenie. Marry, then, prick-me-dainty, come toast me a fig, |
|
Who shall then know our Tib Talkapace, trow ye? |
|
An. Alyface. And why not Annot Alyface as fine as she? |
|
Trupenie. And what had Tom Trupenie, a father or none? |
|
An. Alyface. Then our pretty new come man will look to be one. |
121 |
Trupenie. We four, I trust, shall be a joyly merry knot. |
|
Shall we sing a fit to welcome our friend, Annot? |
|
An. Alyface. Perchance he cannot sing. |
|
D. Dough. I am at all essays. |
|
Tib. Talk. By Cock, and the better welcome to us always. |
|
|
Here they sing. |
|
|
|
A thing very fit |
|
For them that have wit |
|
And are fellows knit, |
|
Servants in one house to be, |
|
Is fast for to sit, |
130 |
And not oft to flit, |
|
Nor vary a whit, |
|
But lovingly to agree. |
|
|
|
No man complaining, |
|
No other disdaining, |
|
For loss or for gaining, |
|
But fellows or friends to be. |
|
No grudge remaining, |
|
No work refraining, |
|
Nor help restraining, |
140 |
But lovingly to agree. |
|
|
|
No man for despite, |
|
By word or by write |
|
His fellow to twite, |
|
But further in honesty, |
|
No good turns entwite, |
|
Nor old sores recite, |
|
But let all go quite, |
|
And lovingly to agree. |
|
|
|
After drudgery, |
150 |
When they be weary, |
|
Then to be merry, |
|
To laugh and sing they be free; |
|
With chip and cherie |
|
Heigh derie derie, |
|
Trill on the berie, |
|
And lovingly to agree. |
Finis. |
|
|
|
Tib. Talk. Will you now in with us unto our mistress go? |
|
D. Dough. I have first for my master an errand or two. |
|
But I have here from him a token and a ring, |
|
They shall have most thank of her that first doth it bring. |
|
Tib. Talk. Marry, that will I. |
161 |
Trupenie. See, and Tibet snatch not now. |
|
Tib. Talk. And why may not I, sir, get thanks as well as you? [Exeat. |
|
An. Alyface. Yet get ye not all, we will go with you both, |
|
And have part of your thanks, be ye never so loth. [Exeant omnes. |
|
D. Dough. So my hands are rid of it: I care for no more. |
|
I may now return home: so durst I not afore. [Exeat. |
|
|
|
|
SCENE IV |
C. Custance. Tibet. Annot Alyface. Trupenie. |
|
|
|
C. Custance. Nay, come forth all three: and come hither, pretty maid: |
|
Will not so many forewarnings make you afraid? |
|
Tib. Talk. Yes, forsooth. |
|
C. Custance. But still be a runner up and down, |
170 |
Still be a bringer of tidings and tokens to town. |
|
Tib. Talk. No, forsooth, mistress. |
|
C. Custance. Is all your delight and joy |
|
In whisking and ramping abroad like a Tom-boy? |
|
Tib. Talk. Forsooth, these were there too, Annot and Trupenie. |
|
Trupenie. Yea, but ye alone took it, ye cannot deny. |
|
An. Alyface. Yea, that ye did. |
|
Tibet. But if I had not, ye twain would. |
|
C. Custance. You great calf, ye should have more wit, so ye should: |
|
But why should any of you take such things in hand? |
|
Tibet. Because it came from him that must be your husband. |
|
C. Custance. How do ye know that? |
|
Tibet. Forsooth, the boy did say so. |
|
C. Custance. What was his name? |
|
An. Alyface. We asked not. |
180 |
C. Custance. No, did? |
|
An. Alyface. He is not far gone, of likelihood. |
|
Trupenie. I will see. |
|
C. Custance. If thou canst find him in the street, bring him to me. |
|
Trupenie. Yes. [Exeat. |
|
C. Custance. Well, ye naughty girls, if ever I perceive |
|
That henceforth you do letters or tokens receive, |
|
To bring unto me from any person or place, |
|
Except ye first show me the party face to face, |
|
Either thou or thou, full truly abye thou shalt. |
|
Tibet. Pardon this, and the next time powder me in salt. |
|
C. Custance. I shall make all girls by you twain to beware. |
190 |
Tibet. If ever I offend again, do not me spare. |
|
But if ever I see that false boy any more |
|
By your mistresship's licence, I tell you afore, |
|
I will rather have my coat twenty times swinged, |
|
Than on the naughty wag not to be avenged. |
|
C. Custance. Good wenches would not so ramp abroad idly. |
|
But keep within doors, and ply their work earnestly. |
|
If one would speak with me that is a man likely, |
|
Ye shall have right good thank to bring me word quickly. |
|
But otherwise with messages to come in post |
200 |
From henceforth, I promise you, shall be to your cost. |
|
Get you in to your work. |
|
Tibet. Yes, forsooth. |
|
C. Custance. Hence, both twain. |
|
And let me see you play me such a part again. |
Re-enter Trupenie. |
|
Trupenie. Mistress, I have run past the far end of the street, |
|
Yet can I not yonder crafty boy see nor meet. |
|
C. Custance. No? |
|
Trupenie. Yet I looked as far beyond the people, |
|
As one may see out of the top of Paul's steeple. |
|
C. Custance. Hence, in at doors, and let me no more be vexed. |
|
Trupenie. Forgive me this one fault, and lay on for the next. [Exeat. |
|
C. Custance. Now will I in too, for I think, so God me mend, |
210 |
This will prove some foolish matter in the end. [Exeat. |
|
|
|
|
ACT III |
SCENE I |
Mathew Merygreeke. |
|
|
|
M. Mery. Now say this again: he hath somewhat to doing |
|
Which followeth the trace of one that is wooing, |
|
Specially that hath no more wit in his head, |
|
Than my cousin Roister Doister withal is led. |
|
I am sent in all haste to espy and to mark |
|
How our letters and tokens are likely to wark. |
|
Master Roister Doister must have answer in haste, |
|
For he loveth not to spend much labour in waste. |
|
Now as for Christian Custance, by this light, |
10 |
Though she had not her troth to Gawin Goodluck plight, |
|
Yet rather than with such a loutish dolt to marry, |
|
I daresay would live a poor life solitary. |
|
But fain would I speak with Custance, if I wist how, |
|
To laugh at the matter: yond cometh one forth now. |
|
|
|
|
SCENE II |
Tibet. M. Merygreeke. Christian Custance. |
|
|
|
Tib. Talk. Ah, that I might but once in my life have a sight |
|
Of him that made us all so ill shent: by this light, |
|
He should never escape if I had him by the ear, |
|
But even from his head I would it bite or tear. |
|
Yea, and if one of them were not enow, |
20 |
I would bite them both off, I make God avow. |
|
M. Mery. What is he, whom this little mouse doth so threaten? |
|
Tib. Talk. I would teach him, I trow, to make girls shent or beaten. |
|
M. Mery. I will call her: Maid, with whom are ye so hasty? |
|
Tib. Talk. Not with you, sir, but with a little wagpasty, |
|
A deceiver of folks by subtle craft and guile. |
|
M. Mery. I know where she is: Dobinet hath wrought some wile. |
|
Tib. Talk. He brought a ring and token which he said was sent |
|
From our dame's husband, but I wot well I was shent: |
|
For it liked her as well, to tell you no lies, |
30 |
As water in her ship, or salt cast in her eyes: |
|
And yet whence it came neither we nor she can tell. |
|
M. Mery. We shall have sport anon: I like this very well. |
|
And dwell ye here with mistress Custance, fair maid? |
|
Tib. Talk. Yea, marry do I, sir: what would ye have said? |
|
M. Mery. A little message unto her by word of mouth. |
|
Tib. Talk. No messages, by your leave, nor tokens forsooth. |
|
M. Mery. Then help me to speak with her. |
|
Tib. Talk. With a good will that. |
|
Here she cometh forth. Now speak ye know best what. |
|
C. Custance. None other life with you, maid, but abroad to skip? |
40 |
Tib. Talk. Forsooth, here is one would speak with your mistress-ship. |
|
C. Custance. Ah, have ye been learning of mo messages now? |
|
Tib. Talk. I would not hear his mind, but bade him show it to you. |
|
C. Custance. In at doors. |
|
Tib. Talk. I am gone. [Ex. |
|
M. Mery. Dame Custance, God ye save. |
|
C. Custance. Welcome, friend Merygreeke: and what thing would ye have? |
|
M. Mery. I am come to you a little matter to break. |
|
C. Custance. But see it be honest, else better not to speak. |
|
M. Mery. How feel ye yourself affected here of late? |
|
C. Custance. I feel no manner change but after the old rate. |
|
But whereby do ye mean? |
|
M. Mery. Concerning marriage. Doth not love lade you? |
50 |
C. Custance. I feel no such carriage. |
|
M. Mery. Do ye feel no pangs of dotage? answer me right. |
|
C. Custance. I dote so, that I make but one sleep all the night. |
|
But what need all these words ? |
|
M. Mery. Oh, Jesus, will ye see |
|
What dissembling creatures these same women be? |
|
The gentleman ye wot of, whom ye do so love, |
|
That ye would fain marry him, if ye durst it move, |
|
Among other rich widows, which are of him glad, |
|
Lest ye for lesing of him perchance might run mad, |
|
Is now contented that upon your suit making, |
60 |
Ye be as one in election of taking. |
|
C. Custance. What a tale is this? that I wote of? whom I love? |
|
M. Mery. Yea, and he is as loving a worm again as a dove. |
|
E'en of very pity he is willing you to take, |
|
Because ye shall not destroy yourself for his sake. |
|
C. Custance. Marry, God yeld his maship whatever he be. |
|
It is gentmanly spoken. |
|
M. Mery. Is it not, trow ye? |
|
If ye have the grace now to offer yourself, ye speed. |
|
C. Custance. As much as though I did, this time it shall not need. |
|
But what gentman is it, I pray you tell me plain, |
|
That wooeth so finely? |
70 |
M. Mery. Lo, where ye be again, |
|
As though ye knew him not. |
|
C. Custance. Tush, ye speak in jest. |
|
M. Mery. Nay sure, the party is in good knacking earnest, |
|
And have you he will (he saith), and have you he must. |
|
C. Custance. I am promised during my life, that is just. |
|
M. Mery. Marry, so thinketh he, unto him alone. |
|
C. Custance. No creature hath my faith and troth but one, |
|
That is Gawyn Goodluck: and if it be not he, |
|
He hath no title this way whatever he be, |
|
Nor I know none to whom I have such word spoken. |
80 |
M. Mery. Ye know him not you by his letter and token. |
|
C. Custance. Indeed true it is, that a letter I have, |
|
But I never read it yet, as God me save. |
|
M. Mery. Ye a woman? and your letter so long unread. |
|
C. Custance. Ye may thereby know what haste I have to wed. |
|
But now who it is, for my hand I know by guess. |
|
M. Mery. Ah, well I say. |
|
C. Custance. It is Roister Doister, doubtless. |
|
M. Mery. Will ye never leave this dissimulation? |
|
Ye know him not. |
|
C. Custance. But by imagination, |
|
