A Select Collection of Old English Plays Volume Vii Part 96

JOHN. You find it on her lips: but, forward, sir.

SKINK. 'Twas Skink in Gloster's gown, whom you did visit, That play'd at bowls, and after stole your clothes, While you went into the Lord Morton's chamber.

JOHN. This savours of some truth.

FAU. 'Tis very like.

JOHN. Well, Fauconbridge, by heaven, I'll tell your wife.

FAU. She'll much believe you! you will? Come, Tell me not of my wife[507]: this evening fail me not.

My wife, quoth you: I'll send my wife from home.

Do tell my wife, Prince John, by my dear mother, I love her too-too well to like another.

LADY F. It seems so, fox; O, what a world is this!

There most sin reigns, where least suspicion is.

FAU. You'll come?

LADY F. I will not fail, I warrant you.

JOHN. Hermit, is all this true?

SKINK. Himself, [If he] deliver not so much, before ye sleep, Root me from out the borders of this realm.

[JOHN _and_ FAUC. _retire a little_.

JOHN. Well, by your leave, Sir Richard Fauconbridge, Hence, free from fear; you'll melt, you'll melt, old man.

FAU. Nay, take her to you; she's a shrew, I warrant.

I'll to the holy hermit, and inquire About my chain, your sword, the pursuivant, And other matters, that I have to ask.

[_He returns_; JOHN _addresses the_ LADY.

SKINK. You're welcome, good Sir Richard.

JOHN. Nay, do not stand on terms; I am fire, all life, Nor never tell me, that I have a wife.

I do not mean to marry; ye think so!

But to be merry you the manner know.

And you will have me, have me--'ppoint a meeting; I'll be your true love, you shall be my sweeting.

If you deny to promise, this is plain I'll have my will, ere you get home again.

LADY F. Most gracious lord.

JOHN. Tut, tell not me of grace: I like no goodness but a beauteous face.

Be therefore brief; give me your hand and swear, Or I'll away with you into the heath: Neither shall Fauconbridge nor hermit help, And what I do I'll answer well enough.

LADY F. Why, then, my lord.

JOHN. Nay, do not stand on them:[508]

But tell me, when my lord shall have you, Lady; It's presently I venture for a baby.

LADY F. This night at Stepney, by my summer-house, There is a tavern which I sometimes use, When we from London come a-gossiping; It is the Hind.

JOHN. Give me thy pretty hand: Thou'lt meet me at the Hind? I'll be thy roe.

LADY F. One word's enough.

JOHN. Suffice; then be it so.

LADY F. I'll fit my old adulterer and your grace, I'll send the Princess thither in my place. [_Aside_.

FAU. Prince John, Prince John, the hermit tells me wonders; He says it was Skink that 'scap'd us at the tavern: Skink had my chain--nay, sure, that Skink did all.

SKINK. I say, go but to yonder corner, And ere the sun be half an hour higher, There will the thief attempt a robbery.

JOHN. Who? Skink?

FAU. Will Skink?

SKINK. Ay, Skink, upon my word.

FAU. Shall we go seize upon him, good Prince John?

JOHN. Nay, we will have him, that's no question.

And yet not hurt the honest rogue.

He'll help us well in quest of changing Gloster.

Hermit, farewell; Lady, keep your hour.

FAU. Adieu, old hermit: soon in the evening, la.s.s.

LADY F. I'll meet you both, and meet with[509] both of you.

Father, what answer do you give to me?

SKINK. Lady, start down; I must into my cell, Where I am curing of a man late hurt; He dress'd, I must unto my orisons; In half an hour all will be despatch'd, And then I will attend your ladyship.

[_Exit_.

LADY F. At your best leisure, father. O, the life, That this thrice-reverend hermit leadeth here.

How far remote from mortal vanities, Baits to the soul, enticements to the eye!

How far is he unlike my l.u.s.tful lord?

Who being given himself to be unchaste, Thinks all men like himself in their effects, And injures me, that never had a thought To wrong the sacred rights of spotless faith.

_Enter_ SKINK _with a patch on his face, and a falconer's lure in his hand_.[510]

SKINK. Hermit, farewell, I'll pay ye or speak with ye next time I see ye. Sweet mouse, the hermit bids you stay here; he'll visit you anon.

Now, John and Fauconbridge, I'll match ye, and I do not say Skink's a wretch, a wren, a worm. When I have trick'd them, madam, I will trim you. Commodity is to be preferr'd before pleasure. About profit, Skink; for crowns, for crowns, that make the kingly thoughts!

[_Exit_.

LADY F. (_to the hermit supposed within_.) I am a.s.sur'd that man's some murderer.

Good Father Hermit, speak and comfort me; Are ye at prayers, good old man? I pray ye, speak.