_You are no love for me_ Marget, _I am no love for you._
_Come aloft Boys, aloft._
_Mist. mer._ Now a Churles fart in your teeth Sir: Come _Mick_,
we'll not trouble him, a shall not ding us i'th' teeth with his
bread and his broth, that he shall not: come boy, I'll provide
for thee, I warrant thee: wee'll go to Master _Venterwels_
the Merchant, I'll get his letter to mine Host of the _Bell_
in _Waltham_, there I'll place thee with the Tapster, will
not that do well for thee _Mick_? and let me alone for that
old Cuckoldly Knave your father, I'll use him in his kind, I
warrant ye.
_Wife._ Come _George_, where's the beer?
_Cit._ Here Love.
_Wife._ This old fornicating fellow will not out of my mind
yet; Gentlemen, I'll begin to you all, I desire more of your
acquaintance, with all my heart. Fill the Gentlemen some beer
_George_.
_Finis Actus Tertii. Musick._
_Actus Quartus. Scæna Prima._
_Boy danceth._
_Wife._ Look _George_, the little boy's come again, methinks
he looks something like the Prince of _Orange_ in his long
stocking, if he had a little harness about his neck. _George_,
I will have him dance _Fading_; _Fading_, is a fine Jig I'll
assure you Gentlemen: begin brother, now a capers sweet heart,
now a turn a th' toe, and then tumble: cannot you tumble youth?
_Boy._ No indeed forsooth.
_Wife._ Nor eat fire?
_Boy._ Neither.
_Wife._ Why then I thank you heartily, there's two pence to buy
you points withall.
_Enter_ Jasper _and_ Boy.
_Jasp._ There boy, deliver this: but do it well. Hast thou
provided me four lusty fellows?
Able to carry me? and art thou perfect
In all thy business?
_Boy._ Sir you need not fear,
I have my lesson here, and cannot miss it:
The men are ready for you, and what else
Pertains to this imployment.
_Jasp._ There my boy,
Take it, but buy no land.
_Boy._ Faith sir 'twere rare
To see so young a purchaser: I flie,
And on my wings carry your destiny. [_Exit._
_Jasp._ Go, and be happy: Now my latest hope
Forsake me not, but fling thy Anchor out,
And let it hold: stand fix[t] thou rolling stone,
Till I enjoy my dearest: hear me all
You powers that rule in men celestial. [_Exit._
_Wife._ Go thy ways, thou art as crooked a sprig as ever grew,
in _London_, I warrant him he'll come to some naughty end or
other: for his looks say no less: Besides, his father (you know
_George_) is none of the best, you heard him take me up like a
Gill flirt: and sing bawdy Songs upon me: but i'faith if I live
_George_--
_Cit._ Let me alone sweet-heart, I have a trick in my head
shall lodge him in the Arches for one year, and make him sing
_Peccavi_, 'ere I leave him, and yet he shall never know who
hurt him neither.
_Wife._ Do my good _Ge[o]rge_, do.
_Cit._ What shall we have _Rafe_ do now boy?
_Boy._ You shall have what you will sir.
_Cit._ Why so sir, go and fetch me him then, and let the Sophy
of _Persia_ come and christen him a child.
_Boy._ Believe me Sir, that will not do so well, 'tis stale, it
has been had before at the Red Bull.
_Wife. George_, let _Rafe_ travell over great hills, and
let him be [very] weary, and come to the King of _Cracovia_'s
house, covered with velvet, and there let the Kings daughter
stand in her window all in beaten gold, combing her golden
locks with a comb of Ivory, and let her spye _Rafe_, and fall
in love with him, and come down to him, and carry him into her
fathers house, and then let _Rafe_ talk with her.
_Cit._ Well said _Nel_, it shall be so: boy let's ha't done
quickly.
_Boy._ Sir, if you will imagine all this to be done already,
you shall hear them talk together: but we cannot present a
house covered with black Velvet, and a Lady in beaten gold.
