THE PROLOGUE |
|
| What creature is in health, either young or old, |
| But some mirth with modesty will be glad to use? |
| As we in this Interlude shall now unfold, |
| Wherein all scurrility we utterly refuse, |
| Avoiding such mirth wherein is abuse: |
| Knowing nothing more commendable for a man's recreation |
| Than Mirth which is used in an honest fashion: |
| For Mirth prolongeth life, and causeth health, |
| Mirth recreates our spirits and voideth pensiveness, |
10 | Mirth increaseth amity, not hindering our wealth, |
| Mirth is to be used both of more and less, |
| Being mixed with virtue in decent comeliness, |
| As we trust no good nature can gainsay the same: |
| Which mirth we intend to use, avoiding all blame. |
| The wise Poets long time heretofore, |
| Under merry Comedies secrets did declare, |
| Wherein was contained very virtuous lore, |
| With mysteries and forewarnings very rare. |
| Such to write neither Plautus nor Terence did spare, |
20 | Which among the learned at this day bears the bell: |
| These with such other therein did excel. |
| Our Comedy or Interlude which we intend to play |
| Is named Roister Doister indeed. |
| Which against the vain-glorious doth inveigh, |
| Whose humour the roisting sort continually doth feed. |
| Thus by your patience we intend to proceed |
| In this our Interlude by God's leave and grace, |
| And here I take my leave for a certain space. |
| |
FINIS |
| |
| |
ACT I |
SCENE I |
Mathew Merygreeke. He entereth singing. |
| |
| As long liveth the merry man (they say) |
| As doth the sorry man, and longer by a day. |
| Yet the grasshopper, for all his summer piping, |
| Starveth in winter with hungry griping, |
| Therefore another said saw doth men advise, |
| That they be together both merry and wise. |
| This lesson must I practise, or else ere long, |
| With me, Mathew Merygreeke, it will be wrong. |
| Indeed men so call me, for by him that us bought, |
10 | Whatever chance betide, I can take no thought, |
| Yet wisdom would that I did myself bethink |
| Where to be provided this day of meat and drink: |
| For know ye, that for all this merry note of mine, |
| He might appose me now that should ask where I dine. |
| My living lieth here and there, of God's grace, |
| Sometime with this good man, sometime in that place, |
| Sometime Lewis Loytrer biddeth me come near, |
| Somewhiles Watkin Waster maketh us good cheer, |
| Sometime Davy Diceplayer, when he hath well cast, |
20 | Keepeth revel rout as long as it will last, |
| Sometime Tom Titivile maketh us a feast, |
| Sometime with Sir Hugh Pye I am a bidden guest, |
| Sometime at Nicol Neverthrive's I get a sop, |
| Sometime I am feasted with Bryan Blinkinsoppe, |
| Sometime I hang on Hankyn Hoddydodie's sleeve, |
| But this day on Ralph Roister Doister's by his leave. |
| For truly of all men he is my chief banker |
| Both for meat and money, and my chief shoot-anchor. |
| For, sooth Roister Doister in that he doth say, |
30 | And require what ye will ye shall have no nay. |
| But now of Roister Doister somewhat to express, |
| That ye may esteem him after his worthiness, |
| In these twenty towns and seek them throughout, |
| Is not the like stock, whereon to graff a lout. |
| All the day long is he facing and craking |
| Of his great acts in fighting and fraymaking: |
| But when Roister Doister is put to his proof, |
| To keep the Queen's peace is more for his behoof. |
| If any woman smile or cast on him an eye, |
40 | Up is he to the hard ears in love by and by, |
| And in all the hot haste must she be his wife. |
| Else farewell his good days, and farewell his life, |
| Master Ralph Roister Doister is but dead and gone |
| Except she on him take some compassion, |
| Then chief of counsel must be Mathew Merygreeke, |
| "What if I for marriage to such an one seek?" |
| Then must I sooth it, what ever it is: |
| For what he sayeth or doeth cannot be amiss. |
| Hold up his yea and nay, be his nown white son, |
50 | Praise and rouse him well, and ye have his heart won, |
| For so well liketh he his own fond fashions |
| That he taketh pride of false commendations. |
| But such sport have I with him as I would not lese, |
| Though I should be bound to live with bread and cheese. |
| For exalt him, and have him as ye lust indeed: |
| Yea, to hold his finger in a hole for a need. |
| I can with a word make him fain or loth, |
| I can with as much make him pleased or wroth, |
| I can when I will make him merry and glad, |
60 | I can when me lust make him sorry and sad, |
| I can set him in hope and eke in despair, |
| I can make him speak rough and make him speak fair. |
| But I marvel I see him not all this same day, |
| I will seek him out: But lo! he cometh this way. |
| I have yond espied him sadly coming, |
| And in love for twenty pound, by his gloming. |
| |
SCENE II |
Ralph Roister Doister. Mathew Merygreeke. |
| R. Roister. Come death when thou wilt, I am weary of my life. |
| M. Mery. I told you, I, we should woo another wife. |
| R. Roister. Why did God make me such a goodly person? |
70 | M. Mery. He is in by the week, we shall have sport anon. |
| R. Roister. And where is my trusty friend, Mathew Merygreeke? |
| M. Mery. I will make as I saw him not, he doth me seek. |
| R. Roister. I have him espied me-thinketh, yond is he. |
| Ho! Mathew Merygreeke, my friend, a word with thee. |
| M. Mery. I will not hear him, but make as I had haste, |
| Farewell all my good friends, the time away doth waste. |
| And the tide, they say, tarrieth for no man. |
| R. Roister. Thou must with thy good counsel help me if thou can. |
| M. Mery. God keep thee, worshipful Master Roister Doister, |
80 | And fare well the lusty Master Roister Doister. |
| R. Roister. I must needs speak with thee a word or twain. |
| M. Mery. Within a month or two I will be here again. |
| Negligence in great affairs, ye know, may mar all. |
| R. Roister. Attend upon me now, and well reward thee I shall. |
| M. Mery. I have take my leave, and the tide is well spent. |
| R. Roister. I die except thou help, I pray thee be content. |
| Do thy part well now, and ask what thou wilt, |
| For without thy aid my matter is all spilt. |
| M. Mery. Then to serve your turn I will some pains take, |
90 | And let all mine own affairs alone for your sake. |
| R. Roister. My whole hope and trust resteth only in thee. |
| M. Mery. Then can ye not do amiss, whatever it be. |
| R. Roister. Gramercies, Merygreeke, most bound to thee I am. |
| M. Mery. But up with that heart, and speak out like a ram. |
| Ye speak like a capon that had the cough now: |
| Be of good cheer, anon ye shall do well enow. |
| R. Roister. Upon thy comfort, I will all things well handle. |
| M. Mery. So, lo! that is a breast to blow out a candle. |
| But what is this great matter, I would fain know? |
100 | We shall find remedy therefore I trow. |
| Do ye lack money ? ye know mine old offers, |
| Ye have always a key to my purse and coffers. |
| R. Roister. I thank thee: had ever man such a friend? |
| M. Mery. Ye give unto me: I must needs to you lend. |
| R. Roister. Nay, I have money plenty all things to discharge. |
| M. Mery. That knew I right well when I made offer so large. |
| R. Roister. But it is no such matter. |
| M. Mery. What is it then? |
| Are ye in danger of debt to any man? |
| If ye be, take no thought nor be not afraid. |
110 | Let them hardly take thought how they shall be paid. |
| R. Roister. Tut, I owe nought. |
| M. Mery. What then? fear ye imprisonment? |
| R. Roister. No. |
| M. Mery. No, I wist ye offend not, so to be shent. |
| But if ye had, the Tower could not you so hold, |
| But to break out at all times ye would be bold. |
| What is it? hath any man threatened you to beat? |
| R. Roister. What is he that durst have put me in that heat? |
| He that beateth me by his arms shall well find, |
| That I will not be far from him nor run behind. |
| M. Mery. That thing know all men ever since ye overthrew |
120 | The fellow of the lion which Hercules slew. |
| But what is it then? |
| R. Roister. Of love I make my moan. |
| M. Mery. Ah, this foolish love, wilt ne'er let us alone? |
| But because ye were refused the last day, |
| Ye said ye would ne'er more be entangled that way. |
| I would meddle no more, since I find all so unkind. |
| R. Roister. Yea, but I cannot so put love out of my mind. |
| M. Mery. But is your love, tell me first, in any wise, |
| In the way of marriage, or of merchandise? |
| If it may otherwise than lawful be found, |
130 | Ye get none of my help for a hundred pound. |
| R. Roister. No, by my troth, I would have her to my wife. |
| M. Mery. Then are ye a good man, and God save your life! |
| And what or who is she, with whom ye are in love? |
| R. Roister. A woman whom I know not by what means to move. |
| M. Mery. Who is it? |
| R. Roister. A woman yond. |
| M. Mery. What is her name? |
| R. Roister. Her yonder. |
| M. Mery. Whom? |
| R. Roister. Mistress, ah. |
| M. Mery. Fie, fie, for shame! |
| Love ye, and know not whom? but her yond, a woman, |
| We shall then get you a wife, I cannot tell when. |
| R. Roister. The fair woman, that supped with us yesternight, |
140 | And I heard her name twice or thrice, and had it right. |
| M. Mery. Yea, ye may see ye ne'er take me to good cheer with you, |
| If ye had, I could have told you her name now. |
