A Select Collection of Old English Plays Volume Viii Part 83

GRIM. She, quotha? she is mine already; we'll to her presently. Master Parson, 'tis a match; we'll meet you. Now, miller, do I go beyond you?

I have stripped him of the wench, as a cook would strip an eel out of her skin, or a pudding out of the case thereof. Now I talk of a pudding, O, 'tis my only food, I am an old dog at it. Come, Joan, let us away, I'll pudding you.

SHO. Well, if my fortune luckily ensue, As you shall cosen him, I'll cosen you.

[_Exeunt_.

_Enter_ CASTILIANO _at one door with_ MARIAN, EARL LACY _at another door with_ HONOREA.

CAS. Come, lovely Honorea, bright as day.

As came Alcmena from her sacred bed With Jupiter, shap'd like Amphitrion, So show my love.

HON. My love! whom have we here? Sweet Musgrave! but, alas, I am betrayed!

CAS. Thou art my love.

LACY. No, mine.

HON. Nor yours, nor yours; But Musgrave's love. O Musgrave! where art thou?

LACY. Be not displeas'd, my dear; give me thy hand.

HON. My hand, false earl! nor hand nor heart of mine!

Couldst thou thus cunningly deceive my hopes?

And could my father give consent thereto?

Well, neither he nor thou shalt force my love.

CAS. 'Tis I, fair Honorea, am thy love: Forsake the worthless earl, give me thy hand.

MAR. Whose hand would you have, sir? this hand is mine, And mine is yours: then keep you to your own: Yet are you mine, sir, and I mean to keep you.

What! do you think to shake me off so soon?

No, gentle husband, now 'tis too-too late; You should have look'd, before you came to bed.

_Enter_ ROBIN GOODFELLOW[448] _with his master's gown_.

ROB. Many good-morrows to my gentle master And my new mistress; G.o.d give you both joy!

What say you to your gown, sir, this cold morning?

CAS. Robin, I am undone, and cast away!

ROB. How, master, cast away upon a wife?

CAS. Yea, Robin, cast away upon a wife.

ROB. Cast her away then, master, can you not?

MAR. No, sir, he cannot, nor he shall not do it.

ROB. Why, how know you? I am sure you are not she.

MAR. Yes, sir, I am your mistress, as it falls.

ROB. As it falls, quoth ye? marry, a foul fall is it.

MAR. Base rascal, dost thou say that I am foul?

ROB. No, it was foul play for him to fall upon you.

MAR. How know you that he fell? were you so nigh?

[_She giveth_ ROBIN _a box on the ear_.

ROB. Ma.s.s, it should seem it was he that fell, if any, For you (methinks) are of a mounting nature: What, at my ears at first? a good beginning.

LACY. My dear delight, why dost thou stain thy cheeks, Those rosy beds, with this unseemly dew?

Shake off those tears, that now untimely fall, And smile on me, that am thy summer's joy.

HON. Hapless am I to lose so sweet a prison, Thus to obtain a weary liberty.

Happy had I been so to have remain'd, Of which estate I ne'er should have complain'd.

ROB. Whoop, whoo! more marriages! and all of a sort. Happy are they, I see, that live without them: if this be the beginning, what will be the ending?

_Enter_ EARL MORGAN _and_ DUNSTAN.

MOR. Look, Dunstan, where they be; displeas'd, no doubt, Try, if thou canst work reconciliation.

CAS. My lord, I challenge you of breach of promise, And claim your daughter here to be my wife.

LACY. Your claim is nought, sir; she is mine already.

HON. Your claim is nought, sir; I am none of yours.

MAR. Your claim is here, sir; Marian is yours.

What, husband, newly married and inconstant!

'Greed we so well together all this night, And must we now fall out? for shame, for shame!

A man of your years, and be so unstay'd!

Come, come away, there may no other be; I will have you, therefore you shall have me.

ROB. This is the bravest country in the world, Where men get wives, whether they will or no: I trow ere long some wench will challenge me.

CAS. O, is not this a goodly consequence?

I must have her, because she will have me!

DUN. Ladies and gentlemen, hear Dunstan speak.

Marriage, no doubt, is ordain'd by providence; Is sacred, not to be by vain affect Turn'd to the idle humours of men's brains.

Besides, for you, my lady Honorea, Your duty binds you to obey your father, Who better knows what fits you than yourself; And 'twere in you great folly to neglect The earl's great love, whereof you are unworthy, Should you but seem offended with the match.

Therefore submit yourself to make amends, For 'tis your fault; so may you all be friends.

MOR. And, daughter, you must think what I have done Was for your good, to wed you to the earl, Who will maintain and love you royally: For what had Musgrave but his idle shape?