A Select Collection of Old English Plays Volume Xi Part 67

SIR LIONEL. Nay, never do you laugh, for you're i' th' same block.

BUB. Is this the Italian fashion?

SCAT. No, it is the fool's fashion: And we two are the first that follow it.

BUB. _Et tu quoque_. Are we both cosened? Then let's show ourselves brothers in adversity, and embrace.

SIR LIONEL. What was he that cheated you?

BUB. Marry, sir, he was a knave that cheated me.

SCAT. And I think he was no honest man that cheated me.

SIR LIONEL. Do you know him again if you see him?

_Enter_ STAINES [_in his own costume._]

BUB. Yes, I know him again, if I see him; but I do not know how I should come to see him. O Gervase, Gervase! Do you see us two, Gervase?

STAINES. Yes, sir, very well.

BUB. No, you do not see us very well, for we have been horribly abused.

Never were Englishmen so gulled in Italian as we have been.

STAINES. Why, sir, you have not lost your cloak and hat?

BUB. Gervase, you lie; I have lost my cloak and hat; and therefore you must use your credit for another.

SCAT. I think my old cloak and hat must be glad to serve me till next quarter-day.

SIR LIONEL. Come, take no care for cloaks: I'll furnish you.

To-night you lodge with me; to-morrow morn, Before the sun be up, prepare for church; The widow and I have so concluded on't.

The wenches understand not yet so much, Nor shall not until bedtime: then will they Not sleep a wink all night for very joy.

SCAT. And I'll promise the next night they shall not sleep for joy neither. [_Aside._]

SIR LIONEL. O Master Geraldine, I saw you not before: Your father now is come to town, I hear.

GERA. Yes, sir.

SIR LIONEL. Were not my business earnest, I would see him: But pray entreat him break an hour's sleep To-morrow morn t'accompany me to church; And come yourself, I pray, along with him.

_Enter_ SPENDALL.

GERA. Sir, I thank you.

SIR LIONEL. But look, here comes one, That has but lately shook off his shackles.-- How now, sirrah! wherefore come you?

SPEND. I come to crave a pardon, sir, of you; And with hearty and zealous thanks Unto this worthy lady, that hath given me More than I e'er could hope for--liberty.

WID. Be thankful unto heaven and your master: Nor let your heart grow bigger than your purse, But live within a limit, lest you burst out To riot and to misery again: For then 'twould lose the benefit I mean it.

SIR LIONEL. O, you do graciously; 'tis good advice: Let it take root, sirrah, let it take root.

But come, widow, come and see your chamber: Nay, your company too, for I must speak with you. [_Exeunt._

SPEND. 'Tis bound unto you, sir.

BUB. And I have to talk with you too, Mistress Joyce. Pray, a word.

JOYCE. What would you, sir?

BUB. Pray, let me see your hand. The line of your maidenhead is out. Now for your fingers. Upon which finger will you wear your wedding-ring?

JOYCE. Upon no finger.

BUB. Then I perceive you mean to wear it on your thumb.

Well, the time is come, sweet Joyce; the time is come.

JOYCE. What to do, sir?

BUB. For me to tickle thy _Tu quoque;_ to do the act Of our forefathers: therefore prepare, provide, To-morrow morn to meet me as my bride. [_Exit._

JOYCE. I'll meet thee like a ghost first.

GERT. How now, what matter have you fished out of that fool?

JOYCE. Matter as poisoning as corruption, That will without some antidote strike home, Like blue infection, to the very heart.

W. RASH. As how, for G.o.d's sake?

JOYCE. To-morrow is the appointed wedding-day.

GERT. The day of doom, it is?

GERA. 'Twould be a dismal day indeed to some of us.

JOYCE. Sir, I do know you love me; and the time Will not be dallied with: be what you seem, Or not the same; I am your wife, your mistress, Or your servant--indeed, what you will make me.

Let us no longer wrangle with our wits, Or dally with our fortunes; lead me hence, And carry me into a wilderness: I'll fast with you, rather than feast with him.

STAINES. What can be welcomer unto these arms?

Not my estate recover'd is more sweet, Nor strikes more joy in me than does your love.

W. RASH. Will you both kiss then upon the bargain?

Here's two couple on you, G.o.d give you joy; I wish well to you, And I see 'tis all the good that I can do you: And so to your shifts I leave you.

JOYCE. Nay, brother, you will not leave us thus, I hope.

W. RASH. Why, what would you have me do? you mean to run away together: would you have me run with you, and so lose my inheritance? no, trudge, trudge with your backs to me, and your bellies to them. Away!