| R. Roister. I was to blame indeed, but the next time perchance: |
| And she dwelleth in this house. |
| M. Mery. What, Christian Custance? |
| R. Roister. Except I have her to my wife, I shall run mad. |
| M. Mery. Nay, unwise perhaps, but I warrant you for mad. |
| R. Roister. I am utterly dead unless I have my desire. |
| M. Mery. Where be the bellows that blew this sudden fire? |
| R. Roister. I hear she is worth a thousand pound and more. |
150 | M. Mery. Yea, but learn this one lesson of me afore: |
| An hundred pound of marriage-money, doubtless, |
| Is ever thirty pound sterling, or somewhat less, |
| So that her thousand pound, if she be thrifty, |
| Is much near about two hundred and fifty, |
| Howbeit wooers and widows are never poor. |
| R. Roister. Is she a widow? I love her better therefore. |
| M. Mery. But I hear she hath made promise to another. |
| R. Roister. He shall go without her, and he were my brother. |
| M. Mery. I have heard say, I am right well advised, |
160 | That she hath to Gawyn Goodluck promised. |
| R. Roister. What is that Gawyn Goodluck? |
| M. Mery. A merchant-man. |
| R. Roister. Shall he speed afore me? nay, sir, by sweet Saint Anne. |
| Ah, sir, Backare, quod Mortimer to his sow. |
| I will have her mine own self I make God a vow. |
| For I tell thee, she is worth a thousand pound. |
| M. Mery. Yet a fitter wife for your maship might be found: |
| Such a goodly man as you might get one with land, |
| Besides pounds of gold a thousand and a thousand, |
| And a thousand, and a thousand, and a thousand, |
170 | And so to the sum of twenty hundred thousand, |
| Your most goodly personage is worthy of no less. |
| R. Roister. I am sorry God made me so comely, doubtless. |
| For that maketh me each where so highly favoured, |
| And all women on me so enamoured. |
| M. Mery. Enamoured, quod you? have ye spied out that? |
| Ah, sir, marry, now, I see you know what is what. |
| Enamoured, ka? marry, sir, say that again, |
| But I thought not ye had marked it so plain. |
| R. Roister. Yes, each where they gaze all upon me and stare. |
| M. Mery. Yea, malkyn, I warrant you as much as they dare. |
181 | And ye will not believe what they say in the street, |
| When your maship passeth by, all such as I meet, |
| That sometimes I can scarce find what answer to make. |
| Who is this (saith one) Sir Launcelot du Lake? |
| Who is this, great Guy of Warwick, saith another? |
| No (say I) it is the thirteenth Hercules brother. |
| Who is this? noble Hector of Troy, saith the third? |
| No, but of the same nest (say I) it is a bird. |
| Who is this? great Goliah, Sampson, or Colbrand? |
190 | No (say I) but it is a Brute of the Alie land. |
| Who is this? great Alexander? or Charles le Maigne? |
| No, it is the tenth worthy, say I to them again: |
| I know not if I said well. |
| R. Roister. Yes, for so I am. |
| M. Mery. Yea, for there were but nine worthies before ye came. |
| To some others, the third Cato I do you call. |
| And so as well as I can I answer them all. |
| "Sir, I pray you, what lord or great gentleman is this?" |
| Master Ralph Roister Doister, dame (say I), ywis. |
| O Lord (saith she then) what a goodly man it is, |
200 | Would Christ I had such a husband as he is! |
| 0 Lord (say some) that the sight of his face we lack: |
| It is enough for you (say I) to see his back. |
| His face is for ladies of high and noble parages, |
| With whom he hardly 'scapeth great marriages. |
| With much more than this, and much otherwise. |
| R. Roister. I can thee thank that thou canst such answers devise: |
| But I perceive thou dost me throughly know. |
| M. Mery. I mark your manners for mine own learning, I trow. |
| But such is your beauty, and such are your acts, |
210 | Such is your personage, and such are your facts, |
| That all women fair and foul, more and less, |
| That eye you, they lub you, they talk of you doubtless. |
| Your p[l]easant look maketh them all merry, |
| Ye pass not by, but they laugh till they be weary, |
| Yea, and money could I have, the truth to tell, |
| Of many, to bring you that way where they dwell. |
| R. Roister. Merygreeke, for this thy reporting well of me - |
| M. Mery. What should I else, sir? it is my duty, pardee. |
| R. Roister. I promise thou shalt not lack, while I have a groat. |
| M. Mery. Faith, sir, and I ne'er had more need of a new coat. |
221 | R. Roister. Thou shalt have one tomorrow, and gold for to spend. |
| M. Mery. Then I trust to bring the day to a good end. |
| For as for mine own part having money enow, |
| I could live only with the remembrance of you. |
| But now to your widow whom you love so hot. |
| R. Roister. By Cock, thou sayest truth, I had almost forgot. |
| M. Mery. What if Christian Custance will not have you, what? |
| R. Roister. Have me? yes, I warrant you, never doubt of that, |
| I know she loveth me, but she dare not speak. |
230 | M. Mery. Indeed, meet it were some body should it break. |
| R. Roister. She looked on me twenty times yesternight, |
| And laughed so. |
| M. Mery. That she could not sit upright. |
| R. Roister. No, faith, could she not. |
| M. Mery. No, even such a thing I cast. |
| R. Roister. But for wooing, thou knowest, women are shamefast. |
| But and she knew my mind, I know she would be glad, |
| And think it the best chance that ever she had. |
| M. Mery. To her then like a man, and be bold forth to start, |
| Wooers never speed well, that have a false heart. |
| R. Roister. What may I best do ? |
| M. Mery. Sir, remain ye awhile here. |
240 | Ere long one or other of her house will appear. |
| Ye know my mind. |
| R. Roister. Yea, now hardly let me alone. |
| M. Mery. In the meantime, sir, if you please, I will home, |
| And call your musicians, for in this your case |
| It would set you forth, and all your wooing grace. |
| Ye may not lack your instruments to play and sing. |
| R. Roister. Thou knowest I can do that. |
| M. Mery. As well as anything. |
| Shall I go call your folks, that ye may show a cast? |
| R. Roister. Yea, run, I beseech thee, in all possible haste. |
| M. Mery. I go. [Exeat. |
| R. Roister. Yea, for I love singing out of measure, |
250 | It comforteth my spirits and doth me great pleasure. |
| But who cometh forth yond from my sweetheart Custance? |
| My matter frameth well, this is a lucky chance. |
| |
| |
SCENE III |
| |
Madge Mumblecrust, spinning on the distaff. Tibet Talkapace, sewing. Annot Alyface, knitting. R. Roister. |
| M. Mumble. If this distaff were spun, Margerie Mumblecrust - |
| Tib. Talk. Where good stale ale is will drink no water I trust. |
| M. Mumble. Dame Custance hath promised us good ale and white bread. |
| Tib. Talk. If she keep not promise, I will beshrew her head: |
| But it will be stark night before I shall have done. |
| R. Roister. I will stand here awhile, and talk with them anon. |
| I hear them speak of Custance, which doth my heart good. |
260 | To hear her name spoken doth even comfort my blood. |
| M. Mumble. Sit down to your work, Tibet, like a good girl. |
| Tib. Talk. Nurse, meddle you with your spindle and your whirl, |
| No haste but good, Madge Mumblecrust, for whip and whur, |
| The old proverb doth say, never made good fur. |
| M. Mumble. Well, ye will sit down to your work anon, I trust. |
| Tib. Talk. Soft fire maketh sweet malt, good Madge Mumblecrust. |
| M. Mumble. And sweet malt maketh jolly good ale for the nones. |
| Tib. Talk. Which will slide down the lane without any bones. |
| [Cantet. |
| Old brown bread crusts must have much good mumbling. |
| But good ale down your throat hath good easy tumbling. |
| R. Roister. The jolliest wench that ere I heard, little mouse, |
272 | May I not rejoice that she shall dwell in my house? |
| Tib. Talk. So, sirrah, now this gear beginneth for to frame. |
| M. Mumble. Thanks to God, though your work stand still, your tongue is not lame. |
| Tib. Talk. And though our teeth be gone, both so sharp and so fine, |
| Yet your tongue can renne on patins as well as mine. |
| M. Mumble. Ye were not for nought named Tib Talkapace. |
| Tib. Talk. Doth my talk grieve you? Alack, God save your grace. |
| M. Mumble. I hold a groat, ye will drink anon for this gear. |
280 | Tib. Talk. And I will pray you the stripes for me to bear. |
| M. Mumble. I hold a penny, ye will drink without a cup. |
| Tib. Talk. Wherein so e'er ye drink, I wot ye drink all up. |
| |
Enter Annot. |
| An. Alyface. By Cock, and well sewed, my good Tibet Talkapace. |
| Tib. Talk. And e'en as well knit, my nown Annot Alyface. |
| R. Roister. See what a sort she keepeth that must be my wife. |
| Shall not I, when I have her, lead a merry life? |
| Tib. Talk. Welcome, my good wench, and sit here by me just. |
| An. Alyface. And how doth our old beldame here, Madge Mumblecrust? |
| Tib. Talk. Chide, and find faults, and threaten to complain. |
| An. Alyface. To make us poor girls shent to her is small gain. |
291 | M. Mumble. I did neither chide, nor complain, nor threaten. |
| R. Roister. It would grieve my heart to see one of them beaten. |
| M. Mumble. I did nothing but bid her work and hold her peace. |
| Tib. Talk. So would I, if you could your clattering cease: |
| But the devil cannot make old trot hold her tongue. |
| An. Alyface. Let all these matters pass, and we three sing a song, |
| So shall we pleasantly both the time beguile now, |
