A Select Collection of Old English Plays Volume Vii Part 66

COOMES. They say men moil and toil for a poor living; so I moil and toil, and am living, I thank G.o.d; in good time be it spoken. It had been better for me my mistress's angel had been light, for then perhaps it had not led me into this darkness. Well, the devil never blesses a man better, when he purses up angels by owl-light. I ran through a hedge to take the boy, but I stuck in the ditch, and lost the boy. [_Falls_.]

'Swounds, a plague on that clod, that molehill, that ditch, or what the devil so e'er it were, for a man cannot see what it was! Well, I would not, for the price of my sword and buckler, anybody should see me in this taking, for it would make me but cut off their legs for laughing at me. Well, down I am, and down I mean to be, because I am weary; but to tumble down thus, it was no part of my meaning: then, since I am down, here I'll rest me, and no man shall remove me.

_Enter_ HODGE.

HOD. O, I have sport in coney, i'faith! I have almost burst myself with laughing at Mistress Barnes. She was following of her daughter; and I, hearing her, put on my fellow d.i.c.k's sword-and-buckler voice and his _swounds_ and _sblood_ words, and led her such a dance in the dark as it pa.s.ses.[381] "Here she is," quoth I. "Where?" quoth she. "Here," quoth I.

O, it hath been a brave here-and-there night! but, O, what a soft-natured thing the dirt is! how it would endure my hard treading, and kiss my feet for acquaintance! and how courteous and mannerly were the clods[382] to make me stumble only of purpose to entreat me lie down and rest me! But now, and I could find my fellow d.i.c.k, I would play the knave with him honestly, i'faith. Well, I will grope in the dark for him, or I'll poke with my staff, like a blind man, to prevent a ditch.

[_He stumbles[383] on_ d.i.c.k COOMES.

COOMES. Who's that, with a pox?

HOD. Who art thou, with a pestilence?

COOMES. Why, I am d.i.c.k Coomes.

HOD. What, have I found thee. d.i.c.k? nay, then, I am for ye, d.i.c.k, [_Aside_.]

--Where are ye, d.i.c.k?

COOMES. What can I tell, where I am?

HOD. Can ye not tell? come, come, ye wait on your mistress well! come on your ways; I have sought you, till I am weary, and call'd ye, till I am hoa.r.s.e: good Lord, what a jaunt I have had this night, heigho!

COOMES. Is't you, mistress, that came over me? 'Sblood, 'twere a good deed to come over you for this night's work. I cannot afford all this pains for an angel: I tell ye true; a kiss were not cast away upon a good fellow, that hath deserved more that way than a kiss, if your kindness would afford it him: what, shall I have't, mistress?

HOD. Fie, fie, I must not kiss my man.

COOMES. Nay, nay, ne'er stand; shall I, shall I? n.o.body sees: say but I shall, and I'll smack it[384] soundly, i'faith.

HOD. Away, bawdy man! in truth, I'll tell your master.

COOMES. My master! go to, ne'er tell me of my master: he may pray for them that may, he is past it: and for mine own part, I can do somewhat that way, I thank G.o.d; I am not now to learn, and 'tis your part to have your whole desire.

HOD. Fie, fie, I am ashamed of you: would you tempt your mistress to lewdness?

COOMES. To lewdness! no, by my troth, there's no such matter in't, it is for kindness; and, by my troth, if you like my gentle offer, you shall have what courteously I can afford ye.

HOD. Shall I indeed, d.i.c.k? I'faith, if I thought n.o.body would see--

COOMES. Tush, fear not that; swoons, they must have cats' eyes, then.

HOD. Then, kiss me, d.i.c.k.

COOMES. A kind wench, i'faith! [_Aside_.]--Where are ye, mistress?

HOD. Here, d.i.c.k. O, I am in the dark! d.i.c.k, go about.[385]

COOMES. Nay, I'll throw[386] sure: where are ye?

HOD. Here.

COOMES. A plague on this post! I would the carpenter had been hang'd, that set it up, for me.[387] Where are ye now?

HOD. Here.

COOMES. Here! O, I come. [_Exit_.] A plague on it, I am in a pond, mistress!

HOD. Ha, ha! I have led him into a pond.--Where art thou, d.i.c.k?

COOMES. [_Within_.] Up to the middle in a pond!

HOD. Make a boat of thy buckler, then, and swim out. Are ye so hot, with a pox? would you kiss my mistress? cool ye there, then, good d.i.c.k Coomes.