For no man there is but a very dolt and lout |
90 |
That to woo a widow would so go about. |
|
He shall never have me his wife while he do live. |
|
M. Mery. Then will he have you if he may, so mote I thrive, |
|
And he biddeth you send him word by me, |
|
That ye humbly beseech him, ye may his wife be, |
|
And that there shall be no let in you nor mistrust, |
|
But to be wedded on Sunday next if he lust, |
|
And biddeth you to look for him. |
|
C. Custance. Doth he bid so? |
|
M. Mery. When he cometh, ask him whether he did or no. |
|
C. Custance. Go say, that I bid him keep him warm at home, |
100 |
For if he come abroad, he shall cough me a mome. |
|
My mind was vexed, I shrew his head, sottish dolt. |
|
M. Mery. He hath in his head - |
|
C. Custance. As much brain as a burbolt. |
|
M. Mery. Well, dame Custance, if he hear you thus play chop-loge - |
|
C. Custance. What will he? |
|
M. Mery. Play the devil in the horologe. |
|
C. Custance. I defy him, lout. |
|
M. Mery. Shall I tell him what ye say? |
|
C. Custance. Yea, and add whatsoever thou canst, I thee pray. |
|
And I will avouch it, whatsoever it be. |
|
M. Mery. Then let me alone; we will laugh well, ye shall see, |
|
It will not be long ere he will hither resort. |
|
C. Custance. Let him come when him lust, I wish no better sport. |
111 |
Fare ye well, I will in, and read my great letter. |
|
I shall to my wooer make answer the better. [Exeat. |
|
|
|
|
SCENE III |
Mathew Merygreeke. Roister Doister. |
|
|
|
M. Mery. Now that the whole answer in my devise doth rest, |
|
I shall paint out our wooer in colours of the best. |
|
And all that I say shall be on Custance's mouth, |
|
She is author of all that I shall speak forsooth. |
|
But yond cometh Roister Doister now in a trance. |
|
R. Roister. Juno send me this day good luck and good chance. |
|
I cannot but come see how Merygreeke doth speed. |
120 |
M. Mery. I will not see him, but give him a jut indeed. |
|
I cry your mastership mercy. |
|
R. Roister. And whither now? |
|
M. Mery. As fast as I could run, sir, in post against you. |
|
But why speak ye so faintly, or why are ye so sad? |
|
R. Roister. Thou knowest the proverb, because I cannot be had. |
|
Hast thou spoken with this woman? |
|
M. Mery. Yea, that I have. |
|
R. Roister. And what will this gear be? |
|
M. Mery. No, so God me save. |
|
R. Roister. Hast thou a flat answer? |
|
M. Mery. Nay, a sharp answer. |
|
R. Roister. What? |
|
M. Mery. Ye shall not (she saith) by her will marry her cat. |
|
Ye are such a calf, such an ass, such a block, |
130 |
Such a lilburn, such a hoball, such a lobcock, |
|
And because ye should come to her at no season, |
|
She despised your maship out of all reason. |
|
Beware what ye say (ko I) of such a gentman, |
|
Nay, I fear him not (ko she), do the best he can. |
|
He vaunteth himself for a man of prowess great, |
|
Whereas a good gander, I daresay, may him beat. |
|
And where he is Touted and laughed to scorn, |
|
For the veriest dolt that ever was born, |
|
And veriest lover, sloven and beast, |
140 |
Living in this world from the west to the east: |
|
Yet of himself hath he such opinion, |
|
That in all the world is not the like minion. |
|
He thinketh each woman to be brought in dotage |
|
With the only sight of his goodly personage: |
|
Yet none that will have him: we do him lout and flock, |
|
And make him among us our common sporting stock, |
|
And so would I now (ko she), save only because Better nay (ko I), |
|
I lust not meddle with daws. Ye are happy (ko I) that ye are a woman, |
150 |
This would cost you your life in case ye were a man. |
|
R. Roister. Yea, an hundred thousand pound should not save her life. |
|
M. Mery. No, but that ye woo her to have her to your wife. |
|
But I could not stop her mouth. |
|
R. Roister. Heigh ho, alas! |
|
M. Mery. Be of good cheer, man, and let the world pass. |
|
R. Roister. What shall I do or say now that it will not be? |
|
M. Mery. Ye shall have choice of a thousand as good as she, |
|
And ye must pardon her, it is for lack of wit. |
|
R. Roister. Yea, for were not I an husband for her fit? |
|
Well, what should I now do? |
|
M. Mery. In faith I cannot tell. |
|
R. Roister. I will go home and die. |
160 |
M. Mery. Then shall I bid toll the bell? |
|
R. Roister. No. |
|
M. Mery. God have mercy on your soul, ah, good gentleman, |
|
That e'er ye should th[u]s die for an unkind woman. |
|
Will ye drink once ere ye go ? |
|
R. Roister. No, no, I will none. |
|
M. Mery. How feel your soul to God? |
|
R. Roister. I am nigh gone. |
|
M. Mery. And shall we hence straight? |
|
R. Roister. Yea. |
|
M. Mery. Placebo dilexi. [ut infra. |
|
Master Roister Doister will straight go home and die. |
|
R. Roister. Heigh-how! alas, the pangs of death my heart do break. |
|
M. Mery. Hold your peace for shame, sir, a dead man may not speak. |
|
Nequando. What mourners and what torches shall we have? |
|
R. Roister. None. |
170 |
M. Mery. Dirige. He will go darkling to his grave, |
|
Neque lux, neque crux, neque mourners, neque clink, |
|
He will steal to heaven, unknowing to God, I think. |
|
A porta inferi. Who shall your goods possess? |
|
R. Roister. Thou shalt be my sectour, and have all more and less. |
|
M. Mery. Requiem aternam. Now, God reward your mastership. |
|
And I will cry halfpenny-dole for your worship. |
|
Come forth, sirs, hear the doleful news I shall you tell. [Evocat servos militis. |
|
Our good master here will no longer with us dwell, |
|
But in spite of Custance, which hath him wearied, |
180 |
Let us see his maship solemnly buried. |
|
And while some piece of his soul is yet him within, |
|
Some part of his funerals let us here begin. |
|
Audivi vocem. All men take heede by this one gentleman; |
|
How you set your love upon an unkind woman. |
|
For these women be all such mad peevish elves, |
|
They will not be won except it please themselves. |
|
But in faith, Custance, if ever ye come in hell, |
|
Master Roister Doister shall serve you as well. |
|
And will ye needs go from us thus in very deed? |
|
R. Roister. Yea, in good sadness. |
190 |
M. Mery. Now, Jesus Christ be your speed. |
|
Good-night, Roger old knave; farewell, Roger old knave. |
|
Good-night, Roger old knave, knave, knap. [ut infra. |
|
Pray for the late master Roister Doister's soul, |
|
And come forth, parish clerk, let the passing bell toll. [Ad servos militis. |
|
Pray for your master, sirs, and for him ring a peal. |
|
He was your right good master while he was in heal. |
|
Qui Lazarum. |
|
R. Roister. Heigh-how! |
|
M. Mery. Dead men go not so fast |
|
In Paradisum. |
|
R. Roister. Heihow! |
|
M. Mery. Soft, hear what I have cast. |
|
R. Roister. I will hear nothing, I am past. |
|
M. Mery. Whough, wellaway. |
200 |
Ye may tarry one hour, and hear what I shall say, |
|
Ye were best, sir, for a while to revive again, |
|
And quite them ere ye go. |
|
R. Roister. Trowest thou so? |
|
M. Mery. Ye, plain. |
|
R. Roister. How may I revive, being now so far past? |
|
M. Mery. I will rub your temples, and fet you again at last. |
|
R. Roister. It will not be possible. |
|
M. Mery. Yes, for twenty pound. |
|
R. Roister. Arms, what dost thou? |
|
M. Mery. Fet you again out of your sound. |
|
By this cross ye were nigh gone indeed, I might feel |
|
Your soul departing within an inch of your heel. |
|
Now follow my counsel. |
|
R. Roister. What is it? |
|
M. Mery. If I were you, |
210 |
Custance should eft seek to me, ere I would bow. |
|
R. Roister. Well, asthou wilt have me, even so will I do. |
|
M. Mery. Then shall ye revive again for an hour or two. |
|
R. Roister. As thou wilt, I am content for a little space. |
|
M. Mery. Good hap is not hasty: yet in space com[e]th grace. |
|
To speak with Custance yourself should be very well, |
|
What good thereof may come, nor I nor you can tell. |
|
But now the matter standeth upon your marriage, |
|
Ye must now take unto you a lusty courage, |
|
Ye may not speak with a faint heart to Custance, |
220 |
But with a lusty breast and countenance, |
|
That she may know she hath to answer to a man. |
|
R. Roister. Yes, I can do that as well as any can. |
|
M. Mery. Then because ye must Custance face to face woo, |
|
Let us see how to behave yourself ye can do. |
|
Ye must have a portly brag after your estate. |
|
R. Roister. Tush, I can handle that after the best rate. |
|
M. Mery. Well done! so lo, up man with your head and chin, |
|
Up with that snout, man! so lo, now ye begin! |
|
So, that is somewhat like, but pranky cote, nay whan? |
230 |
That is a lusty brute; hands under your side, man. |
|
So lo, now is it even as it should be, |
|
That is somewhat like, for a man of your degree. |
|
Then must ye stately go, jetting up and down. |
|
Tut, can ye no better shake the tail of your gown? |
|
There, lo, such a lusty brag it is ye must make. |
|
R. Roister. To come behind, and make curtesy, thou must some pains take. |
|
M. Mery. Else were I much to blame, I thank your mastership. |
|
The lord one day all to begrime you with worship, |
|
Back, sir sauce, let gentlefolks have elbow room, |
240 |
'Void, sirs, see ye not master Roister Doister come? |
|
Make place, my masters. |
|
R. Roister. Thou jostlest now too nigh. |
|
M. Mery. Back, all rude louts. |
|
R. Roister. Tush! |
|
M. Mery. I cry your maship mercy. |
|
Hoighdagh, if fair fine mistress Custance saw you now, |
|
Ralph Roister Doister were her own, I warrant you. |
|
R. Roister. Near an M by your girdle? |
|
M. Mery. Your good mastership's |
|
Mastership, were her own mistress-ship's mistress-ships, |
|
Ye were take up for hawks, ye were gone, ye were gone, |
|
But now one other thing more yet I think upon. |
|
R. Roister. Show what it is. |
|
M. Mery. A wooer, be he never so poor, |
250 |
Must play and sing before his best-beloved's door, |
|
How much more than you ? |
|
R. Roister. Thou speakest well, out of doubt. |
|
M. Mery. And perchance that would make her the sooner come out. |
|
R. Roister. Go call my musicians, bid them hie apace. |
|
M. Mery. I will be here with them ere ye can say trey ace. [Exeat. |
|
R. Roister. This was well said of Merygreeke, I 'low his wit. |
|
Before my sweetheart's door we will have a fit, |
|
That if my love come forth, that I may with her talk, |
|