| And eke dispatch all our works ere we can tell how. |
| Tib. Talk. I shrew them that say nay, and that shall not be I. |
| M. Mumble. And I am well content. |
300 | Tib. Talk. Sing on then, by and by. |
| R. Roister. And I will not away, but listen to their song, |
| Yet Merygreeke and my folks tarry very long. |
| |
Tib., An., and Margerie, do sing here. |
| Pipe merry Annot, etc. |
|
| Trilla, trilla, trillarie. |
| Work Tibet, work Annot, work Margerie. |
| Sew Tibet, knit Annot, spin Margerie. |
| Let us see who shall win the victory. |
| Tib. Talk. This sleeve is not willing to be sewed, I trow. |
| A small thing might make me all in the ground to throw. |
| |
Then they sing again. |
310 | Pipe merry Annot, etc. |
|
| Trilla, trilla, trillarie. |
| What Tibet, what Annot, what Margerie. |
| Ye sleep, but we do not, that shall we try. |
| Your ringers be numbed, our work will not lie. |
| Tib. Talk. If ye do so again, well I would advise you nay. |
| In good sooth one stop more, and I make holy day. |
| |
They sing the third time. |
| Pipe merry Annot, etc. |
|
| Trilla, trilla, trillarie. |
| Now Tibet, now Annot, now Margerie. |
320 | Now whippet apace for the maistry, |
| But it will not be, our mouth is so dry. |
| Tib. Talk. Ah, each finger is a thumb to-day methink, |
| I care not to let all alone, choose it swim or sink. |
| |
They sing the fourth time. |
| Pipe merry Annot, etc. |
|
| Trilla, trilla, trillarie. |
| When Tibet, when Annot, when Margerie. |
| I will not, I cannot, no more can I. |
| Then give we all over, and there let it lie. |
| [Let her cast down her work. |
| Tib. Talk. There it lieth, the worst is but a curried coat, |
330 | Tut, I am used thereto, I care not a groat. |
| An. Alyface. Have we done singing since? then will I in again, |
| Here I found you, and here I leave both twain. [Exeat. |
| M. Mumble. And I will not be long after. Tib Talkapace! |
| Tib. Talk. What is the matter? |
| M. Mumble. Yond stood a man all this space |
| And hath heard all that ever we spake together. |
| Tib. Talk. Marry, the more lout he for his coming hither. |
| And the less good he can to listen maidens talk. |
| I care not and I go bid him hence for to walk: |
| It were well done to know what he maketh here away. |
| R. Roister. Now might I speak to them, if I wist what to say. |
341 | M. Mumble. Nay, we will go both off, and see what he is. |
| R. Roister. One that hath heard all your talk and singing i-wis. |
| Tib. Talk. The more to blame you, a good thrifty husband |
| Would elsewhere have had some better matters in hand. |
| R. Roister. I did it for no harm, but for good love I bear |
| To your dame mistress Custance, I did your talk hear. |
| And, mistress nurse, I will kiss you for acquaintance. |
| M. Mumble. I come anon, sir. |
350 | Tib. Talk. Faith, I would our dame Custance |
| Saw this gear. |
| M. Mumble. I must first wipe all clean, yea, I must. |
| Tib. Talk. Ill 'chieve it, doting fool, but it must be cust. |
| M. Mumble. God yelde you, sir; chad not so much, i-chotte not when, |
| Ne'er since chwas bore chwine, of such a gay gentleman. |
| R. Roister. I will kiss you too, maiden, for the good will I bear you. |
| Tib. Talk. No, forsooth, by your leave, ye shall not kiss me. |
| R. Roister. Yes, be not afeard, I do not disdain you a whit. |
| Tib. Talk. Why should I fear you? I have not so little wit, |
| Ye are but a man I know very well. |
| R. Roister. Why then? |
360 | Tib. Talk. Forsooth for I will not, I use not to kiss men. |
| R. Roister. I would fain kiss you too, good maiden, if I might. |
| Tib. Talk. What should that need? |
| R. Roister. But to honour you by this light. |
| I use to kiss all them that I love, to God I vow. |
| Tib. Talk. Yea, sir? I pray you, when did ye last kiss your cow? |
| R. Roister. Ye might be proud to kiss me, if ye were wise. |
| Tib. Talk. What promotion were therein? |
| R. Roister. Nurse is not so nice. |
| Tib. Talk. Well, I have not been taught to kissing and licking. |
| R. Roister. Yet I thank you, mistress nurse, ye made no sticking. |
| M. Mumble. I will not stick for a kiss with such a man as you. |
370 | Tib. Talk. They that lust: I will again to my sewing now. |
Enter Annot. |
| An. Alyface. Tidings, ho! tidings! dame Custance greeteth you well. |
| R. Roister. Whom? me? |
| An. Alyface. You, sir? No, sir I I do no such tale tell. |
| R. Roister. But and she knew me here. |
| An. Alyface. Tibet Talkapace, |
| Your mistress Custance and mine, must speak with your grace. |
| Tib. Talk. With me? |
| An. Alyface. Ye must come in to her, out of all doubts. |
| Tib. Talk. And my work not half done? A mischief on all louts. [Ex. am. |
| R. Roister. Ah, good sweet nurse! |
| M. Mumble. A good sweet gentleman. |
| R. Roister. What? |
| M. Mumble. Nay, I cannot tell, sir, but what thing would you? |
| R. Roister. How doth sweet Custance, my heart of gold, tell me how? |
| M. Mumble. She doth very well, sir, and command me to you. |
| R. Roister. To me? |
| M. Mumble. Yea, to you, sir. |
381 | R. Roister. To me? Nurse, tell me plain, |
| To me? |
| M. Mumble. Ye. |
| R. Roister. That word maketh me alive again. |
| M. Mumble. She command me to one last day, whoe'er it was. |
| R. Roister. That was e'en to me and none other, by the Mass. |
| M. Mumble. I cannot tell you surely, but one it was. |
| R. Roister. It was I and none other: this cometh to good pass. |
| I promise thee, nurse, I favour her. |
| M. Mumble. E'en so, sir. |
| R. Roister. Bid her sue to me for marriage. |
| M. Mumble. E'en so, sir. |
| R. Roister. And surely for thy sake she shall speed. |
| M. Mumble. E'en so, sir. |
| R. Roister. I shall be contented to take her. |
390 | M. Mumble. E'en so, sir. |
| R. Roister. But at thy request and for thy sake. |
| M. Mumble. E'en so, sir. |
| R. Roister. And, come, hark in thine ear what to say. |
| M. Mumble. E'en so, sir. |
| [Here let him tell her a great long tale in her ear. |
| |
| |
SCENE IV |
Mathew Merygreeke. Dobinet Doughtie. Harpax. Ralph Roister. Margerie Mumblecrust. |
| |
| M. Mery. Come on, sirs, apace, and quit yourselves like men, |
| Your pains shall be rewarded. |
| D. Dough. But I wot not when. |
| M. Mery. Do your master worship as ye have done in time past. |
| D. Dough. Speak to them: of mine office he shall have a cast. |
| M. Mery. Harpax, look that thou do well too, and thy fellow. |
| Harpax. I warrant, if he will mine example follow. |
| M. Mery. Curtsy, whoresons, douk you and crouch at every word. |
400 | D. Dough. Yes, whether our master speak earnest or bord. |
| M. Mery. For this lieth upon his preferment indeed. |
| D. Dough. Oft is he a wooer, but never doth he speed. |
| M. Mery. But with whom is he now so sadly rounding yond? |
| D. Dough. With Nobs nicebecetur miserere fond. |
| M. Mery. God be at your wedding, be ye sped already? |
| I did not suppose that your love was so greedy. |
| I perceive now ye have chose of devotion, |
| And joy have ye, lady, of your promotion. |
| R. Roister. Tush, fool, thou art deceived, this is not she. |
| M. Mery. Well, mock much of her, and keep her well, I'vise ye. |
411 | I will take no charge of such a fair piece keeping. |
| M. Mumble. What aileth this fellow? he driveth me to weeping. |
| M. Mery. What, weep on the wedding day? Be merry, woman, |
| Though I say it, ye have chose a good gentleman. |
| R. Roister. Kocks nowns, what meanest thou, man? tut, a whistle. |
| M. Mery. Ah, sir, be good to her; she is but a gristle. |
| Ah, sweet lamb and coney! |
| R. Roister. Tut, thou art deceived. |
| M. Mery. Weep no more, lady, ye shall be well received. |
| Up with some merry noise, sirs, to bring home the bride. |
| R. Roister. Gogs arms, knave, art thou mad? |
420 | I tell thee thou art wide. |
| M. Mery. Then ye intend by night to have her home brought. |
| R. Roister. I tell thee no. |
| M. Mery. How then? |
| R. Roister. 'Tis neither meant ne thought. |
| M. Mery. What shall we then do with her? |
| R. Roister. Ah, foolish harebrain, |
| This is not she. |
| M. Mery. No, is? why then unsaid again. |
| And what young girl is this with your maship so bold? |
| R. Roister. A girl? |
| M. Mery. Yea. I dare say, scarce yet three score year old. |
| R. Roister. This same is the fair widow's nurse, of whom ye wot. |
| M. Mery. Is she but a nurse of a house? hence home, old trot, |
| Hence at once. |
| R. Roister. No, no. |
| M. Mery. What, an please your maship, |
430 | A nurse talk so homely with one of your worship? |
| R. Roister. I will have it so: it is my pleasure and will. |
| M. Mery. Then I am content. Nurse, come again, tarry still. |
| R. Roister. What, she will help forward this my suit for her part. |
| M. Mery. Then is't mine own pigs nie, and blessing on my heart. |
| R. Roister. This is our best friend, man. |
| M. Mery. Then teach her what to say, |
| M. Mumble. I am taught already. |
| M. Mery. Then go, make no delay. |
| R. Roister. Yet hark, one word in thine ear. |
| M. Mery. Back, sirs, from his tail. |
| R. Roister. Back, villains, will ye be privy of my counsel? |
| M. Mery. Back, sirs, so: I told you afore ye would be shent. |
| R. Roister. She shall have the first day a whole peck of argent. |
| M. Mumble. A peck? Nomine patris, have ye so much spare? |
442 | R. Roister. Yea, and a cart-load thereto, or else were it bare, |
| Besides other movables, household stuff, and land. |
