A Select Collection of Old English Plays Volume Viii Part 58

MAT. What burden-bearing? whereto tends this talk?

MONK. To you, to us, this abbey, and King John.

MAT. O G.o.d, forfend he should be thought upon!

MONK. Lady, make short: the king must lie with you.

MAT. With me? with me?

[_First turns to the_ MONK, _then to the_ ABBESS.

ABB. Sweet, never look so strange: He shall come closely,[355] n.o.body shall see.

MAT. How can he come, but One hath eyes to see?

MONK. Your chamber-windows shall be shadowed.

MAT. But no veil from my conscience shadows me.

ABB. And all the nuns sent quietly to bed.

MAT. But they will rise, and by my blushing red Quickly give guess of my lost maidenhead.

BRAND. She goes, i' faith: by G.o.d, she is their own! [_Aside_.

MONK. Be not so nice, the sin is venial, Considering you yield for charity; And by your fall the nunnery shall rise.

ABB. Regard good counsel, daughter: pray, be wise.

MONK. Come, here's a stir! will't do, wench? will it do?

ABB. Say ay, say ay; forget the sound of no: Or else say no, and take it:[356] wilt thou so?

MAT. Do you intend thus lewdly as you speak?

BRAND.[357] Ay, by Gog's blood, do they; and, moppet, you were best To take their proffers, lest, if they forsake you, I play the devil's part--step in, and take you.

MAT. Some holy water! help me, blessed nuns!

Two d.a.m.ned spirits, in religious weeds, Attempt to tempt my spotless chast.i.ty; And a third devil, gaping for my soul, With horrid starings ghastly frighteth me.

ABB. You may Call while you will; but, maid, list what we say, Or be a.s.sur'd this is your dying day.

MAT. In his name that did suffer for my sin, And by this blessed sign, I conjure you.

[_Draws a crucifix_.

Depart, foul fiends, and cease to trouble me.

BRAND. 'Zounds, she thinks us devils! Hear you, conjuror, Except you use that trick to conjure down The standing spirit of my lord the king, That your good mother there, the Abbess, uses To conjure down the spirit of the monk, Not all your crosses have the power to bless Your body from a sharp and speedy death.

MAT. Are ye not fiends, but mortal bodies, then?

[_Feels them all_.

BRAND. Maid, maid, catch lower when you feel young men.

'Sblood, I was never taken for the devil till now.

MAT. O, where shall chast.i.ty have true defence, When churchmen lay this siege to innocence?

Where shall a maid have certain sanctuary, When Lady l.u.s.t rules all the nunnery?

Now fie upon ye both, false seeming saints, Incarnate devils, devilish hypocrites!

A cowled monk, an aged veiled nun, Become false panders, and with l.u.s.tful speech Essay the chaste ears of true maidenhead!

Now fie upon this age! Would I were dead!

MONK. Come, leave her, lady: she shall have her wish.

ABB. Speed her, I pray thee: should the baggage live, She'll slander all the chaste nuns in the land.

[_Exeunt_ MONK, ABBESS.

BRAND. Well, well, go; get you two unto your conjuring: Let me alone to lay her on G.o.d's ground.

MAT. Why dost thou stay?

BRAND. Why, maid, because I must: I have a message to you from the king.

MAT. And thou art welcome to his humble maid.

I thought thee to be grim and fierce at first, But now thou hast a sweet aspect, mild looks.

Art thou not come to kill me from the king?

BRAND. Yes.

MAT. And thou art welcome; even the welcom'st man That ever came unto a woful maid.

Be brief, good fellow: I have in the world No goods to give, no will at all to make; But G.o.d's will and the king's on me be done!

A little money, kept to give in alms, I have about me: deathsman, take it all; Thou art the last poor almsman I shall see.

Come, come, despatch! What weapon will death wear, When he a.s.sails me? Is it knife or sword, A strangling cord, or sudden flaming fire?

BRAND. Neither, thou manly maid. Look here, look here: A cup of poison. Wherefore dost thou smile?

MAT. O G.o.d! in this the king is merciful: My dear-lov'd Huntington by poison died.

Good fellow, tell the king I thank his grace, And do forgive his causeless cruelty.

I do forgive thee too, but do advise Thou leave this b.l.o.o.d.y course, and seek to save Thy soul immortal, closed in thy breast: [_He gives it her_.

Be brief, I pray you. Now, to King John's health A full carouse:[358] and, G.o.d, remember not The curse he gave himself at Robin's death, Wishing by poison he might end his life, If ever he solicited my love.

Farewell, good fellow. Now thy medicine works.

And with the labour I am forc'd to rest.

BRAND. 'Zounds! she cares not: she makes death a jest.

MAT. The guiltless fear not death. Farewell, good friend; I pray thee, be no trouble in my end.

[_He stands staring and quaking_.

_Enter_ OXFORD, QUEEN, ABBESS, _Attendants_.

OX. And say you, Lady Abbess, that there came One from the king unto her? what was he?