O, when he comes forth, the skirts of his blue coat will drop like a pent[388]-house! O, that I could see, and not be seen; how he would spaniel it, and shake himself, when he comes out of the pond! But I'll be gone; for now he'll fight with a fly, if he but buzz[389] in his ear.

[_Exit_.

_Enter_ COOMES.

COOMES. Here's so-ho-ing with a plague! so hang, and ye will; for I have been almost drown'd. A pox of your stones,[390] and ye call this kissing!

Ye talk of a drowned rat, but 'twas time to swim like a dog; I had been serv'd like a drown'd cat else. I would he had digg'd his grave that digg'd the pond! my feet were foul indeed, but a less pail than a pond would have served my turn to wash them. A man shall be serv'd thus always, when he follows any of these females: but 'tis my kind heart that makes me thus forward in kindness unto them: well, G.o.d amend them, and make them thankful to them that would do them pleasure. I am not drunk, I would ye should well know it; and yet I have drunk more than will do me good, for I might have had a pump set up with as[391] good March beer as this was, and ne'er set up an ale-bush for the matter.

Well, I am somewhat in wrath, I must needs say; and yet I am not more angry than wise, nor more wise than angry; but I'll fight with the next man I meet, and it be but for luck's sake; and if he love to see himself hurt, let him bring light with him; I'll do it by darkling else, by G.o.d's dines. Well, here will I walk, whosoever says nay.

_Enter_ NICHOLAS.

NICH. He that worse may, must hold the candle; but my master is not so wise, as G.o.d might have made him. He is gone to seek a hare in a hen's nest, a needle in a bottle of hay, which is as seldom seen as a black swan: he is gone to seek my young mistress; and I think she is better lost than found, for whosoever hath her, hath but a wet eel by the tail.

But they may do, as they list; the law is in their own hands; but, and they would be rul'd by me, they should set her on the lee-land, and bid the devil split her; beshrew her fingers, she hath made me watch past mine hour; but I'll watch her a good turn for it.

COOMES. How, who's that? Nicholas!--So, first come, first serv'd; I am for him [_Aside_].

--How now, Proverb, Proverb? 'sblood, how now, Proverb?

NICH. My name is Nicholas, Richard; and I know your meaning, and I hope ye mean no harm. I thank ye: I am the better for your asking.

COOMES. Where have ye been a-whoring thus late, ha?

NICH. Master Richard, the good wife would not seek her daughter in the oven, unless she had been there herself: but, good Lord, you are knuckle-deep in dirt!--I warrant, when he was in, he swore Walsingham[392], and chaf'd terrible for the time. [_Aside_.]

--Look, the water drops from you as fast as hops.

COOMES. What need'st thou to care, whip-her-Jenny[393], tripe-cheeks?[394], out, you fat a.s.s!

NICH. Good words cost nought: ill words corrupt good manners, Richard; for a hasty man never wants woe. And I had thought you had been my friend; but I see all is not gold that glitters; there's falsehood in fellowship; _amicus certus in re certa cernitur_; time and truth tries all; and 'tis an old proverb, and not so old as true, bought wit is the best; I can see day at a little hole; I know your mind as well as though I were within you; 'tis ill halting before a cripple: go to, you seek to quarrel; but beware of had I wist[395]; so long goes the pot to the water, at length it comes home broken; I know you are as good a man as ever drew sword, or as was e'er girt in a girdle, or as e'er went on neat's leather, or as one shall see upon a summer's day, or as e'er look'd man in the face, or as e'er trod on G.o.d's earth, or as e'er broke bread or drunk drink; but he is proper that hath proper conditions[396]; but be not you like the cow, that gives a good sop of milk, and casts it down with her[397] heels; I speak plainly, for plain-dealing is a jewel, and he that useth it shall die a beggar; well, that happens in an hour, that happens not in seven years; a man is not so soon whole as hurt; and you should kill a man, you would kiss his--well, I say little, but I think the more. Yet I'll give him good words; 'tis good to hold a candle before the devil; yet, by G.o.d's dine[398], I'll take no wrong, if he had a head as big as Bra.s.s[399], or look'd as high as Paul's steeple.

[_Aside_.]

COOMES. Sirrah, thou gra.s.shopper, that shalt skip from my sword as from a scythe; I'll cut thee out in collops and eggs, in steaks, in slic'd beef, and fry thee with the fire I shall strike from the pike of thy buckler.

NICH. Ay, Brag's a good dog; threat'ned folks live long.

COOMES. What say ye, sir?

NICH. Why, I say not so much as, How do ye?

COOMES. Do ye not so, sir?