| M. Mumble. Have ye lands too? |
| R. Roister. An hundred marks. |
| M. Mery. Yea, a thousand. |
| M. Mumble. And have ye cattle too? and sheep too? |
| R. Roister. Yea, a few. |
| M. Mery. He is ashamed the number of them to show. |
| E'en round about him, as many thousand sheep goes, |
| As he and thou, and I too, have fingers and toes. |
| M. Mumble. And how many years old be you ? |
| R. Roister. Forty at least. |
| M. Mery. Yea, and thrice forty to them. |
450 | R. Roister. Nay, now thou dost jest. |
| I am not so old, thou misreckonest my years. |
| M. Mery. I know that: but my mind was on bullocks and steers. |
| M. Mumble. And what shall I show her your mastership's name is? |
| R. Roister. Nay, she shall make suit ere she know that, i-wis. |
| M. Mumble. Yet let me somewhat know. |
| M. Mery. This is he, understand, |
| That killed the blue spider in Blanchepowder land. |
| M. Mumble. Yea, Jesus, William zee law, did he zo law? |
| M. Mery. Yea, and the last elephant that ever he saw, |
| As the beast passed by, he start out of a busk, |
460 | And e'en with pure strength of arms plucked out his great tusk. |
| M. Mumble. Jesus, nomine patris, what a thing was that? |
| R. Roister. Yea, but, Merygreeke, one thing thou hast forgot. |
| M. Mery. What? |
| R. Roister. Of th' other elephant. |
| M. Mery. Oh, him that fled away. |
| R. Roister. Yea. |
| M. Mery. Yea, he knew that his match was in place that day. |
| Tut, he bet the king of crickets on Christmas day, |
| That he crept in a hole, and not a word to say. |
| M. Mumble. A sore man, by zembletee. |
| M. Mery. Why, he wrung a club |
| Once in a fray out of the hand of Belzebub. |
| R. Roister. And how when Mumfision? |
| M. Mery. Oh, your coustreling |
470 | Bore the lantern a-field so before the gozeling. |
| Nay that is too long a matter now to be told: |
| Never ask his name, nurse, I warrant thee, be bold. |
| He conquered in one day from Rome to Naples, |
| And won towns, nurse, as fast as thou canst make apples. |
| M. Mumble. 0 Lord, my heart quaketh for fear: he is too sore. |
| R. Roister. Thou makest her too much afeard, Merygreeke, no more. |
| This tale would fear my sweetheart Custance right evil. |
| M. Mery. Nay, let her take him, nurse, and fear not the devil. |
| But thus is our song dashed. Sirs, ye may home again. |
| R. Roister. No, shall they not. I charge you all here to remain: |
481 | The villain slaves, a whole day ere they can be found. |
| M. Mery. Couch on your marybones, whoresons, down to the ground. |
| Was it meet he should tarry so long in one place |
| Without harmony of music, or some solace? |
| Whoso hath such bees as your master in his head, |
| Had need to have his spirits with music to be fed. |
| By your mastership's licence. |
| R. Roister. What is that? a mote? |
| M. Mery. No, it was a fowl's feather had light on your coat. |
| R. Roister. I was nigh no feathers since I came from my bed. |
| M. Mery. No, sir, it was a hair that was fall from your head. |
| R. Roister. My men come when it please them. |
| M. Mery. By your leave. |
491 | R. Roister. What is that? |
| M. Mery. Your gown was foul spotted with the foot of a gnat. |
| R. Roister. Their master to offend they are nothing afeard. |
| What now ? |
| M. Mery. A lousy hair from your mastership's beard. |
| Omnes famuli. And sir, for nurse's sake, pardon this one offence. |
| We shall not after this show the like negligence. |
| R. Roister. I pardon you this once, and come, sing ne'er the worse. |
| M. Mery. How like you the goodness of this gentleman, nurse? |
| M. Mumble. God save his mastership that so can his men forgive. |
500 | And I will hear them sing ere I go, by his leave. |
| R. Roister. Marry and thou shalt, wench: come, we two will dance. |
| M. Mumble. Nay, I will by mine own self foot the song perchance. |
| R. Roister. Go to it, sirs, lustily. |
| M. Mumble. Pipe up a merry note, |
| Let me hear it played, I will foot it for a groat. [Cantent. |
| R. Roister. Now, nurse, take this same letter here to thy mistress. |
| And as my trust is in thee, ply my business. |
| M. Mumble. It shall be done. |
| M. Mery. Who made it? |
| R. Roister. I wrote it each whit. |
| M. Mery. Then needs it no mending. |
| R. Roister. No, no. |
| M. Mery. No, I know your wit. |
| I warrant it well. |
| M. Mumble. It shall be delivered. |
510 | But if ye speed, shall I be considered? |
| M. Mery. Whough! dost thou doubt of that? |
| Madge. What shall I have? |
| M. Mery. An hundred times more than thou canst devise to crave. |
| M. Mumble. Shall I have some new gear? for my old is all spent. |
| M. Mery. The worst kitchen wench shall go in ladies' raiment. |
| M. Mumble. Yea? |
| M. Mery. And the worst drudge in the house shall go better |
| Than your mistress doth now. |
| Mar. Then I trudge with your letter. |
| R. Roister. Now, may I repose me: Custance is mine own. |
| Let us sing and play homeward that it may be known. |
| M. Mery. But are you sure that your letter is well enough? |
| R. Roister. I wrote it myself. |
520 | M. Mery. Then sing we to dinner. |
| [Here they sing, and go out singing. |
| |
| |
SCENE V |
Christian Custance. Margerie Mumblecrust. |
| |
| C. Custance. Who took thee this letter, Margerie Mumblecrust? |
| M. Mumble. A lusty gay bachelor took it me of trust, |
| And if ye seek to him he will love your doing. |
| C. Custance. Yea, but where learned he that manner of wooing? |
| M. Mumble. If to sue to him, you will any pains take, |
| He will have you to his wife (he saith) for my sake. |
| C. Custance. Some wise gentleman, belike. I am bespoken: |
| And I thought verily this had been some token |
| From my dear spouse Gawin Goodluck, whom when him please, |
10 | God luckily send home to both our hearts' ease. |
| M. Mumble. A joyly man it is, I wot well by report, |
| And would have you to him for marriage resort; |
| Best open the writing, and see what it doth speak. |
| C. Custance. At this time, nurse, I will neither read ne break. |
| M. Mumble. He promised to give you a whole peck of gold. |
| C. Custance. Perchance, lack of a pint when it shall be all told. |
| M. Mumble. I would take a gay rich husband, and I were you. |
| C. Custance. In good sooth, Madge, e'en so would I, if I were thou. |
| But no more of this fond talk now, let us go in, |
20 | And see thou no more move me folly to begin. |
| Nor bring me no more letters for no man's pleasure, |
| But thou know from whom. |
| M. Mumble. I warrant ye shall be sure. |
| |
| |
ACT II |
SCENE I |
Dobinet Doughtie. |
| |
| D. Dough. Where is the house I go to, before or behind? |
| I know not where nor when nor how I shall it find. |
| If I had ten men's bodies and legs and strength, |
| This trotting that I have must needs lame me at length |
| And now that my master is new set on wooing, |
| I trust there shall none of us find lack of doing: |
| Two pair of shoes a day will now be too little |
| To serve me, I must trot to and fro so mickle. |
| "Go bear me this token, carry me this letter, |
10 | Now this is the best way, now that way is better. |
| Up before day, sirs, I charge you, an hour or twain, |
| Trudge, do me this message, and bring word quick again." |
| If one miss but a minute, then, "His arms and wounds, |
| I would not have slacked for ten thousand pounds. |
| Nay, see, I beseech you, if my most trusty page |
| Go not now about to hinder my marriage." |
| So fervent hot wooing, and so far from wiving, |
| I trow, never was any creature living. |
| With every woman is he in some love's pang, |
20 | Then up to our lute at midnight, twangledom twang, |
| Then twang with our sonnets, and twang with our dumps, |
| And heigho from our heart, as heavy as lead lumps; |
| Then to our recorder with toodleloodle poop, |
| As the howlet out of an ivy bush should hoop. |
| Anon to our gittern, thrumpledum, thrumpledum thrum, |
| Thrumpledum, thrumpledum, thrumpledum, thrumple dum, thrum. |
| Of songs and ballads also he is a maker, |
| And that can he as finely do as Jack Raker; |
| Yea, and extempore will he ditties compose, |
30 | Foolish Marsias ne'er made the like, I suppose, |
| Yet must we sing them, as good stuff I undertake, |
| As for such a pen-man is well fitting to make. |
| "Ah, for these long nights! heigho! when will it be day? |
| I fear ere I come she will be wooed away." |
| Then when answer is made that it may not be, |
| "0 death, why comest thou not?" (by and by saith he) |
| But then, from his heart to put away sorrow, |
| He is as far in with some new love next morrow. |
| But in the mean season, we trudge and we trot, |
40 | From dayspring to midnight, I sit not, nor rest not. |
| And now am I sent to dame Christian Custance: |
| But I fear it will end with a mock for pastance. |
| I bring her a ring, with a token in a clout, |
| And by all guess this same is her house out of doubt. |
| I know it now perfect, I am in my right way. |
| And lo! yond the old nurse that was with us last day. |
| |
| |
SCENE II |
Madge Mumblecrust. Dobinet Doughtie. |
| |
| M. Mumble. I was ne'er so shoke up afore, since I was born. |
| That our mistress could not have chid, I would have sworn: |
| And I pray God I die, if I meant any harm, |
50 | But for my life-time this shall be to me a charm. |
| D. Dough. God you save and see, nurse, and how is it with you? |
| M. Mumble. Marry, a great deal the worse it is for such as thou. |
