A Select Collection of Old English Plays Volume Vii Part 95

BLO. Very sick, sick, and like to die! I'll sing it, and you will.

ROB. Away, ye knave; tell him, in the morning I'll humbly wait upon his excellence.

BLO. That's all his desire to have ye lowly and humble, and 'tis a courteous thing in a lady.

[_Exit_.

ROB. Hence, or else I'll set you hence. Go in, good friend.

Come, Lady Fauconbridge; it's time to come; Robin can hold out no longer, I see: Hot wooers will be tempters presently.

[_Exit_.

SCENE THE TWENTY-FIFTH.

_Enter_ SKINK _like a Hermit_.

SKINK. Now, holy Skink, in thy religious weed, Look out for purchase or thy wonted clients.

Warrants, quoth you? I was fairly warranted; Young Robin Hood, the Earl of Huntington, Shall never fetch me more unto his prince.

_Enter_ LADY FAUCONBRIDGE, _in Merchant's Wife's attire_.

But, _pauca verba_, Skink! a prize, a prize; By th'ma.s.s, a pretty girl; close, hermit, close.

Overhear, if thou canst, what she desires, For so my cunning and my credit spreads.

LADY F. See, how affection arms my feeble strength, To this so desperate journeying all alone, While Robin Hood, young Earl of Huntington, Plays Lady Fauconbridge for me at home.

SKINK. What mystery is this? The Lady Fauconbridge!

It's she? Sweet fortune, thou hast sent her well; I will entice this morsel to my cell.

Her husband's jealous; I will give him cause.

As he believes, I hope it shall succeed.

Nay, swounds, it shall; she's mine in scorn of speed.

LADY F. By this broad beaten path, it should appear, The holy hermit's cave cannot be far, And if I err not, this is he himself.

SKINK. What honour'd tongue enquireth for the hermit?

LADY F. What honour'd tongue?

SKINK. Ay, Lady Fauconbridge, I know ye, and I know for what ye come, For Gloster and your husband's jealousy.

LADY F. O thou, whose eye of contemplation Looks through the windows of the highest heavens, Resolve thy handmaid, where Earl Gloster lives: And whether he shall live, and 'scape the hate Of proud young Henry and his brother John?

SKINK. I'll have you first in; I'll tell you more anon.

Madam, they say bushes have ears and eyes; And these are matters of great secrecy; And you'll vouchsafe enter my holy cell, There what you long to know I'll quickly tell.

_Enter_ JOHN _and_ FAUCONBRIDGE.

LADY F. Stay, here are strangers.

SKINK. A plague upon them, come they in the nick, To hinder Reynard[506] of his fox's trick?

[LADY FAUCONBRIDGE _retires a little_.

JOHN. Good day, old hermit.

FAU. So to you, fair dame.

JOHN. By Elinor's grey eye, she's fair indeed.

Sweet heart, come ye for holy benisons?

Hermit, hast thou good custom with such clients?

I cannot blame your feats, your juggling tricks, Plague juggle you!

LADY F. Why curse ye sacred worth?

FAU. Ill done, in sooth, my Lord, very ill done, Wrong holiness! a very pretty woman! [_aside_.]

Mock gravity! by the ma.s.s a cherry lip! [_aside_.]

Ah, it's not well done [to] deride a holy hermit!

JOHN. I have it in my purse shall make amends.

SKINK. His purse and yours shall make me some amends For hind'ring me this morning from the lady; For scaring me at tavern yesternight: For having back your chain, I'll fit you both. [_Aside_.

JOHN. Hermit, a word.

FAU. A word with you, fair mistress.

JOHN. Where lie your devils, that tell all your news?

Would you would trouble them for half an hour, To know what is become of traitor Gloster, That in my clothes broke prison in the Fleet?

SKINK. No, it was Skink.

JOHN. Come, old fool, ye dote.

SKINK. But hear me.

FAU. Hear him, Prince.

JOHN. 'Swounds, who hears you?

I'll make your lady graft ye for this work.-- [_Aside_.]

--But to your tale, sir.

SKINK. Know, thrice-honoured Prince, That Skink did cosen Redcap of his clothes, Gloster did cosen Skink, and so escap'd.

JOHN. Well done, Fauconbridge!

FAU. My lord, he tells you true.