_C. Custance._ What gaudyng[512] and foolyng is this afore my doore?
_M. Mery._ May not folks be honest, pray you, though they be pore?
_C. Custance._ As that thing may be true, so rich folks may be fooles,
_R. Royster._ Hir talke is as fine as she had learned in schooles.
_M. Mery._ Looke partly towarde hir, and drawe a little nere. E ii _b_
_C. Custance._ Get ye home idle folkes. 6
_M. Mery._ Why may not we be here?
Nay and ye will haze,[513] haze: otherwise I tell you plaine,
And ye will not haze, then give us our geare againe.
_C. Custance._ In deede I have of yours much gay things God save all.
_R. Royster._ Speake gently unto hir, and let hir take all. 10
_M. Mery._ Ye are to tender hearted: shall she make us dawes?
Nay dame, I will be plaine with you in my friends cause.
_R. Royster._ Let all this passe sweete heart and accept my
service.[514]
_C. Custance._ I will not be served with a foole in no wise,
When I choose an husbande I hope to take a man. 15
_M. Mery._ And where will ye finde one which can doe that he can?
Now thys man towarde you being so kinde,
You not to make him an answere somewhat to his minde.
_C. Custance._ I sent him a full answere by you dyd I not?
_M. Mery._ And I reported it. 20
_C. Custance._ Nay I must speake it againe.
_R. Royster._ No no, he tolde it all.
_M. Mery._ Was I not metely plaine?
_R. Royster._ Yes.
_M. Mery._ But I would not tell all, for faith if I had
With you dame Custance ere this houre it had been bad,
And not without cause: for this goodly personage,
Ment no lesse than to joyne with you in mariage. 25
_C. Custance._ Let him wast no more labour nor sute about me.
_M. Mery._ Ye know not where your preferment lieth I see,
He sending you such a token, ring and letter.
_C. Custance._ Mary here it is, ye never sawe a better.
_M. Mery._ Let us see your letter. 30
_C. Custance._ Holde, reade it if ye can.
And see what letter it is to winne a woman.
_M. Mery_ [_takes the letter and reads_]. To mine owne deare coney
birde, swete heart, and pigsny
Good Mistresse Custance present these by and by,
Of this superscription do ye blame the stile?
_C. Custance._ With the rest as good stuffe as ye redde a great
while. 35
_M. Mery._ Sweete mistresse where as I love you nothing at all,[515]
Regarding your substance and richesse chiefe of all,
For your personage, beautie, demeanour and wit,
I commende me unto you never a whit. E iii
Sorie to heare report of your good welfare. 40
For (as I heare say) suche your conditions are,
That ye be worthie favour of no living man,
To be abhorred of every honest man.
To be taken for a woman enclined to vice.
Nothing at all to Vertue gyving hir due price. 45
Wherfore concerning mariage, ye are thought
Suche a fine Paragon, as nere honest man bought.
And nowe by these presentes I do you advertise
That I am minded to marrie you in no wise.
For your goodes and substance, I coulde bee content 50
To take you as ye are. If ye mynde to bee my wyfe,
Ye shall be assured for the tyme of my lyfe,
I will keepe ye ryght well, from good rayment and fare,
Ye shall not be kepte but in sorowe and care.
Ye shall in no wyse lyve at your owne libertie, 55
Doe and say what ye lust, ye shall never please me,
But when ye are mery, I will be all sadde,
When ye are sory, I will be very gladde.
When ye seeke your heartes ease, I will be unkinde,
At no tyme, in me shall ye muche gentlenesse finde. 60
But all things contrary to your will and minde,
Shall be done: otherwise I wyll not be behinde
To speake. And as for all them that woulde do you wrong
I will so helpe and mainteyne, ye[516] shall not lyve long.
Nor any foolishe dolte, shall cumbre you but I.[517] 65
I, who ere say nay, wyll sticke by you tyll I die,
Thus good mistresse Custance, the lorde you save and kepe,
From me Roister Doister, whether I wake or slepe.
Who favoureth you no lesse, (ye may be bolde)
Than this letter purporteth, which ye have unfolde. 70
_C. Custance._ Howe by this letter of love? is it not fine?
_R. Royster._ By the armes of Caleys[518] it is none of myne.
_M. Mery._ Fie you are fowle to blame this is your owne hand. E iii _b_
_C. Custance._ Might not a woman be proude of such an husbande?
_M. Mery._ Ah that ye would in a letter shew such despite. 75
_R. Royster._ Oh I would I had hym here, the which did it endite.
_M. Mery._ Why ye made it your selfe ye tolde me by this light.
_R. Royster._ Yea I ment I wrote it myne owne selfe yesternight.