| D. Dough. For me? Why so? |
| M. Mumble. Why, were not thou one of them, say, |
| That sang and played here with the gentleman last day? |
| D. Dough. Yes, and he would know if you have for him spoken, |
| And prays you to deliver this ring and token. |
| M. Mumble. Now by the token that God tokened, brother, |
| I will deliver no token, one nor other. |
| I have once been so shent for your master's pleasure, |
| As I will not be again for all his treasure. 60 |
| D. Dough. He will thank you, woman. |
| M. Mumble. 1 will none of his thank. [Ex. |
| D. Dough. I ween I am a prophet, this gear will prove blank: |
| But what, should I home again without answer go? |
| It were better go to Rome on my head than so. |
| I will tarry here this month, but some of the house |
| Shall take it of me, and then I care not a louse. |
| But yonder cometh forth a wench or a lad, |
| If he have not one Lombard's touch, my luck is bad. |
| |
| |
SCENE III |
Trupenie. D. Doughtie. Tibet Talkapace. Annot Alyface. |
| Trupenie. I am clean lost for lack of merry company, |
70 | We 'gree not half well within, our wenches and I: |
| They will command like mistresses, they will forbid, |
| If they be not served, Trupenie must be chid. |
| Let them be as merry now as ye can desire, |
| With turning of a hand, our mirth lieth in the mire. |
| I cannot skill of such changeable mettle, |
| There is nothing with them but in dock out nettle. |
| D. Dough. Whether is it better that I speak to him first, |
| Or he first to me? it is good to cast the worst. |
| If I begin first, he will smell all my purpose, |
80 | Otherwise I shall not need anything to disclose. |
| Trupenie. What boy have we yonder? I will see what he is. |
| D. Dough. He cometh to me. It is hereabout, i-wis. |
| Trupenie. Wouldest thou ought, friend, that thou lookest about? |
| D. Dough. Yea, but whether ye can help me or no, I doubt. |
| I seek to one mistress Custance house here dwelling. |
| Trupenie. It is my mistress ye seek too, by your telling. |
| D. Dough. Is there any of that name here but she? |
| Trupenie. Not one in all the whole town that I know, pardee. |
| D. Dough. A widow she is, I trow. |
| Trupenie. And what and she be? |
| D. Dough. But ensured to an husband. |
90 | Trupenie. Yea, so think we. |
| D. Dough. And I dwell with her husband that trusteth to be. |
| Trupenie. In faith, then must thou needs be welcome to me, |
| Let us for acquaintance shake hands together, |
| And whate'er thou be, heartily welcome hither. |
| |
Enter Tibet and Annot. |
| Tib. Talk. Well, Trupenie, never but flinging? |
| An. Alyface. And frisking? |
| Trupenie. Well, Tibet and Annot, still swinging and whisking? |
| Tib. Talk. But ye roil abroad. |
| An. Alyface. In the street everywhere. |
| Trupenie. Where are ye twain, in chambers when ye meet me there? |
| But come hither, fools, I have one now by the hand, |
100 | Servant to him that must be our mistress' husband, |
| Bid him welcome. |
| An. Alyface. To me truly is he welcome. |
| Tib. Talk. Forsooth, and as I may say, heartily welcome. |
| D. Dough. I thank you, mistress maids. |
| An. Alyface. I hope we shall better know. |
| Tib. Talk. And when will our new master come? |
| D. Dough. Shortly, I trow. |
| Tib. Talk. I would it were to-morrow: for till he resort, |
| Our mistress, being a widow, hath small comfort, |
| And I heard our nurse speak of an husband to-day |
| Ready for our mistress, a rich man and a gay. |
| And we shall go in our French hoods every day, |
110 | In our silk cassocks (I warrant you) fresh and gay, |
| In our trick ferdegews and billiments of gold; |
| Brave in our suits of change, seven double fold |
| Then shall ye see Tibet, sirs, tread the moss so trim. |
| Nay, why said I tread? ye shall see her glide and swim, |
| Not lumperdee clumperdee like our spaniel Rig. |
| Trupenie. Marry, then, prick-me-dainty, come toast me a fig, |
| Who shall then know our Tib Talkapace, trow ye? |
| An. Alyface. And why not Annot Alyface as fine as she? |
| Trupenie. And what had Tom Trupenie, a father or none? |
| An. Alyface. Then our pretty new come man will look to be one. |
121 | Trupenie. We four, I trust, shall be a joyly merry knot. |
| Shall we sing a fit to welcome our friend, Annot? |
| An. Alyface. Perchance he cannot sing. |
| D. Dough. I am at all essays. |
| Tib. Talk. By Cock, and the better welcome to us always. |
| |
Here they sing. |
| |
| A thing very fit |
| For them that have wit |
| And are fellows knit, |
| Servants in one house to be, |
| Is fast for to sit, |
130 | And not oft to flit, |
| Nor vary a whit, |
| But lovingly to agree. |
| |
| No man complaining, |
| No other disdaining, |
| For loss or for gaining, |
| But fellows or friends to be. |
| No grudge remaining, |
| No work refraining, |
| Nor help restraining, |
140 | But lovingly to agree. |
| |
| No man for despite, |
| By word or by write |
| His fellow to twite, |
| But further in honesty, |
| No good turns entwite, |
| Nor old sores recite, |
| But let all go quite, |
| And lovingly to agree. |
| |
| After drudgery, |
150 | When they be weary, |
| Then to be merry, |
| To laugh and sing they be free; |
| With chip and cherie |
| Heigh derie derie, |
| Trill on the berie, |
| And lovingly to agree. |
Finis. |
| |
| Tib. Talk. Will you now in with us unto our mistress go? |
| D. Dough. I have first for my master an errand or two. |
| But I have here from him a token and a ring, |
| They shall have most thank of her that first doth it bring. |
| Tib. Talk. Marry, that will I. |
161 | Trupenie. See, and Tibet snatch not now. |
| Tib. Talk. And why may not I, sir, get thanks as well as you? [Exeat. |
| An. Alyface. Yet get ye not all, we will go with you both, |
| And have part of your thanks, be ye never so loth. [Exeant omnes. |
| D. Dough. So my hands are rid of it: I care for no more. |
| I may now return home: so durst I not afore. [Exeat. |
| |
| |
SCENE IV |
C. Custance. Tibet. Annot Alyface. Trupenie. |
| |
| C. Custance. Nay, come forth all three: and come hither, pretty maid: |
| Will not so many forewarnings make you afraid? |
| Tib. Talk. Yes, forsooth. |
| C. Custance. But still be a runner up and down, |
170 | Still be a bringer of tidings and tokens to town. |
| Tib. Talk. No, forsooth, mistress. |
| C. Custance. Is all your delight and joy |
| In whisking and ramping abroad like a Tom-boy? |
| Tib. Talk. Forsooth, these were there too, Annot and Trupenie. |
| Trupenie. Yea, but ye alone took it, ye cannot deny. |
| An. Alyface. Yea, that ye did. |
| Tibet. But if I had not, ye twain would. |
| C. Custance. You great calf, ye should have more wit, so ye should: |
| But why should any of you take such things in hand? |
| Tibet. Because it came from him that must be your husband. |
| C. Custance. How do ye know that? |
| Tibet. Forsooth, the boy did say so. |
| C. Custance. What was his name? |
| An. Alyface. We asked not. |
180 | C. Custance. No, did? |
| An. Alyface. He is not far gone, of likelihood. |
| Trupenie. I will see. |
| C. Custance. If thou canst find him in the street, bring him to me. |
| Trupenie. Yes. [Exeat. |
| C. Custance. Well, ye naughty girls, if ever I perceive |
| That henceforth you do letters or tokens receive, |
| To bring unto me from any person or place, |
| Except ye first show me the party face to face, |
| Either thou or thou, full truly abye thou shalt. |
| Tibet. Pardon this, and the next time powder me in salt. |
| C. Custance. I shall make all girls by you twain to beware. |
190 | Tibet. If ever I offend again, do not me spare. |
| But if ever I see that false boy any more |
| By your mistresship's licence, I tell you afore, |
| I will rather have my coat twenty times swinged, |
| Than on the naughty wag not to be avenged. |
| C. Custance. Good wenches would not so ramp abroad idly. |
| But keep within doors, and ply their work earnestly. |
| If one would speak with me that is a man likely, |
| Ye shall have right good thank to bring me word quickly. |
| But otherwise with messages to come in post |
200 | From henceforth, I promise you, shall be to your cost. |
| Get you in to your work. |
| Tibet. Yes, forsooth. |
| C. Custance. Hence, both twain. |
| And let me see you play me such a part again. |
Re-enter Trupenie. |
| Trupenie. Mistress, I have run past the far end of the street, |
| Yet can I not yonder crafty boy see nor meet. |
| C. Custance. No? |
| Trupenie. Yet I looked as far beyond the people, |
| As one may see out of the top of Paul's steeple. |
| C. Custance. Hence, in at doors, and let me no more be vexed. |
| Trupenie. Forgive me this one fault, and lay on for the next. [Exeat. |
| C. Custance. Now will I in too, for I think, so God me mend, |
210 | This will prove some foolish matter in the end. [Exeat. |
| |
| |
ACT III |
SCENE I |
Mathew Merygreeke. |
| |
| M. Mery. Now say this again: he hath somewhat to doing |
| Which followeth the trace of one that is wooing, |
| Specially that hath no more wit in his head, |
| Than my cousin Roister Doister withal is led. |
| I am sent in all haste to espy and to mark |
| How our letters and tokens are likely to wark. |
| Master Roister Doister must have answer in haste, |
| For he loveth not to spend much labour in waste. |
| Now as for Christian Custance, by this light, |
10 | Though she had not her troth to Gawin Goodluck plight, |
