A Select Collection of Old English Plays Volume Xi Part 35

BOLD. 'Sheart! will you marry me hereafter, then?

WID. No, you are too young, and I am much too old; Ay, and unworthy, and the world will say, We married not for love. Good morrow, servant. [_Exit_ WIDOW.

BOLD. Why so: these women are the errantest jugglers in the world: the wry-legged fellow is an a.s.s to 'em. Well, I must have this widow, what-e'er come on't. Faith, she has turned me out of her service very barely. Hark, what's here? music?

_Enter_ SUBTLE _with a paper, and his_ BOY _with a cloak_.

SUB. [_Reads._] "Rise, lady mistress, rise, The night hath tedious been; No sleep hath fallen into my eyes, Nor slumbers made me sin.

Is not she a saint, then say, Thought of whom keeps sin away?

"Rise, madam, rise and give me light, Whom darkness still will cover, And ignorance, darker than night, Till thou smile on thy lover.

All want day, till thy beauty rise, For the grey morn breaks from thine eyes!"[119]

Now sing it, sirrah. [_The song sung by the_ BOY.

SUB. 'Sfoot, who's this? young Master Bold! G.o.d save you; you are an early stirrer.

BOLD. You say true, Master Subtle, I have been early up, But, as G.o.d help me, I was never the near.[120]

SUB. Where have you been, sir?

BOLD. What's that to you, sir? at a woman's labour?

SUB. Very good: I ne'er took you for a man-midwife[121] before.

BOLD. The truth is, I have been up all night at dice, and lost my clothes. Good morrow, Master Subtle. Pray G.o.d the watch be broke up: I thank you for my music.

[_Exit._

SUB. 'Tis palpable, by this air: her husband being abroad, Bold has lain with her, and is now conveyed out of doors. Is this the Lady Perfect, with a pox? The truth is, her virtuous chast.i.ty began to make me make a miracle of her still holding out to me, notwithstanding her husband's most barbarous usage of her; but now, indeed, 'tis no marvel, since another possesses her.

Well, madam, I will go find out your cuckold; I'll be reveng'd on you, and tell a tale Shall tickle him. This is a cheat in love Not to be borne: another to beguile Me of the game I play'd for all this while. [_Exit._

SCENE II.

_Enter_ WELLTRIED, _and_ BOLD _putting on his doublet;_ FEESIMPLE _asleep on a bed, as in_ BOLD'S _chamber_.

WELL. You see, we made bold with your lodging: indeed, I did a.s.sure myself you were fast for this night.

BOLD. But how the devil came this fool in your company?

WELL. 'Sfoot, man, I carried him last night among the roarers to flesh him; and, by this light, he got drunk, and beat 'em all.

BOLD. Why, then he can endure the sight of a drawn sword now?

WELL. O G.o.d, sir, I think in my conscience he will eat steel shortly. I know not how his conversion will hold after this sleep; but, in an hour or two last night, he was grown such a little d.a.m.n-me, that I protest I was afraid of the spirit that I myself had raised in him. But this other matter--of your expulsion thus, mads me to the heart. Were you in bed with her?

BOLD. In bed, by heaven.

WELL. I'll be hanged, if you were not busy too soon: you should have let her slept first.

BOLD. Zounds! man, she put her hand to my b.r.e.a.s.t.s, and swore I was no maid: now I, being eager to prove her words true, took that hint, and would violently have thrust her hand lower, when her thought, being swifter than my strength, made her no sooner imagine that she was betrayed, but she leaps out of the bed, whips me down a sword that hung by, and, as if fort.i.tude and justice had met to a.s.sist her, spite of all argument, fair or foul, she forced me away.

WELL. But is it possible thou shouldst have no more wit? wouldst thou come away upon any terms but sure ones, having night, her chamber, and herself naked in thine arms? By that light, if I had a son of fourteen, whom I had helped thus far, that had served me so, I would breech him.[122]

BOLD. 'Sheart! what would you have me done?

WELL. Have done? done? done twice at least.

BOLD. Have played Tarquin, and ravished her?

WELL. Pish! Tarquin was a blockhead: if he had had any wit and could have spoke, Lucrece had never been ravished; she would have yielded, I warrant thee, and so will any woman.

BOLD. I was such an erroneous heretic to love and women as thou art, till now.

WELL. G.o.d's precious! it makes me mad when I think on't. Was there ever such an absurd trick! now will she abuse thee horribly, say thou art a faint-hearted fellow, a milksop, and I know not what, as indeed thou art.

BOLD. Zounds! would you had been in my place.

WELL. Zounds! I would I had, I would have so jumbled her honesty.

Wouldst thou be held out at stave's end with words? dost thou not know a widow's a weak vessel, and is easily cast, if you close.

BOLD. Welltried, you deal unfriendly.

WELL. By this light, I shall blush to be seen in thy company.

BOLD. Pray, leave my chamber.

WELL. Pox upon your chamber!

I care not for your chamber nor yourself, More than you care for me.

BOTS. 'Sblood! I as little for you.

WELL. Why, fare you well.

BOTS. Why, fare well. Yet, Welltried,[123] I prythee, stay: Thou know'st I love thee.

WELL. 'Sheart! I love you as well; But for my spleen or choler, I think I have As much as you.

BOTS. Well, friend, This is the business you must do for me.

Repair unto the widow, where give out, To-morrow morn I shall be married: Invite her to the wedding. I have a trick To put upon this lord, too, whom I made My instrument to prefer me.

WELL. What shall follow I will not ask, because I mean[124] to see't.

The jars 'twixt friends still keeps their friendship sweet.

[_Exit._

FEE. [_waking_.] Why, Welltried, you rogue! what's that? a vision?

BOLD. Why, how now, my lord? whom do you call rogue? The gentleman you name is my friend. If you were wise, I should be angry.