_C. Custance._ Ywis sir, I would not have sent you such a mocke.
_R. Royster._ Ye may so take it, but I ment it not so by cocke. 80
_M. Mery._ Who can blame this woman to fume and frette and
rage?
Tut, tut, your selfe nowe have marde your owne marriage.
Well, yet mistresse Custance, if ye can this remitte,
This gentleman other wise may your love requitte. 84
_C. Custance._ No God be with you both, and seeke[519] no more to me.
_Exeat._
_R. Royster._ Wough, she is gone for ever, I shall hir no more see.
_M. Mery._ What weepe? fye for shame, and blubber? for manhods sake,
Never lette your foe so muche pleasure of you take.
Rather play the mans parte, and doe love refraine.
If she despise you een despise ye hir againe. 90
_R. Royster._ By gosse[520] and for thy sake I defye hir in deede.
_M. Mery._ Yea and perchaunce that way ye shall much sooner speede,
For one madde propretie these women have in fey,
When ye will, they will not: Will not ye, then will they.
Ah foolishe woman, ah moste unluckie Custance, 95
Ah unfortunate woman, ah pievishe Custance,
Art thou to thine harmes so obstinately bent,
That thou canst not see where lieth thine high preferment?
Canst thou not lub[521] dis man, which coulde lub dee so well?
Art thou so much thine own foe[?] 100
_R. Royster._ Thou dost the truth tell.
_M. Mery._ Wel I lament.
_R. Royster._ So do I.
_M. Mery._ Wherfor?
_R. Royster._ For this thing
Bicause she is gone.
_M. Mery._ I mourne for an other thing.
_R. Royster._ What is it Merygreeke, wherfore thou dost griefe take?
_M. Mery._ That I am not a woman myselfe for your sake,
I would have you my selfe, and a strawe for yond Gill, 105
And mocke[522] much of you though it were against my will.
I would not I warrant you, fall in such a rage, E iv
As so to refuse suche a goodly personage.
_R. Royster._ In faith I heartily thanke thee Merygreeke.
_M. Mery._ And I were a woman. 110
_R. Royster._ Thou wouldest to me seeke.
_M. Mery._ For though I say it, a goodly person ye bee.
_R. Royster._ No, no.
_M. Mery._ Yes a goodly man as ere I dyd see.
_R. Royster._ No, I am a poore homely man as God made mee.
_M. Mery._ By the faith that I owe to God sir, but ye bee.
Woulde I might for your sake, spend a thousande pound land. 115
_R. Royster._ I dare say thou wouldest have me to thy husbande.
_M. Mery._ Yea: And I were the fairest lady in the shiere,
And knewe you as I know you, and see you nowe here.
Well I say no more.
_R. Royster._ Grammercies with all my hart.
_M. Mery._ But since that can not be, will ye play a wise parte? 120
_R. Royster._ How should I?
_M. Mery._ Refraine[523] from Custance a while now.
And I warrant hir soone right glad to seeke to you,
Ye shall see hir anon come on hir knees creeping.
And pray you to be good to hir salte teares weeping.
_R. Royster._ But what and she come not? 125
_M. Mery._ In faith then farewel she.
Or else if ye be wroth, ye may avenged be.
_R. Royster._ By cocks precious potsticke, and een so I shall.
I wyll utterly destroy hir, and house and all,
But I woulde be avenged in the meane space,
On that vile scribler, that did my wowyng disgrace. 130
_M. Mery._ Scribler (ko you) in deede he is worthy no lesse.
I will call hym to you, and ye bidde me doubtlesse.
_R. Royster._ Yes, for although he had as many lives,
As a thousande widowes, and a thousande wives,
As a thousande lyons, and a thousand rattes, 135
A thousande wolves, and a thousande cattes,
A thousande bulles, and a thousande calves,
And a thousande legions divided in halves,
He shall never scape death on my swordes point,
Though I shoulde be torne therfore joynt by joynt. 140
_M. Mery._ Nay, if ye will kyll him, I will not fette him, E iv _b_
I will not in so muche extremitie sette him,
He may yet amende sir, and be an honest man,
Therefore pardon him good soule, as muche as ye can.
_R. Royster._ Well, for thy sake, this once with his lyfe he shall
passe, 145
But I wyll hewe hym all to pieces by the Masse.
_M. Mery._ Nay fayth ye shall promise that he shall no harme have,
Else I will not set him.
_R. Royster._ I shall so God me save.
But I may chide him a good.[524]
_M. Mery._ Yea that do hardely.
_R. Royster._ Go then. 150
_M. Mery._ I returne, and bring him to you by and by. _Ex._
Actus iii. Scæna v.