| Yet rather than with such a loutish dolt to marry, |
| I daresay would live a poor life solitary. |
| But fain would I speak with Custance, if I wist how, |
| To laugh at the matter: yond cometh one forth now. |
| |
| |
SCENE II |
Tibet. M. Merygreeke. Christian Custance. |
| |
| Tib. Talk. Ah, that I might but once in my life have a sight |
| Of him that made us all so ill shent: by this light, |
| He should never escape if I had him by the ear, |
| But even from his head I would it bite or tear. |
| Yea, and if one of them were not enow, |
20 | I would bite them both off, I make God avow. |
| M. Mery. What is he, whom this little mouse doth so threaten? |
| Tib. Talk. I would teach him, I trow, to make girls shent or beaten. |
| M. Mery. I will call her: Maid, with whom are ye so hasty? |
| Tib. Talk. Not with you, sir, but with a little wagpasty, |
| A deceiver of folks by subtle craft and guile. |
| M. Mery. I know where she is: Dobinet hath wrought some wile. |
| Tib. Talk. He brought a ring and token which he said was sent |
| From our dame's husband, but I wot well I was shent: |
| For it liked her as well, to tell you no lies, |
30 | As water in her ship, or salt cast in her eyes: |
| And yet whence it came neither we nor she can tell. |
| M. Mery. We shall have sport anon: I like this very well. |
| And dwell ye here with mistress Custance, fair maid? |
| Tib. Talk. Yea, marry do I, sir: what would ye have said? |
| M. Mery. A little message unto her by word of mouth. |
| Tib. Talk. No messages, by your leave, nor tokens forsooth. |
| M. Mery. Then help me to speak with her. |
| Tib. Talk. With a good will that. |
| Here she cometh forth. Now speak ye know best what. |
| C. Custance. None other life with you, maid, but abroad to skip? |
40 | Tib. Talk. Forsooth, here is one would speak with your mistress-ship. |
| C. Custance. Ah, have ye been learning of mo messages now? |
| Tib. Talk. I would not hear his mind, but bade him show it to you. |
| C. Custance. In at doors. |
| Tib. Talk. I am gone. [Ex. |
| M. Mery. Dame Custance, God ye save. |
| C. Custance. Welcome, friend Merygreeke: and what thing would ye have? |
| M. Mery. I am come to you a little matter to break. |
| C. Custance. But see it be honest, else better not to speak. |
| M. Mery. How feel ye yourself affected here of late? |
| C. Custance. I feel no manner change but after the old rate. |
| But whereby do ye mean? |
| M. Mery. Concerning marriage. Doth not love lade you? |
50 | C. Custance. I feel no such carriage. |
| M. Mery. Do ye feel no pangs of dotage? answer me right. |
| C. Custance. I dote so, that I make but one sleep all the night. |
| But what need all these words ? |
| M. Mery. Oh, Jesus, will ye see |
| What dissembling creatures these same women be? |
| The gentleman ye wot of, whom ye do so love, |
| That ye would fain marry him, if ye durst it move, |
| Among other rich widows, which are of him glad, |
| Lest ye for lesing of him perchance might run mad, |
| Is now contented that upon your suit making, |
60 | Ye be as one in election of taking. |
| C. Custance. What a tale is this? that I wote of? whom I love? |
| M. Mery. Yea, and he is as loving a worm again as a dove. |
| E'en of very pity he is willing you to take, |
| Because ye shall not destroy yourself for his sake. |
| C. Custance. Marry, God yeld his maship whatever he be. |
| It is gentmanly spoken. |
| M. Mery. Is it not, trow ye? |
| If ye have the grace now to offer yourself, ye speed. |
| C. Custance. As much as though I did, this time it shall not need. |
| But what gentman is it, I pray you tell me plain, |
| That wooeth so finely? |
70 | M. Mery. Lo, where ye be again, |
| As though ye knew him not. |
| C. Custance. Tush, ye speak in jest. |
| M. Mery. Nay sure, the party is in good knacking earnest, |
| And have you he will (he saith), and have you he must. |
| C. Custance. I am promised during my life, that is just. |
| M. Mery. Marry, so thinketh he, unto him alone. |
| C. Custance. No creature hath my faith and troth but one, |
| That is Gawyn Goodluck: and if it be not he, |
| He hath no title this way whatever he be, |
| Nor I know none to whom I have such word spoken. |
80 | M. Mery. Ye know him not you by his letter and token. |
| C. Custance. Indeed true it is, that a letter I have, |
| But I never read it yet, as God me save. |
| M. Mery. Ye a woman? and your letter so long unread. |
| C. Custance. Ye may thereby know what haste I have to wed. |
| But now who it is, for my hand I know by guess. |
| M. Mery. Ah, well I say. |
| C. Custance. It is Roister Doister, doubtless. |
| M. Mery. Will ye never leave this dissimulation? |
| Ye know him not. |
| C. Custance. But by imagination, |
| For no man there is but a very dolt and lout |
90 | That to woo a widow would so go about. |
| He shall never have me his wife while he do live. |
| M. Mery. Then will he have you if he may, so mote I thrive, |
| And he biddeth you send him word by me, |
| That ye humbly beseech him, ye may his wife be, |
| And that there shall be no let in you nor mistrust, |
| But to be wedded on Sunday next if he lust, |
| And biddeth you to look for him. |
| C. Custance. Doth he bid so? |
| M. Mery. When he cometh, ask him whether he did or no. |
| C. Custance. Go say, that I bid him keep him warm at home, |
100 | For if he come abroad, he shall cough me a mome. |
| My mind was vexed, I shrew his head, sottish dolt. |
| M. Mery. He hath in his head - |
| C. Custance. As much brain as a burbolt. |
| M. Mery. Well, dame Custance, if he hear you thus play chop-loge - |
| C. Custance. What will he? |
| M. Mery. Play the devil in the horologe. |
| C. Custance. I defy him, lout. |
| M. Mery. Shall I tell him what ye say? |
| C. Custance. Yea, and add whatsoever thou canst, I thee pray. |
| And I will avouch it, whatsoever it be. |
| M. Mery. Then let me alone; we will laugh well, ye shall see, |
| It will not be long ere he will hither resort. |
| C. Custance. Let him come when him lust, I wish no better sport. |
111 | Fare ye well, I will in, and read my great letter. |
| I shall to my wooer make answer the better. [Exeat. |
| |
| |
SCENE III |
Mathew Merygreeke. Roister Doister. |
| |
| M. Mery. Now that the whole answer in my devise doth rest, |
| I shall paint out our wooer in colours of the best. |
| And all that I say shall be on Custance's mouth, |
| She is author of all that I shall speak forsooth. |
| But yond cometh Roister Doister now in a trance. |
| R. Roister. Juno send me this day good luck and good chance. |
| I cannot but come see how Merygreeke doth speed. |
120 | M. Mery. I will not see him, but give him a jut indeed. |
| I cry your mastership mercy. |
| R. Roister. And whither now? |
| M. Mery. As fast as I could run, sir, in post against you. |
| But why speak ye so faintly, or why are ye so sad? |
| R. Roister. Thou knowest the proverb, because I cannot be had. |
| Hast thou spoken with this woman? |
| M. Mery. Yea, that I have. |
| R. Roister. And what will this gear be? |
| M. Mery. No, so God me save. |
| R. Roister. Hast thou a flat answer? |
| M. Mery. Nay, a sharp answer. |
| R. Roister. What? |
| M. Mery. Ye shall not (she saith) by her will marry her cat. |
| Ye are such a calf, such an ass, such a block, |
130 | Such a lilburn, such a hoball, such a lobcock, |
| And because ye should come to her at no season, |
| She despised your maship out of all reason. |
| Beware what ye say (ko I) of such a gentman, |
| Nay, I fear him not (ko she), do the best he can. |
| He vaunteth himself for a man of prowess great, |
| Whereas a good gander, I daresay, may him beat. |
| And where he is Touted and laughed to scorn, |
| For the veriest dolt that ever was born, |
| And veriest lover, sloven and beast, |
140 | Living in this world from the west to the east: |
| Yet of himself hath he such opinion, |
| That in all the world is not the like minion. |
| He thinketh each woman to be brought in dotage |
| With the only sight of his goodly personage: |
| Yet none that will have him: we do him lout and flock, |
| And make him among us our common sporting stock, |
| And so would I now (ko she), save only because Better nay (ko I), |
| I lust not meddle with daws. Ye are happy (ko I) that ye are a woman, |
150 | This would cost you your life in case ye were a man. |
| R. Roister. Yea, an hundred thousand pound should not save her life. |
| M. Mery. No, but that ye woo her to have her to your wife. |
| But I could not stop her mouth. |
| R. Roister. Heigh ho, alas! |
| M. Mery. Be of good cheer, man, and let the world pass. |
| R. Roister. What shall I do or say now that it will not be? |
| M. Mery. Ye shall have choice of a thousand as good as she, |
| And ye must pardon her, it is for lack of wit. |
| R. Roister. Yea, for were not I an husband for her fit? |
| Well, what should I now do? |
| M. Mery. In faith I cannot tell. |
| R. Roister. I will go home and die. |
160 | M. Mery. Then shall I bid toll the bell? |
| R. Roister. No. |
| M. Mery. God have mercy on your soul, ah, good gentleman, |
| That e'er ye should th[u]s die for an unkind woman. |
| Will ye drink once ere ye go ? |
| R. Roister. No, no, I will none. |
| M. Mery. How feel your soul to God? |
| R. Roister. I am nigh gone. |
| M. Mery. And shall we hence straight? |
| R. Roister. Yea. |
| M. Mery. Placebo dilexi. [ut infra.