_Cit._ Sir Boy, lets ha't as you can then.
_Boy._ Besides, it will shew ill-favoredly to have a Grocers
Prentice to court a Kings daughter.
_Cit._ Will it so Sir? you are well read in Histories: I pray
you what was Sir _Dagonet_? was not he Prentice to a Grocer
in _London_? read the Play of the _Four Prentices of London_,
where they toss their Pikes so: I pray you fetch him in Sir,
fetch him in.
_Boy._ It shall be done, it is not our fault Gentlemen. [_Exit._
_Wife._ Now we shall see fine doings I warrant thee _George_. O
here they come; how prettily the King of _Cracovia_'s daughter
is drest.
_Enter_ Rafe _and the Lady, Squire and Dwarf_.
_Cit._ I _Nell_, it is the fashion of that Countrey, I warrant
thee.
_Lady._ Welcome sir Knight unto my fathers Court.
King of _Moldavia_, unto me _Pompiona_
His daughter dear: but sure you do not like
Your entertainment, that will stay with us
No longer but a night.
_Raph._ Damsell right fair,
I [a]m on many sad adventures bound,
That call me forth into the Wilderness:
Besides, my horses back is something gal'd,
Which will enforce me ride a sober pace.
But many thanks (fair Lady) be to you,
For using errant Knight with courtesie.
_Lady._ But say (brave Knight) what is your name and birth?
_Rafe._ My name is _Rafe_, I am an Englishman,
As true as steel, a hearty Englishman,
And Prentice to a Grocer in the _Strand_,
By deed indent, of which I have one part:
But fortune calling me to follow Arms,
On me this holy Order I did take,
Of _burning Pestle_, which in all mens eyes,
I bear, confounding Ladies enemies.
_Lady._ Oft have I heard of your brave Countrymen,
And fertile soil, and store of wholesome food;
My father oft will tell me of a drink
In _England_ found, and _Nipitato_ call'd,
Which driveth all the sorrow from your hearts.
_Rafe._ Lady 'tis true, you need not lay your lips
To better _Nipitato_ than there is.
_Lady._ And of a wild-fowl he will often speak,
Which poudred beef and mustard called is:
For there have been great Wars 'twixt us and you,
But truely _Rafe_, it was not long of me.
Tell me then _Rafe_ could you contented be,
To wear a Ladies favor in your shield?
_Rafe._ I am a Knight of Religious Order,
And will not wear a favor of a Ladies
That trusts in Antichrist, and false traditions.
_Cit._ Well said _Rafe_, convert her if thou canst.
_Rafe._ Besides, I have a Lady of my own
In merry _England_; for whose virtuous sake
I took these Arms, and _Susan_ is her name,
A Coblers maid in Milkstreet, whom I vow
Nere to forsake, whilst life and Pestle last.
_Lady._ Happy that Cobling Dame, who ere she be
That for her own (dear _Rafe_) hath gotten thee.
Unhappy I, that nere shall see the day
To see thee more, that bear'st my heart away.
_Rafe._ Lady farewell, I must needs take my leave.
_Lady._ Hard-hearted _Rafe_, that Ladies dost deceive.
_Cit._ Hark thee _Rafe_, there's money for thee; give something
in the King of _Cracovia_'s house, be not beholding to him.
_Rafe._ Lady before I go, I must remember
Your fathers Officers, who truth to tell,
Have been about me very diligent:
Hold up thy snowy hand thou princely maid,
There's twelvepence for your fathers Chamberlain.
And another shilling for his Cook,
For by my troth the Goose was rosted well.
And twelve pence for your fathers Horse-keeper,
For nointing my horse back, and for his butter
There is another shilling. [T]o the maid
That washt my boot-hose, there's an English groat,
And twopence to the boy that wip't my boots.
And last, fair Lady, there is for your self
Three pence to buy you pins at _Bumbo_ Fair.