I doubt not but this gear shall on my side walk. |
|
But lo, how well Merygreeke is returned sence. |
Re-enter Merygreeke. |
260 |
M. Mery. There hath grown no grass on my heel since I went hence, |
|
Lo, here have I brought that shall make you pastance. |
|
R. Roister. Come, sirs, let us sing to win my dear love Custance. |
Cantent. |
|
M. Mery. Lo, where she cometh, some countenance to her make, |
|
And ye shall hear me be plain with her for your sake. |
|
|
|
|
|
|
SCENE IV |
Custance. Merygreeke. Roister Doister. |
|
|
|
C. Custance. What gauding and fooling is this afore my door? |
|
M. Mery. May not folks be honest, pray you, though they be poor? |
|
C. Custance. As that thing may be true, so rich folks may be fools. |
|
R. Roister. Her talk is as fine as she had learned in schools. |
|
M. Mery. Look partly toward her, and draw a little near. |
|
C. Custance. Get ye home, idle folks. |
270 |
M. Mery. Why, may not we be here? |
|
Nay, and ye will haze, haze: otherwise, I tell you plain, |
|
And ye will not haze, then give us our gear again. |
|
C. Custance. Indeed I have of yours much gay things, God save all. |
|
R. Roister. Speak gently unto her, and let her take all. |
|
M. Mery. Ye are too tender-hearted: shall she make us daws? |
|
Nay, dame, I will be plain with you in my friend's cause. |
|
R. Roister. Let all this pass, sweetheart, and accept my service. |
|
C. Custance. I will not be served with a fool in no wise, |
|
When I choose an husband I hope to take a man. |
|
M. Mery. And where will ye find one which can do that he can? |
281 |
Now this man toward you being so kind, |
|
You not to make him an answer somewhat to his mind. |
|
C. Custance. I sent him a full answer by you, did I not? |
|
M. Mery. And I reported it. |
|
C. Custance. Nay, I must speak it again. |
|
R. Roister. No, no, he told it all. |
|
M. Mery. Was I not metely plain? |
|
R. Roister. Yes. |
|
M. Mery. But I would not tell all; for faith, if I had, |
|
With you, dame Custance, ere this hour it had been bad, |
|
And not without cause: for this goodly personage |
|
Meant no less than to join with you in marriage. |
|
C. Custance. Let him waste no more labour nor suit about me. |
291 |
M. Mery. Ye know not where your preferment lieth, I see, |
|
He sending you such a token, ring and letter. |
|
C. Custance. Marry, here it is; ye never saw a better. |
|
M. Mery. Let us see your letter. |
|
C. Custance. Hold, read it if ye can. |
|
And see what letter it is to win a woman. |
|
M. Mery. "To mine own dear coney bird, sweetheart, and pigsny, |
|
Good Mistress Custance, present these by and by." |
|
Of this superscription do ye blame the style? |
|
C. Custance. With the rest as good stuff as ye read a great while. |
|
M. Mery. "Sweet mistress, where as I love you nothing at all, |
301 |
Regarding your substance and richesse chief of all, |
|
For your personage, beauty, demeanour and wit, |
|
I commend me unto you never a whit. |
|
Sorry to hear report of your good welfare, |
|
For (as I hear say) such your conditions are, |
|
That ye be worthy favour of no living man, |
|
To be abhorred of every honest man. |
|
To be taken for a woman inclined to vice. |
|
Nothing at all to virtue giving her due price. |
310 |
Wherefore, concerning marriage, ye are thought |
|
Such a fine paragon, as ne'er honest man bought. |
|
And now by these presents I do you advertise |
|
That I am minded to marry you in no wise. |
|
For your goods and substance, I could be content |
|
To take you as ye are. If ye mind to be my wife, |
|
Ye shall be assured for the time of my life, |
|
I will keep you right well, from good raiment and fare, |
|
Ye shall not be kept but in sorrow and care. |
|
Ye shall in no wise live at your own liberty, |
320 |
Do and say what ye lust, ye shall never please me, |
|
But when ye are merry, I will be all sad; |
|
When ye are sorry, I will be very glad. |
|
When ye seek your heart's ease, I will be unkind. |
|
At no time in me shall ye much gentleness find. |
|
But all things contrary to your will and mind, |
|
Shall be done: otherwise I will not be behind |
|
To speak. And as for all them that would do you wrong |
|
I will so help and maintain, ye shall not live long. |
|
Nor any foolish dolt shall cumber you but I. |
|
I, whoe'er say nay, will stick by you till I die, |
|
Thus, good mistress Custance, the Lord you save and keep, |
330 |
From me, Roister Doister, whether I wake or sleep. |
|
Who favoureth you no less (ye may be bold) |
|
Than this letter purporteth, which ye have unfold." |
|
C. Custance. How by this letter of love? is it not fine? |
|
R. Roister. By the arms of Caleys it is none of mine. |
|
M. Mery. Fie, you are foul to blame, this is your own hand. |
|
C. Custance. Might not a woman be proud of such an husband? |
339 |
M. Mery. Ah, that ye would in a letter show such despite. |
|
R. Roister. Oh, I would I had him here, the which did it endite. |
|
M. Mery. Why, ye made it yourself, ye told me by this light. |
|
R. Roister. Yea, I meant I wrote it mine own self yesternight. |
|
C. Custance. I-wis, sir, I would not have sent you such a mock. |
|
R. Roister. Ye may so take it, but I meant it not so, by Cock. |
|
M. Mery. Who can blame this woman to fume and fret and rage? |
|
Tut, tut! yourself now have marred your own marriage. |
|
Well, yet mistress Custance, if ye can this remit, |
|
This gentleman otherwise may your love requit. |
|
C. Custance. No, God be with you both, and seek no more to me. [Exeat. |
|
R. Roister. Wough! she is gone for ever, I shall her no more see. |
351 |
M. Mery. What, weep? fie, for shame, and blubber? For manhood's sake, |
|
Never let your foe so much pleasure of you take. |
|
Rather play the man's part, and do love refrain. |
|
If she despise you, e'en despise ye her again. |
|
R. Roister. By Goss, and for thy sake I defy her indeed. |
|
M. Mery. Yea, and perchance that way ye shall much sooner speed, |
|
For one mad property these women have in fey, |
|
When ye will, they will not: will not ye, then will they. |
|
Ah, foolish woman! ah, most unlucky Custance! |
360 |
Ah, unfortunate woman! ah, peevish Custance! |
|
Art thou to thine harms so obstinately bent, |
|
That thou canst not see where lieth thine high preferment? |
|
Canst thou not lub dis man, which could lub dee so well? |
|
Art thou so much thine own foe? |
|
R. Roister. Thou dost the truth tell. |
|
M. Mery. Well I lament. |
|
R. Roister. So do I. |
|
M. Mery. Wherefore? |
|
R. Roister. For this thing |
|
Because she is gone. |
|
M. Mery. I mourn for another thing. |
|
R. Roister. What is it, Merygreeke, wherefore thou dost grief take? |
|
M. Mery. That I am not a woman myself for your sake, |
|
I would have you myself, and a straw for yond Gill, |
|
And mock much of you though it were against my will. |
371 |
I would not, I warrant you, fall in such a rage, |
|
As so to refuse such a goodly personage. |
|
R. Roister. In faith, I heartily thank thee, Merygreeke. |
|
M. Mery. And I were a woman - |
|
R. Roister. Thou wouldest to me seek. |
|
M. Mery. For, though I say it, a goodly person ye be. |
|
R. Roister. No, no. |
|
M. Mery. Yes, a goodly man as e'er I did see. |
|
R. Roister. No, I am a poor homely man, as God made me. |
|
M. Mery. By the faith that I owe to God, sir, but ye be, |
|
Would I might for your sake, spend a thousand pound land. |
|
R. Roister. I dare say thou wouldest have me to thy husband. |
381 |
M. Mery. Yea: and I were the fairest lady in the shire, |
|
And knew you as I know you, and see you now here. |
|
Well, I say no more. |
|
R. Roister. Gramercies, with all my heart. |
|
M. Mery. But since that cannot be, will ye play a wise part? |
|
R. Roister. How should I? |
|
M. Mery. Refrain from Custance a while now, |
|
And I warrant her soon right glad to seek to you. |
|
Ye shall see her anon come on her knees creeping, |
|
And pray you to be good to her, salt tears weeping. |
|
R. Roister. But what and she come not? |
|
M. Mery. In faith, then, farewell she. |
390 |
Or else if ye be wroth, ye may avenged be. |
|
R. Roister. By Cock's precious potstick, and e'en so I shall. |
|
I will utterly destroy her, and house and all. |
|
But I would be avenged in the mean space, |
|
On that vile scribbler, that did my wooing disgrace. |
|
M. Mery. Scribbler (ko you), indeed he is worthy no less. |
|
 I will call him to you, and ye bid me doubtless. ; |
|
R. Roister. Yes, for although he had as many lives, |
|
As a thousand widows, and a thousand wives, |
|
As a thousand lions, and a thousand rats, |
400 |
A thousand wolves, and a thousand cats, |
|
A thousand bulls, and a thousand calves, |
|
And a thousand legions divided in halves, |
|
 He shall never 'scape death on my sword's point,; |
|
Though I should be torn therefore joint by joint. |
|
M. Mery. Nay, if ye will kill him, I will not bet him, |
|
I will not in so much extremity set him; |
|
He may yet amend, sir, and be an honest man, |
|
Therefore pardon him, good soul, as much as ye can. |
|
R. Roister. Well, for thy sake, this once with his life he shall pass, |
410 |
But I will hew him all to pieces, by the Mass. |
|
M. Mery. Nay, faith, ye shall promise that he shall no harm have, |
|
Else I will not bet him. |
|
R. Roister. I shall so, God me save. |
|
But I may chide him a good. |
|
M. Mery. Yea, that do hardly. |
|
R. Roister. Go, then. |
|
M. Mery. I return, and bring him to you by and by. [Ex. |
|
|
|
|
SCENE V |
Roister Doister. Mathew Merygreeke. Scrivener. |
|
|
|
R. Roister. What is a gentleman but his word and his promise? |
|
I must now save this villain's life in any wise, |
|
And yet at him already my hands do tickle, |
|
I shall uneth hold them, they will be so fickle. |
|
But lo, and Merygreeke have not brought him sens. |
420 |
M. Mery. Nay, I would I had of my purse paid forty pens. |
|
Scrivener. So would I too: but it needed not that stound. |
|
M. Mery. But the gentman had rather spent five thousand pound, |
|
For it disgraced him at least five times so much. |
|
Scrivener. He disgraced himself, his loutishness is such. |
|
R. Roister. How long they stand prating! Why comest thou not away ? |
|
M. Mery. Come now to himself, and hark what he will say. |
|
Scrivener. I am not afraid in his presence to appear. |
|
R. Roister. Art thou come, fellow? |