|
| Master Roister Doister will straight go home and die. |
| R. Roister. Heigh-how! alas, the pangs of death my heart do break. |
| M. Mery. Hold your peace for shame, sir, a dead man may not speak. |
| Nequando. What mourners and what torches shall we have? |
| R. Roister. None. |
170 | M. Mery. Dirige. He will go darkling to his grave, |
| Neque lux, neque crux, neque mourners, neque clink, |
| He will steal to heaven, unknowing to God, I think. |
| A porta inferi. Who shall your goods possess? |
| R. Roister. Thou shalt be my sectour, and have all more and less. |
| M. Mery. Requiem aternam. Now, God reward your mastership. |
| And I will cry halfpenny-dole for your worship. |
| Come forth, sirs, hear the doleful news I shall you tell. [Evocat servos militis. |
| Our good master here will no longer with us dwell, |
| But in spite of Custance, which hath him wearied, |
180 | Let us see his maship solemnly buried. |
| And while some piece of his soul is yet him within, |
| Some part of his funerals let us here begin. |
| Audivi vocem. All men take heede by this one gentleman; |
| How you set your love upon an unkind woman. |
| For these women be all such mad peevish elves, |
| They will not be won except it please themselves. |
| But in faith, Custance, if ever ye come in hell, |
| Master Roister Doister shall serve you as well. |
| And will ye needs go from us thus in very deed? |
| R. Roister. Yea, in good sadness. |
190 | M. Mery. Now, Jesus Christ be your speed. |
| Good-night, Roger old knave; farewell, Roger old knave. |
| Good-night, Roger old knave, knave, knap. [ut infra. |
| Pray for the late master Roister Doister's soul, |
| And come forth, parish clerk, let the passing bell toll. [Ad servos militis. |
| Pray for your master, sirs, and for him ring a peal. |
| He was your right good master while he was in heal. |
| Qui Lazarum. |
| R. Roister. Heigh-how! |
| M. Mery. Dead men go not so fast |
| In Paradisum. |
| R. Roister. Heihow! |
| M. Mery. Soft, hear what I have cast. |
| R. Roister. I will hear nothing, I am past. |
| M. Mery. Whough, wellaway. |
200 | Ye may tarry one hour, and hear what I shall say, |
| Ye were best, sir, for a while to revive again, |
| And quite them ere ye go. |
| R. Roister. Trowest thou so? |
| M. Mery. Ye, plain. |
| R. Roister. How may I revive, being now so far past? |
| M. Mery. I will rub your temples, and fet you again at last. |
| R. Roister. It will not be possible. |
| M. Mery. Yes, for twenty pound. |
| R. Roister. Arms, what dost thou? |
| M. Mery. Fet you again out of your sound. |
| By this cross ye were nigh gone indeed, I might feel |
| Your soul departing within an inch of your heel. |
| Now follow my counsel. |
| R. Roister. What is it? |
| M. Mery. If I were you, |
210 | Custance should eft seek to me, ere I would bow. |
| R. Roister. Well, asthou wilt have me, even so will I do. |
| M. Mery. Then shall ye revive again for an hour or two. |
| R. Roister. As thou wilt, I am content for a little space. |
| M. Mery. Good hap is not hasty: yet in space com[e]th grace. |
| To speak with Custance yourself should be very well, |
| What good thereof may come, nor I nor you can tell. |
| But now the matter standeth upon your marriage, |
| Ye must now take unto you a lusty courage, |
| Ye may not speak with a faint heart to Custance, |
220 | But with a lusty breast and countenance, |
| That she may know she hath to answer to a man. |
| R. Roister. Yes, I can do that as well as any can. |
| M. Mery. Then because ye must Custance face to face woo, |
| Let us see how to behave yourself ye can do. |
| Ye must have a portly brag after your estate. |
| R. Roister. Tush, I can handle that after the best rate. |
| M. Mery. Well done! so lo, up man with your head and chin, |
| Up with that snout, man! so lo, now ye begin! |
| So, that is somewhat like, but pranky cote, nay whan? |
230 | That is a lusty brute; hands under your side, man. |
| So lo, now is it even as it should be, |
| That is somewhat like, for a man of your degree. |
| Then must ye stately go, jetting up and down. |
| Tut, can ye no better shake the tail of your gown? |
| There, lo, such a lusty brag it is ye must make. |
| R. Roister. To come behind, and make curtesy, thou must some pains take. |
| M. Mery. Else were I much to blame, I thank your mastership. |
| The lord one day all to begrime you with worship, |
| Back, sir sauce, let gentlefolks have elbow room, |
240 | 'Void, sirs, see ye not master Roister Doister come? |
| Make place, my masters. |
| R. Roister. Thou jostlest now too nigh. |
| M. Mery. Back, all rude louts. |
| R. Roister. Tush! |
| M. Mery. I cry your maship mercy. |
| Hoighdagh, if fair fine mistress Custance saw you now, |
| Ralph Roister Doister were her own, I warrant you. |
| R. Roister. Near an M by your girdle? |
| M. Mery. Your good mastership's |
| Mastership, were her own mistress-ship's mistress-ships, |
| Ye were take up for hawks, ye were gone, ye were gone, |
| But now one other thing more yet I think upon. |
| R. Roister. Show what it is. |
| M. Mery. A wooer, be he never so poor, |
250 | Must play and sing before his best-beloved's door, |
| How much more than you ? |
| R. Roister. Thou speakest well, out of doubt. |
| M. Mery. And perchance that would make her the sooner come out. |
| R. Roister. Go call my musicians, bid them hie apace. |
| M. Mery. I will be here with them ere ye can say trey ace. [Exeat. |
| R. Roister. This was well said of Merygreeke, I 'low his wit. |
| Before my sweetheart's door we will have a fit, |
| That if my love come forth, that I may with her talk, |
| I doubt not but this gear shall on my side walk. |
| But lo, how well Merygreeke is returned sence. |
Re-enter Merygreeke. |
260 | M. Mery. There hath grown no grass on my heel since I went hence, |
| Lo, here have I brought that shall make you pastance. |
| R. Roister. Come, sirs, let us sing to win my dear love Custance. |
Cantent. |
| M. Mery. Lo, where she cometh, some countenance to her make, |
| And ye shall hear me be plain with her for your sake. |
| |
| |
| |
SCENE IV |
Custance. Merygreeke. Roister Doister. |
| |
| C. Custance. What gauding and fooling is this afore my door? |
| M. Mery. May not folks be honest, pray you, though they be poor? |
| C. Custance. As that thing may be true, so rich folks may be fools. |
| R. Roister. Her talk is as fine as she had learned in schools. |
| M. Mery. Look partly toward her, and draw a little near. |
| C. Custance. Get ye home, idle folks. |
270 | M. Mery. Why, may not we be here? |
| Nay, and ye will haze, haze: otherwise, I tell you plain, |
| And ye will not haze, then give us our gear again. |
| C. Custance. Indeed I have of yours much gay things, God save all. |
| R. Roister. Speak gently unto her, and let her take all. |
| M. Mery. Ye are too tender-hearted: shall she make us daws? |
| Nay, dame, I will be plain with you in my friend's cause. |
| R. Roister. Let all this pass, sweetheart, and accept my service. |
| C. Custance. I will not be served with a fool in no wise, |
| When I choose an husband I hope to take a man. |
| M. Mery. And where will ye find one which can do that he can? |
281 | Now this man toward you being so kind, |
| You not to make him an answer somewhat to his mind. |
| C. Custance. I sent him a full answer by you, did I not? |
| M. Mery. And I reported it. |
| C. Custance. Nay, I must speak it again. |
| R. Roister. No, no, he told it all. |
| M. Mery. Was I not metely plain? |
| R. Roister. Yes. |
| M. Mery. But I would not tell all; for faith, if I had, |
| With you, dame Custance, ere this hour it had been bad, |
| And not without cause: for this goodly personage |
| Meant no less than to join with you in marriage. |
| C. Custance. Let him waste no more labour nor suit about me. |
291 | M. Mery. Ye know not where your preferment lieth, I see, |
| He sending you such a token, ring and letter. |
| C. Custance. Marry, here it is; ye never saw a better. |
| M. Mery. Let us see your letter. |
| C. Custance. Hold, read it if ye can. |
| And see what letter it is to win a woman. |
| M. Mery. "To mine own dear coney bird, sweetheart, and pigsny, |
| Good Mistress Custance, present these by and by." |
| Of this superscription do ye blame the style? |
| C. Custance. With the rest as good stuff as ye read a great while. |
| M. Mery. "Sweet mistress, where as I love you nothing at all, |
301 | Regarding your substance and richesse chief of all, |
| For your personage, beauty, demeanour and wit, |
| I commend me unto you never a whit. |
| Sorry to hear report of your good welfare, |
| For (as I hear say) such your conditions are, |
| That ye be worthy favour of no living man, |
| To be abhorred of every honest man. |
| To be taken for a woman inclined to vice. |
| Nothing at all to virtue giving her due price. |
310 | Wherefore, concerning marriage, ye are thought |
| Such a fine paragon, as ne'er honest man bought. |
| And now by these presents I do you advertise |
| That I am minded to marry you in no wise. |
| For your goods and substance, I could be content |