_Lady._ Full many thanks, and I will keep them safe
Till all the heads be off, for thy sake _Rafe_.
_Rafe._ Advance my Squire and Dwarf, I cannot stay.
_Lady._ Thou kil'st my heart in parting thus away. [_Exeunt._
_Wife._ I commend _Rafe_, yet that he will not stoop to a
_Cracovian_, there's properer women in _London_ than any are
there I-wis. But here comes Master _Humphrey_, and his love
again, now _George_.
_Cit._ I Cunny, peace.
_Enter Merchant_, Humphrey, Luce, _and Boy_.
_Merc._ Go get you up, I will not be intreated.
And Gossip mine I'll keep you sure hereafter
From gadding out again, with boys and unthrifts,
Come they are womens tears, I know your fashion.
Go sirrah, lock her in, and keep the key, [_Exit Luce and Boy._
Safe as [you love] your life. Now my son _Humphrey_,
You may both rest assured of my love
In this, and reap your own desire.
_Hum._ I see this love you speak of, through your daughter.
Although the hole be little, and hereafter
Will yield the like in all I may or can,
Fitting a Christian, and a Gentleman.
_Merc._ I Do believe you (my good son) and thank you.
For 'twere an impudence to think you flattered.
_Hum._ It were indeed, but shall I tell you why,
I have been beaten twice about the lye.
_Merc._ Well son, no more of complement, my daughter
Is yours again; appoint the time and take her.
Wee'll have no stealing for it, I my self
And some few of our friends will see you married.
_Hum._ I would you would i'faith, for be it known
I ever was afraid to lye alone.
_Mer._ Some three days hence then.
_Hum._ Three days, let me see,
'Tis somewhat of the most, yet I agree,
Because I mean against the pointed day,
To visit all my friends in new array. [_Enter servant._
_Ser._ Sir, there's a Gentlewoman without would speak with your
Worship.
_Mer._ What is she?
_Ser._ Sir I askt her not.
_Mer._ Bid her come in.
_Enter Mistriss Merry-thought, and_ Michael.
_Mist. mer._ Peace be to your Worship, I come as a poor Suitor
to you Sir, in the behalf of this child.
_Mer._ Are you not wife to _Merri-thought_?
_Mist. mer._ Yes truly, would I had nere seen his eyes, he has
undone me and himself, and his children, and there he lives
at home and sings, and hoyts, and revels among his drunken
companions, but I warrant you, where to get a penny to put
bread in his mouth, he knows not: And therefore if it like your
Worship, I would intreat your Letter, to the honest Host of
the _Bell_ in _Waltham_, that I may place my child under the
protection of his _Tapster_, in some setled course of life.
_Mer._ I'm glad the heavens have heard my prayers: thy
Husband
When I was ripe in sorrows laught at me,
Thy son, like an unthankful wretch, I having
Redeem'd him from his fall, and made him mine,
To shew his love again, first stole my daughter:
Then wrong'd this Gentleman, and last of all,
Gave me that grief, had almost brought me down
Unto my grave, had not a stronger hand
Reliev'd my sorrows, go, and weep as I did,
And be unpittied, for here I profess
An everlasting hate to all thy name.
_Mist. mer._ Will you so Sir, how say you by that? come
_Micke_, let him keep his wind to cool his Pottage, we'll go to
thy Nurses, _Micke_, she knits silk stockings boy, and we'll
knit too boy, and be beholding to none of them all.
[_Exeunt Michael and Mother._
_Enter a Boy with a Letter._
_Boy._ Sir, I take it you are the Master of this house.
_Mer._ How then boy?
_Boy._ Then to your self Sir, comes this Letter.
_Mer._ From whom my pretty boy?
_Boy._ From him that was your servant, but no more
Shall that name ever be, for he is dead,
Grief of your purchas'd anger broke his heart,
I saw him dye, and from his hand receiv'd
This paper with a charge to bring it hither,
Read it, and satisfie your self in all.