|
Scrivener. How think you? am I not here? |
|
R. Roister. What hindrance hast thou done me, and what villainy? |
430 |
Scrivener. It hath come of thyself, if thou hast had any. |
|
R. Roister. All the stock thou comest of later or rather, |
|
From thy first father's grandfather's father's father, |
|
Nor all that shall come of thee to the world's end, |
|
Though to threescore generations they descend, |
|
Can be able to make me a just recompense, |
|
For this trespass of thine and this one offence. |
|
Scrivener. Wherein? |
|
R. Roister. Did not you make me a letter, brother? |
|
Scrivener. Pay the like hire, I will make you such another. |
|
R. Roister. Nay, see and these whoreson Pharisees and Scribes |
440 |
Do not get their living by polling and bribes. |
|
If it were not for shame - |
|
Scrivener. Nay, hold thy hands still. |
|
M. Mery. Why, did ye not promise that ye would not him spill? |
|
Scrivener. Let him not spare me. |
|
R. Roister. Why wilt thou strike me again? |
|
Scrivener. Ye shall have as good as ye bring of me, that is plain. |
|
M. Mery. I cannot blame him, sir, though your blows would him grieve. |
|
For he knoweth present death to ensue of all ye give. |
|
R. Roister. Well, this man for once hath purchased thy pardon. |
|
Scrivener. And what say ye to me? or else I will be gone. |
|
R. Roister. I say the letter thou madest me was not good. |
450 |
Scrivener. Then did ye wrong copy it, of likelihood. |
|
R. Roister. Yes, out of thy copy word for word I wrote. |
|
Scrivener. Then was it as ye prayed to have it, I wot, |
|
But in reading and pointing there was made some fault. |
|
R. Roister. I wot not, but it made all my matter to halt. |
|
Scrivener. How say you, is this mine original or no? |
|
R. Roister. The self same that I wrote out of, so mote I go. |
|
Scrivener. Look you on your own fist, and I will look on this, |
|
And let this man be judge whether I read amiss. |
|
"To mine own dear coney bird, sweetheart, and pigsny, |
460 |
Good Mistress Custance, present these by and by." |
|
How now? doth not this superscription agree? |
|
R. Roister. Read that is within, and there ye shall the fault see. |
|
Scrivener. "Sweet mistress, whereas I love you, nothing at all |
|
Regarding your richesse and substance: chief of all |
|
For your personage, beauty, demeanour, and wit |
|
I commend me unto you: never a whit |
|
Sorry to hear report of your good welfare. |
|
For (as I hear say) such your conditions are, |
|
That ye be worthy of favour: of no living man |
470 |
To be abhorred: of every honest man |
|
To be taken for a woman inclined to vice |
|
Nothing at all: to virtue giving her due price. |
|
Wherefore concerning marriage, ye are thought |
|
Such a fine paragon, as ne'er honest man bought. |
|
And now by these presents I do you advertise, |
|
That I am minded to marry you: in no wise |
|
For your goods and substance: I can be content |
|
To take you as you are: if ye will be my wife, |
|
Ye shall be assured for the time of my life, |
480 |
I will keep you right well: from good raiment and fare, |
|
Ye shall not be kept: but in sorrow and care |
|
Ye shall in no wise live: at your own liberty, |
|
Do and say what ye lust: ye shall never please me |
|
But when ye are merry: I will be all sad |
|
When ye are sorry: I will be very glad |
|
When ye seek your heart's ease: I will be unkind |
|
At no time: in me shall ye much gentleness find. |
|
But all things contrary to your will and mind |
|
Shall be done otherwise: I will not be behind |
490 |
To speak: and as for all them that would do you wrong, |
|
(I will so help and maintain ye) shall not live long. |
|
Nor any foolish dolt shall cumber you, but I, |
|
I, whoe'er say nay, will stick by you till I die. |
|
Thus, good mistress Custance, the Lord you save and keep, |
|
From me, Roister Doister, whether I wake or sleep, |
|
Who favoureth you no less (ye may be bold), |
|
Than this letter purporteth, which ye have unfold." |
|
Now, sir, what default can ye find in this letter? |
|
R. Roister. Of truth, in my mind there cannot be a better. |
500 |
Scrivener. Then was the fault in reading, and not in writing, |
|
No, nor I dare say in the form of enditing. |
|
But who read this letter, that it sounded so naught? |
|
M. Mery. I read it, indeed. |
|
Scrivener. Ye read it not as ye ought. |
|
R. Roister. Why, thou wretched villain, was all this same fault in thee? |
|
M. Mery. I knock your costard if ye offer to strike me. |
|
R. Roister. Strikest thou, indeed? and I offer but in jest? |
|
M. Mery. Yea, and rap you again except ye can sit in rest. |
|
And I will no longer tarry here, me believe. |
|
R. Roister. What, wilt thou be angry, and I do thee forgive? |
510 |
Fare thou well, scribbler, I cry thee mercy indeed. |
|
Scrivener. Fare ye well, bibbler, and worthily may ye speed. |
|
R. Roister. If it were another but thou, it were a knave. |
|
M. Mery. Ye are another yourself, sir, the Lord us both save. |
|
Albeit in this matter I must your pardon crave. |
|
Alas, would ye wish in me the wit that ye have? |
|
But as for my fault I can quickly amend, |
|
I will show Custance it was I that did offend. |
|
R. Roister. By so doing her anger may be reformed. |
|
M. Mery. But if by no entreaty she will be turned, |
520 |
Then set light by her and be as testy as she, |
|
And do your force upon her with extremity. |
|
R. Roister. Come on, therefore, let us go home in sadness. |
|
M. Mery. That if force shall need all may be in a readiness, |
|
And as for this letter hardly let all go, |
|
We will know where she refuse you for that or no. [Exeant am. |
|
|
|
ACT IV |
SCENE I |
Sym Suresby. |
|
|
|
Sym Sure. Is there any man but I, Sym Suresby, alone, |
|
That would have taken such an enterprise him upon, |
|
In such an outrageous tempest as this was, |
|
Such a dangerous gulf of the sea to pass? |
|
I think, verily, Neptune's mighty godship |
|
Was angry with some that was in our ship, |
|
And but for the honesty which in me he found, |
|
I think for the others' sake we had been drowned. |
|
But fie on that servant which for his master's wealth |
10 |
Will stick for to hazard both his life and his health. |
|
My master, Gawyn Goodluck, after me a day, |
|
Because of the weather, thought best his ship to stay, |
|
And now that I have the rough surges so well past, |
|
God grant I may find all things safe here at last. |
|
Then will I think all my travail well spent. |
|
Now the first point wherefore my master hath me sent |
|
Is to salute dame Christian Custance, his wife |
|
Espoused, whom he tendereth no less than his life. |
|
I must see how it is with her, well or wrong, |
20 |
And whether for him she doth not now think long: |
|
Then to other friends I have a message or tway, |
|
And then so to return and meet him on the way. |
|
Now will I go knock that I may despatch with speed, |
|
But lo, forth cometh herself happily indeed. |
|
|
|
|
SCENE II |
Christian Custance. Sym Suresby. |
|
|
|
C. Custance. I come to see if any more stirring be here, |
|
But what stranger is this which doth to me appear? |
|
Sym Sure. I will speak to her: Dame, the Lord you save and see. |
|
C. Custance. What, friend Sym Suresby? Forsooth, right welcome ye be, |
|
How doth mine own Gawyn Goodluck, I pray thee tell? |
30 |
Sym Sure. When he knoweth of your health he will be perfect well. |
|
C. Custance. If he have perfect health, I am as I would be. |
|
Sym Sure. Such news will please him well, this is as it should be. |
|
C. Custance. I think now long for him. |
|
Sym Sure. And he as long for you. |
|
C. Custance. When will he be at home? |
|
Sym Sure. His heart is here e'en now, |
|
His body cometh after. |
|
C. Custance. I would see that fain. |
|
Sym Sure. As fast as wind and sail can carry it amain. |
|
But what two men are yond coming hitherward? |
|
C. Custance. Now I shrew their best Christmas cheeks both togetherward. |
|
|
|
|
SCENE III |
Christian Custance. Sym Suresby. Ralph Roister. Mathew Merygreeke. Trupenie. |
|
|
|
C. Custance. What mean these lewd fellows thus to trouble me still? |
40 |
Sym Suresby here perchance shall thereof deem some ill. |
|
And shall suspect in me some point of naughtiness, |
|
And they come hitherward. |
|
Sym Sure. What is their business? |
|
C. Custance. I have nought to them; nor they to me in sadness. |
|
Sym Sure. Let us hearken them; somewhat there is, I fear it. |
|
R. Roister. I will speak out aloud best, that she may hear it. |
|
M. Mery. Nay, alas, ye may so fear her out of her wit. |
|
R. Roister. By the cross of my sword, I will hurt her no whit. |
|
M. Mery. Will ye do no harm indeed? shall I trust your word? |
|
R. Roister. By Roister Doister's faith, I will speak but in borde. |
50 |
Sym Sure. Let us hearken them; somewhat there is, I fear it. |
|
R. Roister. I will speak out aloud, I care not who hear it: |
|
Sirs, see that my harness, my target, and my shield, |
|
Be made as bright now, as when I was last in field, |
|
As white as I should to war again to-morrow: |
|
For sick shall I be, but I work some folk sorrow. |
|
Therefore see that all shine as bright as Saint George, |
|
Or as doth a key newly come from the smith's forge, |
|
I would have my sword and harness to shine so bright, |
|
That I might therewith dim mine enemies' sight, |
60 |
I would have it cast beams as fast, I tell you plain, |
|
As doth the glittering grass after a shower of rain. |
|
And see that in case I should need to come to arming, |
|
All things may be ready at a minute's warning, |
|
For such chance may chance in an hour, do ye hear? |
|
M. Mery. As perchance shall not chance again in seven year. |
|
R. Roister. Now draw we near to her, and hear what shall be said. |
|
M. Mery. But I would not have you make her too much afraid. |
|
R. Roister. Well found, sweet wife (I trust), for all this your sour look. |
|
C. Custance. Wife, why call ye me wife? |
|
Sym Sure. Wife? this gear goeth acrook. |
70 |
M. Mery. Nay, mistress Custance, I warrant you, our letter |
|
Is not as we read e'en now, but much better, |
|
And where ye half stomached this gentleman afore, |
|
For this same letter, ye will love him now therefore, |
|
Nor it is not this letter, though ye were a queen, |
|
That should break marriage between you twain, I ween. |
