A Select Collection of Old English Plays Volume Ix Part 62

SOPHOS.

I'll prove as true as ever Troilus was.

LELIA.

And I as constant as Penelope.

SOPHOS.

Then let us solace, and in love's delight And sweet embracings spend the livelong night; And whilst love mounts her on her wanton wings, Let descant run on music's silver strings.

[_Exeunt_.

A SONG.

1.

_Old Triton must forsake his dear, The lark doth chant her cheerful lay; Aurora smiles with merry cheer, To welcome in a happy day_.

2.

_The beasts do skip, The sweet birds sing; The wood-nymphs dance, The echoes ring_.

3.

_The hollow caves with joy resounds, And pleasure ev'rywhere abounds; The Graces, linking hand in hand, In love have knit a glorious band_.

_Enter_ ROBIN GOODFELLOW, _old_ PLOD-ALL, _and his son_ PETER.

PLOD-ALL.

Hear you, Master Goodfellow, how have you sped?

PETER PLOD-ALL.

Ha' you played the devil bravely, and feared the scholar out on's wits?

ROBIN GOODFELLOW.

A pox of the scholar!

PLOD-ALL.

Nay, hark you: I sent you vorty shillings, and you shall have the cheese I promised you too.

ROBIN GOODFELLOW.

A plague of the vorty shillings, and the cheese too!

PETER PLOD-ALL.

Hear you, will you give me the powder you told me of?

ROBIN GOODFELLOW.

How you vex me! Powder, quotha? zounds, I have been powdered.

PLOD-ALL.

Son, I doubt he will prove a crafty knave, and cosen us of our money.

We'll go to Master Justice, and complain on him, and get him whipped out o' the country for a coneycatcher.

PETER PLOD-ALL.

Ay, or have his ears nailed to the pillory. Come, let's go.

[_Exeunt_ PLOD-ALL _and his son_.

_Enter_ CHURMS.

CHURMS.

Fellow Robin, what news? how goes the world?

ROBIN GOODFELLOW.

Faith, the world goes, I cannot tell how. How sped you with your wench?

CHURMS.

I would the wench were at the devil! A plague upon't, I never say my prayers; and that makes me have such ill-luck.

ROBIN GOODFELLOW.

I think the scholar be hunted with some demi-devil.

CHURMS.

Why, didst thou fray him?

ROBIN GOODFELLOW.

Fray him? a vengeance on't! all our shifting knavery's known; we are counted very vagrants. Zounds, I am afraid of every officer for whipping.

CHURMS.

We are horribly haunted: our behaviour is so beastly, that we are grown loathsome; our craft gets us nought but knocks.

ROBIN GOODFELLOW.

What course shall we take now?

CHURMS.

Faith, I cannot tell: let's e'en run our country; for here's no staying for us.

ROBIN GOODFELLOW.

Faith, agreed: let's go into some place where we are not known, and there set up the art of knavery with the second edition.

[_Exeunt_.

_Enter_ GRIPE _solus_.

GRIPE.

Every one tells me I look better than I was wont: my heart's lightened, and my spirits are revived. Why, methinks I am e'en young again. It joys my heart that this same peevish girl, my daughter, will be ruled at the last yet; but I shall never be able to make Master Churms amends for the great pains he hath taken.

_Enter_ NURSE.

NURSE.

Master, now out upon's. Well-a-day! we are all undone.

GRIPE.