Mer. Woman, I take you to my love again; but you shall sing before you enter; therefore despatch your song and so come in. Mist. Mer. [within.] Well, you must have your will, when all's done. -Mick, what song canst thou sing, boy? Mich. [within.] I can sing none, forsooth, but 'A Lady's Daughter, of Paris properly,' [Sings within. It was a lady's daughter, &c. MERRYTHOUGHT opens the Door; enter Mistress Mer. Come, you're welcome home again. If such danger be in playing, And jest must to earnest turn, You shall go no more a-maying [Sings. Vent. [within.] Are you within, sir? Master Merrythought! Jasp. It is my master's voice: good sir, go hold him In talk, whilst we convey ourselves into Some inward room. [Exit with LUCE. Mer. What are you? are you merry? You must be very merry, if you enter. Mer. Sing, then. Vent. [within.] Nay, good sir, open to me. Mer. Sing, I say, Or, by the merry heart, you come not in ! Vent. [within.] Well, sir, I'll sing. Fortune, my foe, &c. [Sings. MERRYTHOUGHT opens the Door: Enter VENTUREWELL. : Mer. You are welcome, sir, you are welcome you see your entertainment; pray you, be merry. Vent. Oh, Master Merrythought, I'm come to ask you Forgiveness for the wrongs I offered you, And your most virtuous son! they're infinite; Yet my contrition shall be more than they : I do confess my hardness broke his heart, For which just Heaven hath given me punishment Crying, "I'll haunt thee for thy cruelty." My daughter, she is gone, I know not how, Or in the grave, 'tis yet uncertain to me. Oh, Master Merrythought, these are the weights Mer. Why, sir, I do forgive you; and be merry: Vent. With all my heart, sir. Mer. Speak it again, and heartily. Vent. I do, sir; Now, by my soul, I do. Re-enter LUCE and JASPER. Mer. [Sings.] With that came out his paramour; She was as white as the lily flower: Hey, troul, troly, loly ! With that came out her own dear knight; Sir, if you will forgive 'em, clap their hands together; there's no more to be said i' the matter. Vent. I do, I do. [Cit. I do not like this. Peace, boys! Hear me, one of you every body's part is come to an end but Ralph's, and he's left out. Boy. 'Tis 'long of yourself, sir; we have nothing to do with his part. Cit. Ralph, come away!-Make an end on him, as you have done of the rest, boys; come. Wife. Now, good husband, let him come out and die. Cit. He shall, Nell.--Ralph, come away quickly, and die, boy! Boy. 'Twill be very unfit he should die, sir, upon no occasion—and in a comedy too. Cit. Take you no care of that, sir boy; is not his part at an end, think you, when he's dead?-Come away, Ralph!] Enter RALPH, with a forked Arrow through his Head. Ralph. When I was mortal, this my costive corps Whose master wrought with lingel' and with awl, Then honour pricked me from my native soil Of Pompiona, his beloved daughter; But yet proved constant to the black thumbed maid And chosen city-captain at Mile-End, 1 Shoemaker's thread. With hat and feather, and with leading-staff, And trained my men, and brought them all off clear, Then coming home, and sitting in my shop. Could take the bottle down and fill a taste, [Cit. 'Tis a pretty fiction, i'faith.] Ralph. Then took I up my bow and shaft in hand, [Wife. Well said, Ralph! do your obeisance to the gentlemen, and go your ways: well said, Ralph !] 1 Befouled himself. 2 [RALPH rises, makes obeisance, and exit. Attacking houses of ill-fame was a favourite occupation of the London prentices on Shrove Tuesday. 3 This speech is a parody of the speech of Andrea's Ghost in The Spanish Tragedy:— "When this eternal substance of my soul Did live imprisoned in my wanton flesh," etc. Mer. Methinks all we, thus kindly and unexpectedly reconciled, should not depart without a song. Vent. A good motion. Mer. Strike up, then! 1 SONG. Better music ne'er was known Sing, though before the hour of dying; "Hey, ho, 'tis nought but mirth That keeps the body from the earth!" [Exeunt. you Cit. Come, Nell, shall we go? the play's done. Wife. Nay, by my faith, George, I have more manners than so; I'll speak to these gentlemen first.—I thank all, gentlemen, for your patience and countenance to Ralph, a poor fatherless child; and if I might see you at my house, it should go hard but I would have a bottle of wine and a pipe of tobacco for you: for, truly, I hope you do like the youth, but I would be glad to know the truth; I refer it to your own discretions, whether you will applaud him or no; for I will wink, and whilst you shall do what you will. I thank you with all my heart. God give you good night!—Come, George. [Exeunt. 1 i.e. Part. 11 21 1922 |