Roister Doister Part 9

+M. Mery.+ And the worst drudge in the house shal go better Than your mistresse doth now.

+Mar.+ Then I trudge with your letter.

+R. Royster.+ Now may I repose me: Custance is mine owne.

Let vs sing and play homeward that it may be knowne.

+M. Mery.+ But are you sure, that your letter is well enough?

+R. Royster.+ I wrote it my selfe.

+M. Mery.+ Then sing we to dinner.

_Here they sing, and go out singing._

Actus. j. Scaena. v.

+Christian Custance. Margerie Mumblecrust.+

+C. Custance.+ Who tooke thee thys letter Margerie Mumblecrust?

+M. Mumbl.+ A l.u.s.tie gay bacheler tooke it me of trust, And if ye seeke to him he will lowe your doing.

+C. Custance.+ Yea, but where learned he that manner of wowing?

+M. Mumbl.+ If to sue to hym, you will any paines take, He will haue you to his wife (he sayth) for my sake.

+C. Custance.+ Some wise gentleman belike. I am bespoken: And I thought verily thys had bene some token From my dere spouse Gawin Goodluck, whom when him please G.o.d luckily sende home to both our heartes ease.

+M. Mumbl.+ A ioyly man it is I wote well by report, And would haue you to him for marriage resort: Best open the writing, and see what it doth speake.

+C. Custance.+ At thys time nourse I will neither reade ne breake.

+M. Mumbl.+ He promised to giue you a whole pecke of golde.

+C. Custance.+ Perchaunce lacke of a pynte when it shall be all tolde.

+M. Mumbl.+ I would take a gay riche husbande, and I were you.

+C. Custance.+ In good sooth Madge, een so would I, if I were thou.

But no more of this fond talke now, let vs go in, And see thou no more moue me folly to begin.

Nor bring mee no mo letters for no mans pleasure, But thou know from whom.

+M. Mumbl.+ I warrant ye shall be sure.

Actus. ij. Scaena. j.

+Dobinet Doughtie.+

+D. Dough.+ Where is the house I goe to, before or behinde?

I know not where nor when nor how I shal it finde.

If I had ten mens bodies and legs and strength, This trotting that I haue must needes lame me at length.

And nowe that my maister is new set on wowyng, I trust there shall none of vs finde lacke of doyng: Two paire of shoes a day will nowe be too litle To serue me, I must trotte to and fro so mickle.

Go beare me thys token, carrie me this letter, Nowe this is the best way, nowe that way is better.

Vp before day sirs, I charge you, an houre or twaine, Trudge, do me thys message, and bring worde quicke againe, If one misse but a minute, then his armes and woundes, I woulde not haue slacked for ten thousand poundes.

Nay see I befeeche you, if my most trustie page, Goe not nowe aboute to hinder my mariage, So feruent hotte wowyng, and so farre from wiuing, I trowe neuer was any creature liuyng, With euery woman is he in some loues pang, Then vp to our lute at midnight, tw.a.n.gledome tw.a.n.g, Then tw.a.n.g with our sonets, and tw.a.n.g with our dumps, And heyhough from our heart, as heauie as lead lumpess: Then to our recorder with toodleloodle p.o.o.pe As the howlet out of an yuie bushe should hoope.

Anon to our gitterne, thrumpledum, thrumpledum thrum, Thrumpledum, thrumpledum, thrumpledum, thrumpledum thrum.

Of Songs and Balades also he is a maker, And that can he as finely doe as Iacke Raker, Yea and _extempore_ will he dities compose, Foolishe _Marsias_ nere made the like I suppose, Yet must we sing them, as good stuffe I vndertake, As for such a pen man is well fittyng to make.

Ah for these long nights, heyhow, when will it be day?

I feare ere I come she will be wowed away.

Then when aunswere is made that it may not bee, O death why commest thou not? by and by (sayth he) But then, from his heart to put away sorowe, He is as farre in with some newe loue next morowe.

But in the meane season we trudge and we trot, From dayspring to midnyght, I sit not, nor rest not.

And now am I sent to dame Christian Custance: But I feare it will ende with a mocke for pastance.

I bring hir a ring, with a token in a cloute, And by all gesse, this same is hir house out of doute.

I knowe it nowe perfect, I am in my right way.

And loe yond the olde nourse that was wyth vs last day.

Actus. ij. Scaena. ij.

+Mage Mumblecrust. Dobinet Doughtie.+

+M. Mumbl.+ I was nere so shoke vp afore since I was borne, That our mistresse coulde not haue chid I wold haue sworne: And I pray G.o.d I die if I ment any harme, But for my life time this shall be to me a charme.

+D. Dough.+ G.o.d you saue and see nurse, and howe is it with you?

+M. Mumbl.+ Mary a great deale the worse it is for suche as thou.

+D. Dough.+ For me? Why so?

+M. Mumb.+ Why wer not thou one of them, say, That song and playde here with the gentleman last day?

+D. Dough.+ Yes, and he would know if you haue for him spoken.

And prayes you to deliuer this ring and token.

+M. Mumbl.+ Nowe by the token that G.o.d tokened brother, I will deliuer no token one nor other.

I haue once ben so shent for your maisters pleasure, As I will not be agayne for all hys treasure.

+D. Dough.+ He will thank you woman.

+M. Mumbl.+ I will none of his thanke. _Ex._

+D. Dough.+ I weene I am a prophete, this geare will proue blanke: But what should I home againe without answere go?

It were better go to _Rome_ on my head than so.

I will tary here this moneth, but some of the house Shall take it of me, and then I care not a louse.

But yonder commeth forth a wenche or a ladde, If he haue not one Lumbardes touche, my lucke is bad.