td> |
C. Custance. I did not refuse him for the letter's sake. |
|
R. Roister. Then ye are content me for your husband to take? |
|
C. Custance. You for my husband to take? nothing less truly. |
|
R. Roister. Yea, say so, sweet spouse, afore strangers hardly. |
8o |
M. Mery. And though I have here his letter of love with me, |
|
Yet his ring and tokens he sent, keep safe with ye. |
|
C. Custance. A mischief take his tokens, and him and thee too. |
|
But what prate I with fools? have I naught else to do? |
|
Come in with me, Sym Suresby, to take some repast. |
|
Sym Sure. I must ere I drink, by your leave, go in all haste, |
|
To a place or two, with earnest letters of his. |
|
C. Custance. Then come drink here with me. |
|
Sym Sure. I thank you! |
|
C. Custance. Do not miss. |
|
You shall have a token to your master with you. |
|
Sym Sure. No tokens this time, gramercies, God be with you. [Exeat. |
90 |
C. Custance. Surely this fellow misdeemeth some ill in me. |
|
Which thing but God help, will go near to spill me. |
|
R. Roister. Yea, farewell, fellow, and tell thy master Goodluck |
|
That he cometh too late of this blossom to pluck. |
|
Let him keep him there still, or at leastwise make no haste, |
|
As for his labour hither he shall spend in waste. |
|
His betters be in place now. |
|
M. Mery. As long as it will hold. |
|
C. Custance. I will be even with thee, thou beast, thou mayst be bold. |
|
R. Roister. Will ye have us then? |
|
C. Custance. I will never have thee. |
|
R. Roister. Then will I have you? |
|
C. Custance. No, the devil shall have thee. |
100 |
I have gotten this hour more shame and harm by thee, |
|
Than all thy life days thou canst do me honesty. |
|
M. Mery. Why now may ye see what it cometh to, in the end, |
|
To make a deadly foe of your most loving friend: |
|
And i-wis this letter, if ye would hear it now |
|
C. Custance. I will hear none of it. |
|
M. Mery. In faith, would ravish you. |
|
C. Custance. He hath stained my name for ever, this is clear. |
|
R. Roister. I can make all as well in an hour. |
|
M. Mery. As ten year. |
|
How say ye, will ye have him? |
|
C. Custance. No. |
|
M. Mery. Will ye take him? |
|
C. Custance. I defy him. |
|
M. Mery. At my word? |
|
C. Custance. A shame take him. |
110 |
Waste no more wind, for it will never be. |
|
M. Mery. This one fault with twain shall be mended, ye shall see. |
|
Gentle mistress Custance, now, good mistress Custance! |
|
Honey mistress Custance, now, sweet mistress Custance! |
|
Golden mistress Custance, now, white mistress Custance! |
|
Silken mistress Custance, now, fair mistress Custance! |
|
C. Custance. Faith, rather than to marry with such a doltish lout, |
|
I would match myself with a beggar, out of doubt. |
|
M. Mery. Then I can say no more; to speed we are not like, |
119 |
Except ye rap out a rag of your rhetoric. |
|
C. Custance. Speak not of winning me: for it shall never be so. |
|
R. Roister. Yes, dame, I will have you, whether ye will or no. |
|
I command you to love me, wherefore should ye not? |
|
Is not my love to you chafing and burning hot? |
|
M. Mery. To her, that is well said. |
|
R. Roister. Shall I so break my brain |
|
To dote upon you, and ye not love us again? |
|
M. Mery. Well said yet. |
|
C. Custance. Go to, you goose. |
|
R. Roister. I say, Kit Custance, |
|
In case ye will not haze, well, better yes perchance. |
|
C. Custance. Avaunt, lozel! pick thee hence. |
|
M. Mery. Well, sir, ye perceive, |
|
For all your kind offer, she will not you receive. |
130 |
R. Roister. Then a straw for her, and a straw for her again, |
|
She shall not be my wife, would she never so fain; |
|
No, and though she would be at ten thousand pound cost. |
|
M. Mery. Lo, dame, ye may see what an husband ye have lost. |
|
C. Custance. Yea, no force, a jewel much better lost than found. |
|
M. Mery. Ah, ye will not believe how this doth my heart wound. |
|
How should a marriage between you be toward, |
|
If both parties draw back, and become so froward? |
|
R. Roister. Nay, dame, I will fire thee out of thy house, |
|
And destroy thee and all thine, and that by and by. |
140 |
M. Mery. Nay, for the passion of God, sir, do not so. |
|
R. Roister. Yes, except she will say yea to that she said no. |
|
C. Custance. And what, be there no officers, trow we, in town |
|
To check idle loiterers, bragging up and down? |
|
Where be they, by whom vacabunds should be represt? |
|
That poor silly widows might live in peace and rest. |
|
Shall I never rid thee out of my company? |
|
I will call for help: what ho, come forth Trupenie! |
Enter Trupenie. |
|
Trupenie. Anon. What is your will, mistress? did ye call me? |
|
C. Custance. Yea; go run apace, and as fast as may be, |
150 |
Pray Tristram Trustie, my most assured friend, |
|
To be here by and by, that he may me defend. |
|
Trupenie. That message so quickly shall be done, by God's grace, |
|
That at my return ye shall say, I went apace. [Exeat. |
|
C. Custance. Then shall we see, I trow, whether ye shall do me harm. |
|
R. Roister. Yes, in faith, Kit, I shall thee and thine so charm, |
|
That all women incarnate by thee may beware. |
|
C. Custance. Nay, as for charming me, come hither if thou dare, |
|
I shall clout thee till thou stink, both thee and thy train, |
|
And coil thee mine own hands, and send thee home again. |
160 |
R. Roister. Yea, sayest thou me that, dame? dost thou me threaten? |
|
Go we, I still see whether I shall be beaten. |
|
M. Mery. Nay, for the paishe of God, let me now treat peace, |
|
For bloodshed will there be in case this strife increase. |
|
Ah, good dame Custance, take better way with you. |
|
C. Custance. Let him do his worst. |
|
M. Mery. Yield in time. |
|
R. Roister. Come hence, thou. [Exeant Roister et Mery. |
|
|
|
|
SCENE IV |
Christian Custance. Annot Alyface. Tibet T. M. Mumblecrust. |
|
|
|
C. Custance. So, sirrah, if I should not with him take this way, |
|
I should not be rid of him, I think, till doom's day. |
|
I will call forth my folks, that without any mocks, |
|
If he come again we may give him raps and knocks. |
170 |
Madge Mumblecrust, come forth, and Tibet Talkapace. |
|
Yea, and come forth too, mistress Annot Alyface. |
|
An. Alyface. I come. |
|
Tibet. And I am here. |
|
M. Mumble. And I am here too, at length. |
|
C. Custance. Like warriors, if need be, ye must show your strength. |
|
The man that this day hath thus beguiled you. |
|
Is Ralph Roister Doister, whom ye know well inowe, |
|
The most lout and dastard that ever on ground trod. |
|
Tib. Talk. I see all folk mock him when he goeth abroad. |
|
C. Custance. What, pretty maid? will ye talk when I speak? |
|
Tib. Talk. No, forsooth, good mistress. |
179 |
C. Custance. Will ye my tale break? |
|
He threateneth to come hither with all his force to fight, |
|
I charge you, if he come, on him with all your might. |
|
M. Mumble. I with my distaff will reach him one rap. |
|
Tib. Talk. And I with my new broom will sweep him one swap, |
|
And then with our great club I will reach him one rap. |
|
An. Alyface. And I with our skimmer will fling him one flap. |
|
Tib. Talk. Then Trupenie's firefork will him shrewdly fray, |
|
And you with the spit may drive him quite away. |
|
C. Custance. Go, make all ready, that it may be even so. |
|
Tib. Talk. For my part I shrew them that last about it go. [Exeant. |
|
|
|
|
SCENE V |
Christian Custance. Trupenie. Tristram Trustie. |
|
|
180 |
C. Custance. Trupenie did promise me to run a great pace, |
|
My friend Tristram Trustie to fet into this place. |
|
Indeed he dwelleth hence a good start, I confess: |
|
But yet a quick messenger might twice since, as I guess, |
|
Have gone and come again. Ah, yond I spy him now. |
|
Trupenie. Ye are a slow goer, sir, I make God avow. |
|
My mistress Custance will in me put all the blame, |
|
Your legs be longer than mine: come apace for shame. |
|
C. Custance. I can thee thank, Trupenie, thou hast done right well. |
|
Trupenie. Mistress, since I went no grass hath grown on my heel, |
190 |
But master Tristram Trustie here maketh no speed. |
|
C. Custance. That he came at all, I thank him in very deed, |
|
For now have I need of the help of some wise man. |
|
T. Trustie. Then may I be gone again, for none such I [a]m. |
|
Trupenie. Ye may be by your going: for no Alderman |
|
Can go I dare say a sadder pace than ye can. |
|
C. Custance. Trupenie, get thee in, thou shalt among them know, |
|
How to use thyself, like a proper man I trow. |
|
Trupenie. I go. [Exeant. |
|
C. Custance. Now, Tristram Trustie, I thank you right much. |
|
For at my first sending to come ye never grutch. |
200 |
T. Trustie. Dame Custance, God ye save, and while my life shall last, |
|
For my friend Goodluck's sake ye shall not send in wast. |
|
C. Custance. He shall give you thanks. |
|
T. Trustie. I will do much for his sake. |
|
C. Custance. But alack, I fear, great displeasure shall be take. |
|
T. Trustie. Wherefore? |
|
C. Custance. For a foolish matter. |
|
T. Trustie. What is your cause? |
|
C. Custance. I am ill accombred with a couple of daws. |
|
T. Trustie. Nay, weep not, woman: but tell me what your cause is. |
|
As concerning my friend is anything amiss? |
|
C. Custance. No, not on my part: but here was Sym Suresby. |
|
T. Trustie. He was with me and told me so. |
|
C. Custance. And he stood by |
210 |
While Ralph Roister Doister with help of Merygreeke, |
|
For promise of marriage did unto me seek. |
|
T. Trustie. And had ye made any promise before them twain? |
|
C. Custance. No, I had rather be torn in pieces and slain, |
|
No man hath my faith and troth, but Gawyn Goodluck, |
|
And that before Suresby did I say, and there stuck, |
|
But of certain letters there were such words spoken. |
|
T. Trustie. He told me that too. |
|
C. Custance. And of a ring and token. |
|
That Suresby I spied did more than half suspect, |
|
That I my faith to Gawyn Goodluck did reject. |
220 |
T. Trustie. But there was no such matter, dame Custance, indeed? |
|
C. Custance. If ever my head thought it, God send me ill speed. |
|
Wherefore, I beseech you, with me to be a witness, |
|
That in all my life I never intended thing less, |
|
And what a brainsick fool Ralph Roister Doister is, |
|
