A Select Collection of Old English Plays Volume Viii Part 82

MOR. Honorea, for thee; And this it is. Howe'er unworthily I have bestowed my love so long upon thee, That wilt so manifestly contradict me, Yet, that thou may'st perceive how I esteem thee, I make thyself the guardian of thy love, That thine own fancy may make choice for thee.

I have persuaded with my Lord of Kent To leave to love thee: now the peevish doctor Swears that his int'rest he will ne'er resign; Therefore we must by policy deceive him.

He shall suppose he lieth this night with thee, But Mariana shall supply thy room; And thou with Musgrave in another chamber Shall secretly be lodg'd. When this is done, 'Twill be too late to call that back again: So shalt thou have thy mind, and he a wife.

HON. But wilt thou, Mariana, yield to this?

MAR. For your sake, lady, I will undertake it.

HON. Gramercy, Marian, and my n.o.ble father; Now I acknowledge that indeed you love me.

MOR. Well, no more words, but be you both prepar'd: The night draweth on, and I have sent in secret For Musgrave, that he may be brought unseen, To hide suspicion from their jealous eyes.

HON. I warrant you. Come, Marian, let us go.

[_Exeunt_ HONOREA _and_ MARIAN.

MOR. And then my Lord of Kent shall be my son.

Should I go wed my daughter to a boy?

No, no; young girls must have their will restrain'd; For if the rule be theirs, all runs to nought.

[_Exit_.

_Enter_ CLACK _the Miller, with_ JOAN.

CLACK. Be not Jug, as a man would say, finer than fivepence, or more proud than a peac.o.c.k; that is, to seem to scorn to call in at Clack's mill as you pa.s.s over the bridge. There be as good wenches as you be glad to pay me toll.

JOAN. Like enough, Clack; I had as live[446] they as I, and a great deal rather too. You, that take toll of so many maids, shall never toll me after you. O G.o.d! what a dangerous thing it is but to peep once into love! I was never so haunted with my harvest-work as I am with love's pa.s.sions.

CLACK. Ay, but Joan, bear old proverbs in your memory; soft and fair; now, sir, if you make too much haste to fall foul, ay, and that upon a foul one too, there fades the flower of all Croydon. Tell me but this: is not Clack the miller as good a name as Grim the collier?

JOAN. Alas! I know no difference in names To make a maid or choose or to refuse.

CLACK. You were best to say, no, nor in men neither. Well, I'll be sworn I have; but I have no reason to tell you so much, that care so little for me [_aside_]: yet hark.

[CLACK _speaketh in her ear_.

_Enter_ GRIM _and_ PARSON SHORTHOSE.

GRIM. O Master Parson, there he stands like a scarecrow, to drive me away from her that sticks as close to my heart as my s.h.i.+rt to my back, or my hose to my heel. O Master Parson Shorthose, Grim is but a man as another man is: colliers have but lives, as other men have. All is gone if she go from me: Grim is n.o.body without her. My heart is in my mouth; my mouth is in my hand; my hand threatens vengeance against the miller, as it were a beadle with a whip in his hand, triumphing o'er a beggar's back!

SHO. Be silent, Grim; stand close, and see; So shall we know how all things be.

GRIM. In wisdom I am appeased; but in anger I broil, as it were a rasher upon the coals.

JOAN. I'll not despise the trades ye either have; Yet Grim the collier may, if he be wise, Live even as merry as the day is long; For, in my judgment, in his mean estate Consists as much content as in more wealth.

GRIM. O Master Parson, write down this sweet saying of her in Grim's commendations. She hath made my heart leap like a hobby-horse! O Joan, this speech of thine will I carry with me even to my grave.

SHO. Be silent, then.

CLACK. Well, then, I perceive you mean to lead your life in a coalpit, like one of the devil's drudges, and have your face look like the outward side of an old iron pot or a blacking-box.

GRIM. He calleth my trade into question, I cannot forbear him.

SHO. Nay, then you spoil all: neighbour Grim, I warrant you, she will answer him.

JOAN. What I intend, I am not bound to show To thee, nor any other but my mother, To whom in duty I submit myself: Yet this I tell thee, though my birth be mean, My honest virtuous life shall help to mend it; And if I marry any in all this life, He shall say boldly he hath an honest wife.

GRIM. O, that it were my fortune to light upon her, on condition my horses were dead, and my cart broken, and I bound to carry coals, as long as I live, from Croydon to London on my bare shoulders! Master Parson, the flesh is frail, he shall tempt her no longer. She is but weak, and he is the stronger. I'll upon him. Miller, thou art my neighbour, and therein charity holds my hands; but methinks you, having a water-gap of your own, you may do as other millers do, grind your grist at home, knock your cogs into your own mill; you shall not cog with her.

She doth descry thee; And I defy thee To a mortal fight; And so, miller, good night.

And now, sweet Joan, Be it openly known Thou art my own.

CLACK. Well, Grim, since thou art so collier-like choleric--

GRIM. Miller, I will not be mealy-mouth'd.

CLACK. I'll give thee the fewer words now, because the next time we meet, I'll pay thee all in dry blows. Carry coals[447] at a collier's hands! if I do, let my mill be drowned up in water, and I hanged in the roof.

JOAN. And if thou lov'st me, Grim, forbear him now.

GRIM. If I love thee! dost thou doubt of that? nay, rip me up, and look into my heart, and thou shalt see thy own face pictured there as plainly as in the proudest looking-gla.s.s in all Croydon. If I love thee! then, tears, gush out, and show my love.

CLACK. What, Master Parson, are you there? You remember you promised to win Joan for my own wearing?

SHO. I warrant thee, Clack, but now begone; Leave me to work that here alone.

CLACK. Well, farewell, Master Shorthose; be true when you are trusted.

[_Exit_ CLACK.

SHO. She shall be neither his nor thine, For I intend to make her mine.

GRIM. If I love thee, Joan! Those very words are a purgation to me.

You shall see desperation in my face, and death marching in my very countenance. If I love!

SHO. What, Grim, hath grief drown'd thee at last?

Are all thy joys overcast?

Is Joan in place, and thou so sad!

Her presence, man, should make thee glad.

JOAN. Good Master Parson, 'twas no fault of mine; He takes occasion, where there none was given.

I will not blab unto the world, my love I owe to him, and shall do whilst I live. [_Aside_]

GRIM. Well, Joan, without all ifs or ands, e-persese, a-persese, or t.i.ttle-tattles in the world, I do love thee; and so much that, in thy absence I cry, when I see thee, and rejoice with my very heart, when I cannot behold thee.

SHO. No doubt, no doubt, thou lov'st her well, But listen now to what I tell: Since ye are both so well agreed, I wish you make more haste and speed.

To-morrow is Holy-rood day, When all a-nutting take their way; Within the wood a close doth stand, Encompa.s.s'd round on either hand With trees and bushes; there will I Despatch your marriage presently.

GRIM. O Master Parson, your devising pate hath blessed me for ever.

Joan, we'll have that so: the shorter the work the sweeter.

JOAN. And if my mother give but her consent, My absence shall in no case hinder it.