Yourself know well enough. |
|
T. Trustie. Ye say full true, i-wis. |
|
C. Custance. Because to be his wife I ne grant nor apply, |
|
Hither will he come, he sweareth, by and by, |
|
To kill both me and mine, and beat down my house flat. |
|
Therefore I pray your aid. |
|
T. Trustie. I warrant you that. |
230 |
C. Custance. Have I so many years lived a sober life, |
|
And showed myself honest, maid, widow, and wife, |
|
And now to be abused in such a vile sort? |
|
Ye see how poor widows live all void of comfort. |
|
T. Trustie. I warrant him do you no harm nor wrong at all. |
|
C. Custance. No, but Mathew Merygreeke doth me most appall, |
|
That he would join himself with such a wretched lout. |
|
T. Trustie. He doth it for a jest, I know him out of doubt, |
|
And here cometh Merygreeke. |
|
C. Custance. Then shall we hear his mind. |
|
|
|
|
SCENE VI |
Merygreeke. Christian Custance. Trist. Trustie. |
|
|
|
M. Mery. Custance and Trustie both, I do you here well find. |
|
C. Custance. Ah, Mathew Merygreeke, ye have used me well. |
241 |
M. Mery. Now for altogether ye must your answer tell. |
|
Will ye have this man, woman? or els will ye not? |
|
Else will he come never boar so brim nor toast so hot. |
|
Tris. and Cus. But why join ye with him? |
|
T. Trustie. For mirth? |
|
C. Custance. Or else in sadness? |
|
M. Mery. The more fond of you both hardly that matter guess. |
|
T. Trustie. Lo, how say ye, dame? |
|
M. Mery. Why do ye think, dame Custance, |
|
That in this wooing I have meant ought but pastance? |
|
C. Custance. Much things ye spake, I wot, to maintain his dotage. |
|
M. Mery. But well might ye judge I spake it all in mockage. |
250 |
For why? Is Roister Doister a fit husband for you? |
|
T. Trustie. I daresay ye never thought it. |
|
M. Mery. No, to God I vow. |
|
And did not I know afore of the insurance |
|
Between Gawyn Goodluck and Christian Custance? |
|
And did not I for the nonce, by my conveyance, |
|
Read his letter in a wrong sense for dalliance? |
|
That if you could have take it up at the first bound, |
|
We should thereat such a sport and pastime have found, |
|
That all the whole town should have been the merrier. |
|
C. Custance. Ill ache your heads both! I was never wearier, |
260 |
Nor never more vexed since the first day I was born. |
|
T. Trustie. But very well I wist he here did all in scorn. |
|
C. Custance. But I feared thereof to take dishonesty. |
|
M. Mery. This should both have made sport and showed your honesty, |
|
And Goodluck, I dare swear, your wit therein would low. |
|
T. Trustie. Yea, being no worse than we know it to be now. |
|
M. Mery. And nothing yet too late; for when I come to him, |
|
Hither will he repair with a sheep's look full grim, |
|
By plain force and violence to drive you to yield. |
|
C. Custance. If ye two bid me, we will with him pitch a field, |
|
I and my maids together. |
270 |
M. Mery. Let us see, be bold. |
|
C. Custance. Ye shall see women's war. |
|
T. Trustie. That fight will I behold. |
|
M. Mery. If occasion serve, taking his part full brim, |
|
I will strike at you, but the rap shall light on him, |
|
When we first appear. |
|
C. Custance. Then will I run away |
|
As though I were afeard. |
|
T. Trustie. Do you that part well play |
|
And I will sue for peace. |
|
M. Mery. And I will set him on. |
|
Then will he look as fierce as a Cotsold lion. |
|
T. Trustie. But when goest thou for him? |
|
M. Mery. That do I very now. |
|
C. Custance. Ye shall find us here. |
|
M. Mery. Well, God have mercy on you. [Ex. |
280 |
T. Trustie. There is no cause of fear; the least boy in the street - |
|
C. Custance. Nay, the least girl I have, will make him take his feet. |
|
But hark! me think they make preparation. |
|
T. Trustie. No force, it will be a good recreation. |
|
C. Custance. I will stand within, and step forth speedily, |
|
And so make as though I ran away dreadfully. |
|
|
|
|
SCENE VII |
R. Roister. M. Merygreeke. C. Custance. D. Doughtie. Harpax. Tristram Trustie. |
|
|
|
R. Roister. Now, sirs, keep your ray, and see your hearts be stout. |
|
But where be these caitiffs? methink they dare not rout. |
|
How sayest thou, Merygreeke? What doth Kit Custance say? |
|
M. Mery. I am loth to tell you. |
|
R. Roister. Tush, speak, man: yea or nay? |
|
M. Mery. Forsooth, sir, I have spoken for you all that I can. |
291 |
But if ye win her, ye must e'en play the man, |
|
E'en to fight it out, ye must a man's heart take. |
|
R. Roister. Yes, they shall know, and thou knowest I have a stomach. |
|
[M. Mery. ] A stomach (quod you), yea, as good as e'er man had. |
|
R. Roister. I trow they shall find and feel that I am a lad. |
|
M. Mery. By this cross, I have seen you eat your meat as well |
|
As any that e'er I have seen of or heard tell. |
|
A stomach, quod you? he that will that deny, |
|
I know, was never at dinner in your company. |
300 |
R. Roister. Nay, the stomach of a man it is that I mean. |
|
M. Mery. Nay, the stomach of a horse or a dog, I ween. |
|
R. Roister. Nay, a man's stomach with a weapon, mean I. |
|
M. Mery. Ten men can scarce match you with a spoon in a pie. |
|
R. Roister. Nay, the stomach of a man to try in strife. |
|
M. Mery. I never saw your stomach cloyed yet in my life. |
|
R. Roister. Tush, I mean in strife or fighting to try. |
|
M. Mery. We shall see how ye will strike now, being angry. |
|
R. Roister. Have at thy pate then, and save thy head if thou may. |
|
M. Mery. Nay, then have at your pate again by this day. |
|
R. Roister. Nay, thou mayst not strike at me again in no wise. |
311 |
M. Mery. I cannot in fight make to you such warrantise: |
|
But as for your foes, here let them the bargain bie. |
|
R. Roister. Nay, as for they, shall every mother's child die. |
|
And in this my fume a little thing might make me |
|
To beat down house and all, and else the devil take me. |
|
M. Mery. If I were as ye be, by Gog's dear mother, |
|
I would not leave one stone upon another, |
|
Though she would redeem it with twenty thousand pounds. |
|
R. Roister. It shall be even so, by his lily wounds. |
320 |
M. Mery. Be not at one with her upon any amends. |
|
R. Roister. No, though she make to me never so many friends. |
|
Nor if all the world for her would undertake, |
|
No, not God himself neither, shall not her peace make, |
|
On, therefore, march forward, soft, stay a while yet. |
|
M. Mery. On. |
|
R. Roister. Tarry. |
|
M. Mery. Forth. |
|
R. Roister. Back. |
|
M. Mery. On. |
|
R. Roister. Soft. Now forward set. |
|
C. Custance. What business have we here? Out! alas, alas! |
|
R. Roister. Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha! |
|
Didst thou see that, Merygreeke, how afraid she was? |
|
Didst thou see how she fled apace out of my sight? |
|
Ah, good sweet Custance, I pity her by this light. |
330 |
M. Mery. That tender heart of yours will mar altogether, |
|
Thus will ye be turned with wagging of a feather. |
|
R. Roister. On, sirs, keep your ray. |
|
M. Mery. On, forth, while this gear is hot. |
|
R. Roister. Soft, the arms of Caleys, I have one thing forgot. |
|
M. Mery. What lack we now? |
|
R. Roister. Retire, or else we be all slain. |
|
M. Mery. Back, for the pash of God! back, sirs, back again! |
|
What is the great matter? |
|
R. Roister. This hasty forthgoing |
|
Had almost brought us all to utter undoing, |
|
It made me forget a thing most necessary. |
|
M. Mery. Well remembered of a captain, by Saint Mary. |
|
R. Roister. It is a thing must be had. |
340 |
M. Mery. Let us have it then. |
|
R. Roister. But I wot not where nor how. |
|
M. Mery. Then wot not I when. |
|
But what is it? |
|
R. Roister. Of a chief thing I am to seek. |
|
M. Mery. Tut, so will ye be, when ye have studied a week. |
|
But tell me what it is? |
|
R. Roister. I lack yet an headpiece. |
|
M. Mery. The kitchen collocavit, the best hens to grece, |
|
Run, fet it, Dobinet, and come at once withal, |
|
And bring with thee my potgun, hanging by the wall. [Exit Dobinet. |
|
I have seen your head with it full many a time, |
|
Covered as safe as it had been with a skrine: |
350 |
And I warrant it save your head from any stroke, |
|
Except perchance to be amazed with the smoke: |
|
I warrant your head therewith, except for the mist, |
|
As safe as if it were fast locked up in a chest: |
|
And lo, here our Dobinet cometh with it now. [Re-enter Dobinet. |
|
D. Doughtie. It will cover me to the shoulders well enow. |
|
M. Mery. Let me see it on. |
|
R. Roister. In faith, it doth metely well. |
|
M. Mery. There can be no fitter thing. Now ye must us tell |
|
What to do. |
|
R. Roister. Now forth in ray, sirs, and stop no more. |
|
M. Mery. Now, Saint George to borrow, drum dub-a-dub afore. |
|
T. Trustie. What mean you to do, sir, commit manslaughter? |
361 |
R. Roister. To kill forty such is a matter of laughter. |
|
T. Trustie. And who is it, sir, whom ye intend thus to spill? |
|
R. Roister. Foolish Custance here forceth me against my will. |
|
T. Trustie. And is there no mean your extreme wrath to slake? |
|
She shall some amends unto your good maship make. |
|
R. Roister. I will none amends. |
|
T. Trustie. Is her offence so sore? |
|
M. Mery. And he were a lout she could have done no more. |
|
She hath called him fool, and dressed him like a fool, |
|
Mocked him like a fool, used him like a fool. |
370 |
T. Trustie. Well, yet the sheriff, the justice, or constable, |
|
Her misdemeanour to punish might be able. |
|
R. Roister. No, sir, I mine own self will, in this present cause, |
|
Be sheriff, and justice, and whole judge of the laws, |
|
This matter to amend, all officers be I shall, |
|
Constable, bailiff, sergeant. |
|
M. Mery. And hangman and all. |
|
T. Trustie. Yet a noble courage, and the heart of a man, |
|
Should more honour win by bearing with a woman. |
|
Therefore take the law, and let her answer thereto. |
|
R. Roister. Merygreeke, the best way were even so to do. |
380 |
What honour should it be with a woman to fight? |
|
M. Mery. And what then, will ye thus forgo and lese your right? |
|
R. Roister. Nay, I will take the law on her withouten grace. |
|
T. Trustie. Or if your maship could pardon this one trespace, |
|
I pray you forgive her. |
|
R. Roister. Hoh! |
|
M. Mery. Tush, tush, sir, do not. |
|
Be good, master, to her. |
|
R. Roister. Hoh! |
|
M. Mery. Tush, I say, do not. |
|
And what, shall your people here return straight home? |
|
T. Trustie. Yea; levy the camp, sirs, and hence again each one. |
|
R. Roister. But be still in readiness, if I hap to call, |
|
I cannot tell what sudden chance may befall. |
390 |
M. Mery. Do not off your harness, sirs, I you advise, |
|
At the least for this fortnight in no manner wise, |
|
Perchance in an hour when all ye think least, |
|
Our master's appetite to fight will be best. |
|
But soft, ere ye go, have one at Custance house. |
|
R. Roister. Soft, what wilt thou do? |
|
M. Mery. Once discharge my harquebouse, |
|
And, for my heart's ease, have once more with my potgun. |
|
R. Roister. Hold thy hands, else is all our purpose clean fordone. |
|
M. Mery. And it cost me my life. |
|
R. Roister. I say, thou shalt not. |
|
M. Mery. By the matte, but I will. Have once more with hail shot. |
400 |
I will have some pennyworth, I will not lese all. |
|
|
|
|
SCENE VIII |
M. Merygreeke. C. Custance. R. Roister. Tib. Talk. An. Alyface. M. Mumblecrust. Trupenie. Dobinet Doughtie. Harpax. Two drums with their ensigns. |
|
|
|
C. Custance. What caitiffs are those that so shake my house wall? |
|
M. Mery. Ah, sirrah! now Custance, if ye had so much wit, |
|
I would see you ask pardon, and yourselves submit. |
|
C. Custance. Have I still this ado with a couple of fools? |
|
M. Mery. Hear ye what she saith? |
|
C. Custance. Maidens come forth with your tools. |
|
R. Roister. In a ray. |
|
M. Mery. Dubba dub, sirrah. |
|
R. Roister. In a ray. |
|
They come suddenly on us. |
|
M. Mery. Dubbadub. |
|
R. Roister. In a ray. |
|
That ever I was born, we are taken tardy. |
|
M. Mery. Now, sirs, quit ourselves like tall men and hardy. |
410 |
C. Custance. On afore, Trupenie; hold thine own, Annot; |
|
On toward them, Tibet, for 'scape us they cannot. |
|
Come forth, Madge Mumblecrust, to stand fast together. |
|
M. Mery. God send us a fair day. |
|
R. Roister. See, they march on hither. |
|
Tib. Talk. But, mistress - |
|
C. Custance. What sayest you? |
|
Tib. Talk. Shall I go fet our goose? |
|
C. Custance. What to do? |
|
Tib. Talk. To yonder captain I will turn her loose, |
|
And she gape and hiss at him, as she doth at me, |
|
I durst jeopard my hand she will make him flee. |
|
C. Custance. On forward. |
|
R. Roister. They come. |
|
M. Mery. Stand. |
|
R. Roister. Hold. |
|
M. Mery. Keep. |
|
R. Roister. There. |
|
M. Mery. Strike. |
|
R. Roister. Take heed. |
|
C. Custance. Well said, Trupenie. |
|
Trupenie. Ah, whoresons. |
|
C. Custance. Well done, indeed. |
|
M. Mery. Hold thine own, Harpax; down with them, Dobinet. |
|
C. Custance. Now Madge, there Annot: now stick them, Tibet. |
422 |
Tib. Talk. All my chief quarrel is to this same little knave, |
|
That beguiled me last day, nothing shall him save. |
|
D. Doughtie. Down with this little quean, that hath at me such spite; |
|
Save you from her, master, it is a very sprite. |
|
C. Custance. I myself will mounsire grand captain undertake. |
|
R. Roister. They win ground. |
|
M. Mery. Save yourself, sir, for God's sake. |
|
R. Roister. Out, alas! I am slain, help! |
|
M. Mery. Save yourself. |
|
R. Roister. Alas! |
|
M. Mery. Nay, then, have at you, mistress. |
|
R. Roister. Thou hittest me, alas! |
|
M. Mery. I will strike at Custance here. |
|
R. Roister. Thou hittest me. |
430 |
M. Mery. So I will. |
|
Nay, mistress Custance. |
|
R. Roister. Alas! thou hittest me still. |
|
Hold. |
|
M. Mery. Save yourself, sir. |
|
R. Roister. Help! out, alas! I am slain. |
|
M. Mery. Truce, hold your hands; truce for a pissing while or twain: |
|
Nay, how say you, Custance, for saving of your life, |
|
Will ye yield and grant to be this gentman's wife? |
|
C. Custance. Ye told me he loved me; call ye this love? |
|
M. Mery. He loved a while even like a turtle-dove. |
|
C. Custance. Gay love, God save it: so soon hot, so soon cold. |
|
M. Mery. I am sorry for you: he could love you yet, so he could. |
|
R. Roister. Nay, by Cock's precious, she shall be none of mine. |
441 |
M. Mery. Why so? |
|
R. Roister. Come away, by the matte she is mankine. |
|
I durst adventure the loss of my right hand, |
|
If she did not slee her other husband: |
|
And see if she prepare not again to fight. |
|
M. Mery. What then? Saint George to borrow, our ladies' knight. |
|
R. Roister. Slee else whom she will, by gog she shall not slee me. |
|
M. Mery. How then? |
|
R. Roister. Rather than to be slain, I will flee. |
|
C. Custance. To it again, my knightesses; down with them all. |
|
R. Roister. Away, away, away! she will else kill us all. |
450 |
M. Mery. Nay, stick to it, like an hardy man and a tall. |
|
R. Roister. Oh bones, thou hittest me! Away, or else die we shall. |
|
M. Mery. Away, for the pashe of our sweet Lord Jesus Christ. |
|
C. Custance. Away, lout and lubber, or I shall be thy priest. [Exeant om. |
|
So this field is ours, we have driven them all away. |
|
Tib. Talk. Thanks to God, mistress, ye have had a fair day. |
|
C. Custance. Well, now go ye in, and make yourself some good cheer. |
|
Omnes pariter. We go. |
|
T. Trustie. Ah, sir, what a field we have had here! |
|
C. Custance. Friend Tristram, I pray you be a witness with me. |
|
T. Trustie. Dame Custance, I shall depose for your honesty, |
460 |
And now fare ye well, except something else ye would. |
|
C. Custance. Not now, but when I need to send I will be bold. |
|
I thank you for these pains. [Exeat.] And now I will get me in. |
|
Now Roister Doister will no more wooing begin. [Exeat. |
|
|
|
|
ACT V |
SCENE I |
Gawyn Goodluck. Sym Suresby. |
|
|
|
G. Good. Sym Suresby, my trusty man, now advise thee well, |
|
And see that no false surmises thou me tell, |
|
Was there such ado about Custance of a truth? |
|
Sym Sure. To report that I heard and saw, to me is ruth, |
|
But both my duty and name and property |
|
Warneth me to you to show fidelity. |
|
It may be well enough, and I wish it so to be, |
|
She may herself discharge and try her honesty. |
|
Yet their claim to her methought was very large, |
10 |
For with letters, rings and tokens, they did her charge. |
|
Which when I heard and saw I would none to you bring. |
|
G. Good. No, by Saint Marie, I allow thee in that thing. |
|
Ah, sirrah, now I see truth in the proverb old, |
|
All things that shineth is not by and by pure gold. |
|
If any do live a woman of honesty, |
|
I would have sworn Christian Custance had been she. |
|
Sym Sure. Sir, though I to you be a servant true and just, |
|
Yet do not ye therefore your faithful spouse mistrust. |
|
But examine the matter, and if ye shall it find |
20 |
To be all well, be not ye for my words unkind. |
|
G. Good. I shall do that is right, and as I see cause why. |
|
But here cometh Custance forth, we shall know by and by. |
|
|
|
|
SCENE II |
C. Custance. Gawyn Goodluck. Sym Suresby. |
|
|
|
C. Custance. I come forth to see and hearken for news good, |
|
For about this hour is the time of likelihood, |
|
That Gawyn Goodluck by the sayings of Suresby |
|
Would be at home, and lo, yound I see him, I. |
|
What! Gawyn Goodluck, the only hope of my life! |
|
Welcome home, and kiss me your true espoused wife. |
|
G. Good. Nay, soft, dame Custance; I must first, by your licence, |
30 |
See whether all things be clear in your conscience. |
|
I hear of your doings to me very strange. |
|
C. Custance. What fear ye, that my faith towards you should change? |
|
G. Good. I must needs mistrust ye be elsewhere entangled. |
|
For I hear that certain men with you have wrangled |
|
About the promise of marriage by you to them made. |
|
C. Custance. Could any man's report your mind therein persuade? |
|
G. Good. Well, ye must therein declare yourself to stand clear, |
|
Else I and you, dame Custance, may not join this year. |
|
C. Custance. Then would I were dead, and fair laid in my grave. |
40 |
Ah, Suresby, is this the honesty that ye have? |
|
To hurt me with your report, not knowing the thing. |
|
Sym Sure. If ye be honest my words can hurt you nothing. |
|
But what I heard and saw, I might not but report. |
|
C. Custance. Ah, Lord, help poor widows, destitute of comfort! |
|
Truly, most dear spouse, nought was done but for pastance. |
|
G. Good. But such kind of sporting is homely dalliance. |
|
C. Custance. If ye knew the truth, ye would take all in good part. |
|
G. Good. By your leave, I am not half well skilled in that art. |
|
C. Custance. It was none but Roister Doister, that foolish mome. |
|
G. Good. Yea, Custance, better (they say) a bad 'scuse than none. |
51 |
C. Custance. Why, Tristram Trustie, sir, your true and faithful friend, |
|
Was privy both to the beginning and the end. |
|
Let him be the judge, and for me testify. |
|
G. Good. I will the more credit that he shall verify, |
|
And because I will the truth know e'en as it is, |
|
I will to him myself, and know all without miss. |
|
Come on, Sym Suresby, that before my friend thou may |
|
Avouch the same words, which thou didst to me say. [Exeant. |
|
|
|
|
SCENE III |
Christian Custance. |
|
|
|
C. Custance. O Lord! how necessary it is now of days, |
60 |
That each body live uprightly all manner ways; |
|
For let never so little a gap be open, |
|
And be sure of this, the worst shall be spoken. |
|
How innocent stand I in this for deed or thought! |
|
And yet see what mistrust towards me it hath wrought. |
|
But thou, Lord, knowest all folks' thoughts and eke intents, |
|
And thou art the deliverer of all innocents. |
|
Thou didst help the advoutress, that she might be amended, |
|
Much more then help, Lord, that never ill intended. |
|
Thou didst help Susanna, wrongfully accused, |
70 |
And no less dost thou see, Lord, how I am now abused. |
|
Thou didst help Hester, when she should have died, |
|
Help also, good Lord, that my truth may be tried. |
|
Yet if Gawyn Goodluck with Tristram Trustie speak, |
|
I trust of ill report the force shall be but weak. |
|
And lo, yond they come, sadly talking together, |
|
I will abide, and not shrink for their coming hither. |
|
|
|
|
SCENE IV |
Gawyn Goodluck. Tristram Trustie. Sym Suresby. He entereth singing. |
|
|
|
G. Good. And was it none other than ye to me report? |
|
Tristram. No, and here were ye wished to have seen the sport. |
|
G. Good. Would I had, rather than half of that in my purse. |
80 |
Sym Sure. And I do much rejoice the matter was no worse, |
|
And like as to open it I was to you faithful, |
|
So of dame Custance honest truth I am joyful. |
|
For God forfend that I should hurt her by false report. |
|
G. Good. Well, I will no longer hold her in discomfort. |
|
C. Custance. Now come they hitherward, I trust all shall be well. |
|
G. Good. Sweet Custance, neither heart can think nor tongue tell, |
|
How much I joy in your constant fidelity. |
|
Come now, kiss me, the pearl of perfect honesty. |
|
C. Custance. God let me no longer to continue in life, |
90 |
Than I shall towards you continue a true wife. |
|
G. Good. Well, now to make you for this some part of amends, |
|
I shall desire first you, and then such of our friends |
|
As shall to you seem best, to sup at home with me, |
|
Where at your fought field we shall laugh and merry be. |
|
Sym Sure. And mistress, I beseech you, take with me no grief, |
|
I did a true man's part, not wishing you reprief. |
|
C. Custance. Though hasty reports through surmises growing |
|
May of poor innocents be utter overthrowing, |
|
Yet because to thy master thou hast a true heart, |
|
And I know mine own truth, I forgive thee for my part. |
101 |
G. Good. Go we all to my house, and of this gear no more. |
|
Go, prepare all things, Sym Suresby; hence, run afore. |
|
Sym Sure. I go. [Ex. |
|
G. Good. But who cometh yond, M. Merygreeke? |
|
C. Custance. Roister Doister's champion, I shrew his best cheek. |
|
T. Trustie. Roister Doister self, your wooer, is with him too. |
|
Surely some thing there is with us they have to do. |
|
|
|
|
SCENE V |
M. Merygreeke. Ralph Roister. Gawyn Goodluck. Tristram Trustie. C. Custance. |
|
|
|
M. Mery. Yond I see Gawyn Goodluck, to whom lieth my message; |
|
I will first salute him after his long voyage, |
|
And then make all thing well concerning your behalf. |
|
R. Roister. Yea, for the pash of God. |
110 |
M. Mery. Hence out of sight, ye calf, |
|
Till I have spoke with them, and then I will you fet. |
|
R. Roister. In God's name. [Exit R. Roister. |
|
M. Mery. What, master Gawyn Goodluck, well met! |
|
And from your long voyage I bid you right welcome home. |
|
G. Good. I thank you. |
|
M. Mery. I come to you from an honest mome. |
|
G. Good. Who is that? |
|
M. Mery. Roister Doister, that doughty kite. |
|
C. Custance. Fie! I can scarcely abide ye should his name recite. |
|
M. Mery. Ye must take him to favour, and pardon all past, |
|
He heareth of your return, and is full ill aghast. |
|
G. Good. I am right well content he have with us some cheer. |
120 |
C. Custance. Fie upon him, beast! then will not I be there. |
|
G. Good. Why, Custance, do ye hate him more than ye love me? |
|
C. Custance. But for your mind, sir, where he were would I not be. |
|
T. Trustie. He would make us all laugh. |
|
M. Mery. Ye ne'er had better sport. |
|
G. Good. I pray you, sweet Custance, let him to us resort. |
|
C. Custance. To your will I assent. |
|
M. Mery. Why, such a fool it is, |
|
As no man for good pastime would forgo or miss. |
|
G. Good. Fet him to go with us. |
|
M. Mery. He will be a glad man. [Ex. |
|
T. Trustie. We must to make us mirth, maintain him all we can. |
|
And lo, yond he cometh, and Merygreeke with him. |
|
C. Custance. At his first entrance ye shall see I will him trim. |
131 |
But first let us hearken the gentleman's wise talk. |
|
T. Trustie. I pray you, mark, if ever ye saw crane so stalk. |
|
|
|
|
SCENE VI |
R. Roister. M. Merygreeke. C. Custance. G. Goodluck. T. Trustie. D. Doughtie. Harpax. |
|
|
|
R. Roister. May I then be bold? |
|
M. Mery. I warrant you on my word, |
|
They say they shall be sick, but ye be at their board. |
|
R. Roister. They were not angry, then? |
|
M. Mery. Yes, at first, and made strange, |
|
But when I said your anger to favour should change, |
|
And therewith had commended you accordingly, |
|
They were all in love with your maship by and by, |
|
And cried you mercy that they had done you wrong. |
140 |
R. Roister. For why, no man, woman, nor child can hate me long. |
|
M. Mery. We fear (quod they) he will be avenged one day, |
|
Then for a penny give all our lives we may. |
|
R. Roister. Said they so indeed? |
|
M. Mery. Did they? yea, even with one voice. |
|
He will forgive all (quod I). Oh, how they did rejoice. |
|
R. Roister. Ha, ha, ha. |
|
M. Mery. Go fet him (say they) while he is in good mood, |
|
For have his anger who lust, we will not, by the Rood. |
|
R. Roister. I pray God that it be all true, that thou hast me told |
|
And that she fight no more. |
|
M. Mery. I warrant you, be bold. |
|
To them, and salute them. |
|
R. Roister. Sirs, I greet you all well. |
|
Omnes. Your mastership is welcome. |
150 |
C. Custance. Saving my quarrel. |
|
For sure I will put you up into the Exchequer. |
|
M. Mery. Why so? better nay: wherefore? |
|
C. Custance. For an usurer. |
|
R. Roister. I am no usurer, good mistress, by his arms. |
|
M. Mery. When took he gain of money to any man's harms? |
|
C. Custance. Yes, a foul usurer he is, ye shall see else. |
|
R. Roister. Didst not thou promise she would pick no mo quarrels? |
|
C. Custance. He will lend no blows, but he have in recompense |
|
Fifteen for one, which is too much of conscience. |
|
R. Roister. Ah, dame, by the ancient law of arms, a man |
160 |
Hath no honour to foil his hands on a woman. |
|
C. Custance. And where other usurers take their gains yearly, |
|
This man is angry but he have his by and by. |
|
G. Good. Sir, do not for her sake bear me your displeasure. |
|
M. Mery. Well, he shall with you talk thereof more at leisure. |
|
Upon your good usage, he will now shake your hand. |
|
R. Roister. And much heartily welcome from a strange land. |
|
M. Mery. Be not afeard, Gawyn, to let him shake your fist. |
|
G. Good. Oh, the most honest gentleman that e'er I wist. |
|
I beseech your maship to take pain to sup with us. |
170 |
M. Mery. He shall not say you nay, and I too, by Jesus, |
|
Because ye shall be friends, and let all quarrels pass. |
|
R. Roister. I will be as good friends with them as-ere I was. |
|
M. Mery. Then let me fet your quire that we may have a song. |
|
R. Roister. Go. [Exit M. Mery. |
|
G. Good. I have heard no melody all this year long. |
|
|
Re-enter M. Mery. |
|
|
|
M. Mery. Come on, sirs, quickly. |
|
R. Roister. Sing on, sirs, for my friends' sake. |
|
D. Dough. Call ye these your friends? |
|
R. Roister. Sing on, and no mo words make. [Here they sing. |
|
G. Good. The Lord preserve our most noble Queen of renown, |
|
And her virtues reward with the heavenly crown. |
|
C. Custance. The Lord strengthen her most excellent Majesty, |
180 |
Long to reign over us in all prosperity. |
|
T. Trustie. That her godly proceedings the faith to defend, |
|
He may 'stablish and maintain through to the end. |
|
M. Mery. God grant her, as she doth, the Gospel to protect, |
|
Learning and virtue to advance, and vice to correct. |
|
R. Roister. God grant her loving subjects both the mind and grace, |
|
Her most godly proceedings worthily to embrace. |
|
Harpax. Her highness' most worthy counsellors, God prosper |
|
With honour and love of all men to minister. |
|
Omnes. God grant the nobility her to serve and love, |
190 |
With all the whole commonty as doth them behove. |
|
|
Amen. |
|
|
|
|
Certain Songs to be Sung by Those Which Shall Use This Comedy or Interlude |
|
|
|
The Second Song. |
|
Whoso to marry a minion wife, |
|
Hath had good chance and hap, |
|
Must love her and cherish her all his life, |
|
And dandle her in his lap. |
|
|
|
If she will fare well, if she will go gay, |
|
A good husband ever still, |
|
Whatever she lust to do, or to say, |
|
Must let her have her own will. |
|
|
|
About what affairs soever he go, |
10 |
He must show her all his mind. |
|
None of his counsel she may be kept fro, |
|
Else is he a man unkind. |
|
|
|
|
|
The Fourth Song. |
|
I mun be married a Sunday, |
|
I mun be married a Sunday, |
|
Whosoever shall come that way, |
|
I mun be married a Sunday. |
|
|
|
Roister Doister is my name, |
|
Roister Doister is my name, |
|
A lusty brute I am the same, |
|
I mun be married a Sunday. |
|
|
|
Christian Custance have I found, |
10 |
Christian Custance have I found, |
|
A widow worth a thousand pound, |
|
I mun be married a Sunday. |
|
|
|
Custance is as sweet as honey, |
|
Custance is as sweet as honey, |
|
I her lamb and she my coney, |
|
I mun be married a Sunday. |
|
|
|
When we shall make our wedding feast, |
|
When we shall make our wedding feast, |
|
There shall be cheer for man and beast, |
20 |
I mun be married a Sunday. |
|
I mun be married a Sunday, etc. |
|
|
|
|
|
The Psalmody. |
|
Placebo dilexi, |
|
Master Roister Doister will straight go home and die, |
|
Our Lord Jesus Christ his soul have mercy upon: |
|
Thus you see to-day a man, to-morrow John. |
|
Yet saving for a woman's extreme cruelty, |
|
He might have lived yet a month or two or three, |
|
But in spite of Custance which hath him wearied, |
|
His maship shall be worshipfully buried. |
|
And while some piece of his soul is yet him within, |
|
Some part of his funerals let us here begin. |
10 |
Dirige. He will go darkling to his grave. |
|
Neque lux, neque crux, nisi solum clink, |
|
Never gentman so went toward heaven, I think. |
|
|
|
Yet, sirs, as ye will the bliss of heaven win, |
|
When he cometh to the grave lay him softly in, |
|
And all men take heed by this one gentleman, |
|
How you set your love upon an unkind woman: |
|
For these women be all such mad peevish elves, |
|
They will not be won except it please themselves, |
|
But in faith, Custance, if ever ye come in hell, |
|
Master Roister Doister shall serve you as well. 20 |
|
Good night, Roger old knave; farewell, Roger old knave. |
|
Good night, Roger old knave, knave, knap. |
|
Nequando. Audivi vocem. Requiem ceternam. |
|
|
|
|
The peal of bells rung by the parish clerk and roister doister's four men |
|
The first Bell a Triple. When died he? When died he? |
|
The second. We have him, we have him. |
|
The third. Roister Doister, Roister Doister. |
|
The fourth Bell. He cometh, he cometh. |
|
The great Bell. Our own, our own. |