| To take you as ye are. If ye mind to be my wife, |
| Ye shall be assured for the time of my life, |
| I will keep you right well, from good raiment and fare, |
| Ye shall not be kept but in sorrow and care. |
| Ye shall in no wise live at your own liberty, |
320 | Do and say what ye lust, ye shall never please me, |
| But when ye are merry, I will be all sad; |
| When ye are sorry, I will be very glad. |
| When ye seek your heart's ease, I will be unkind. |
| At no time in me shall ye much gentleness find. |
| But all things contrary to your will and mind, |
| Shall be done: otherwise I will not be behind |
| To speak. And as for all them that would do you wrong |
| I will so help and maintain, ye shall not live long. |
| Nor any foolish dolt shall cumber you but I. |
| I, whoe'er say nay, will stick by you till I die, |
| Thus, good mistress Custance, the Lord you save and keep, |
330 | From me, Roister Doister, whether I wake or sleep. |
| Who favoureth you no less (ye may be bold) |
| Than this letter purporteth, which ye have unfold." |
| C. Custance. How by this letter of love? is it not fine? |
| R. Roister. By the arms of Caleys it is none of mine. |
| M. Mery. Fie, you are foul to blame, this is your own hand. |
| C. Custance. Might not a woman be proud of such an husband? |
339 | M. Mery. Ah, that ye would in a letter show such despite. |
| R. Roister. Oh, I would I had him here, the which did it endite. |
| M. Mery. Why, ye made it yourself, ye told me by this light. |
| R. Roister. Yea, I meant I wrote it mine own self yesternight. |
| C. Custance. I-wis, sir, I would not have sent you such a mock. |
| R. Roister. Ye may so take it, but I meant it not so, by Cock. |
| M. Mery. Who can blame this woman to fume and fret and rage? |
| Tut, tut! yourself now have marred your own marriage. |
| Well, yet mistress Custance, if ye can this remit, |
| This gentleman otherwise may your love requit. |
| C. Custance. No, God be with you both, and seek no more to me. [Exeat. |
| R. Roister. Wough! she is gone for ever, I shall her no more see. |
351 | M. Mery. What, weep? fie, for shame, and blubber? For manhood's sake, |
| Never let your foe so much pleasure of you take. |
| Rather play the man's part, and do love refrain. |
| If she despise you, e'en despise ye her again. |
| R. Roister. By Goss, and for thy sake I defy her indeed. |
| M. Mery. Yea, and perchance that way ye shall much sooner speed, |
| For one mad property these women have in fey, |
| When ye will, they will not: will not ye, then will they. |
| Ah, foolish woman! ah, most unlucky Custance! |
360 | Ah, unfortunate woman! ah, peevish Custance! |
| Art thou to thine harms so obstinately bent, |
| That thou canst not see where lieth thine high preferment? |
| Canst thou not lub dis man, which could lub dee so well? |
| Art thou so much thine own foe? |
| R. Roister. Thou dost the truth tell. |
| M. Mery. Well I lament. |
| R. Roister. So do I. |
| M. Mery. Wherefore? |
| R. Roister. For this thing |
| Because she is gone. |
| M. Mery. I mourn for another thing. |
| R. Roister. What is it, Merygreeke, wherefore thou dost grief take? |
| M. Mery. That I am not a woman myself for your sake, |
| I would have you myself, and a straw for yond Gill, |
| And mock much of you though it were against my will. |
371 | I would not, I warrant you, fall in such a rage, |
| As so to refuse such a goodly personage. |
| R. Roister. In faith, I heartily thank thee, Merygreeke. |
| M. Mery. And I were a woman - |
| R. Roister. Thou wouldest to me seek. |
| M. Mery. For, though I say it, a goodly person ye be. |
| R. Roister. No, no. |
| M. Mery. Yes, a goodly man as e'er I did see. |
| R. Roister. No, I am a poor homely man, as God made me. |
| M. Mery. By the faith that I owe to God, sir, but ye be, |
| Would I might for your sake, spend a thousand pound land. |
| R. Roister. I dare say thou wouldest have me to thy husband. |
381 | M. Mery. Yea: and I were the fairest lady in the shire, |
| And knew you as I know you, and see you now here. |
| Well, I say no more.
|
| R. Roister. Gramercies, with all my heart. |
| M. Mery. But since that cannot be, will ye play a wise part? |
| R. Roister. How should I? |
| M. Mery. Refrain from Custance a while now, |
| And I warrant her soon right glad to seek to you. |
| Ye shall see her anon come on her knees creeping, |
| And pray you to be good to her, salt tears weeping. |
| R. Roister. But what and she come not? |
| M. Mery. In faith, then, farewell she. |
390 | Or else if ye be wroth, ye may avenged be. |
| R. Roister. By Cock's precious potstick, and e'en so I shall. |
| I will utterly destroy her, and house and all. |
| But I would be avenged in the mean space, |
| On that vile scribbler, that did my wooing disgrace. |
| M. Mery. Scribbler (ko you), indeed he is worthy no less. |
|  I will call him to you, and ye bid me doubtless. ; |
| R. Roister. Yes, for although he had as many lives, |
| As a thousand widows, and a thousand wives, |
| As a thousand lions, and a thousand rats, |
400 | A thousand wolves, and a thousand cats, |
| A thousand bulls, and a thousand calves, |
| And a thousand legions divided in halves, |
|  He shall never 'scape death on my sword's point,; |
| Though I should be torn therefore joint by joint. |
| M. Mery. Nay, if ye will kill him, I will not bet him, |
| I will not in so much extremity set him; |
| He may yet amend, sir, and be an honest man, |
| Therefore pardon him, good soul, as much as ye can. |
| R. Roister. Well, for thy sake, this once with his life he shall pass, |
410 | But I will hew him all to pieces, by the Mass. |
| M. Mery. Nay, faith, ye shall promise that he shall no harm have, |
| Else I will not bet him. |
| R. Roister. I shall so, God me save. |
| But I may chide him a good. |
| M. Mery. Yea, that do hardly. |
| R. Roister. Go, then. |
| M. Mery. I return, and bring him to you by and by. [Ex. |
| |
| |
SCENE V |
Roister Doister. Mathew Merygreeke. Scrivener. |
| |
| R. Roister. What is a gentleman but his word and his promise? |
| I must now save this villain's life in any wise, |
| And yet at him already my hands do tickle, |
| I shall uneth hold them, they will be so fickle. |
| But lo, and Merygreeke have not brought him sens. |
420 | M. Mery. Nay, I would I had of my purse paid forty pens. |
| Scrivener. So would I too: but it needed not that stound. |
| M. Mery. But the gentman had rather spent five thousand pound, |
| For it disgraced him at least five times so much. |
| Scrivener. He disgraced himself, his loutishness is such. |
| R. Roister. How long they stand prating! Why comest thou not away ? |
| M. Mery. Come now to himself, and hark what he will say. |
| Scrivener. I am not afraid in his presence to appear. |
| R. Roister. Art thou come, fellow? |
| Scrivener. How think you? am I not here? |
| R. Roister. What hindrance hast thou done me, and what villainy? |
430 | Scrivener. It hath come of thyself, if thou hast had any. |
| R. Roister. All the stock thou comest of later or rather, |
| From thy first father's grandfather's father's father, |
| Nor all that shall come of thee to the world's end, |
| Though to threescore generations they descend, |
| Can be able to make me a just recompense, |
| For this trespass of thine and this one offence. |
| Scrivener. Wherein? |
| R. Roister. Did not you make me a letter, brother? |
| Scrivener. Pay the like hire, I will make you such another. |
| R. Roister. Nay, see and these whoreson Pharisees and Scribes |
440 | Do not get their living by polling and bribes. |
| If it were not for shame - |
| Scrivener. Nay, hold thy hands still. |
| M. Mery. Why, did ye not promise that ye would not him spill? |
| Scrivener. Let him not spare me. |
| R. Roister. Why wilt thou strike me again? |
| Scrivener. Ye shall have as good as ye bring of me, that is plain. |
| M. Mery. I cannot blame him, sir, though your blows would him grieve. |
| For he knoweth present death to ensue of all ye give. |
| R. Roister. Well, this man for once hath purchased thy pardon. |
| Scrivener. And what say ye to me? or else I will be gone. |
| R. Roister. I say the letter thou madest me was not good. |
450 | Scrivener. Then did ye wrong copy it, of likelihood. |
| R. Roister. Yes, out of thy copy word for word I wrote. |
| Scrivener. Then was it as ye prayed to have it, I wot, |
| But in reading and pointing there was made some fault. |
| R. Roister. I wot not, but it made all my matter to halt. |
| Scrivener. How say you, is this mine original or no? |
| R. Roister. The self same that I wrote out of, so mote I go. |
| Scrivener. Look you on your own fist, and I will look on this, |
| And let this man be judge whether I read amiss. |
| "To mine own dear coney bird, sweetheart, and pigsny, |
460 | Good Mistress Custance, present these by and by." |
| How now? doth not this superscription agree? |
| R. Roister. Read that is within, and there ye shall the fault see. |
| Scrivener. "Sweet mistress, whereas I love you, nothing at all |
| Regarding your richesse and substance: chief of all |
| For your personage, beauty, demeanour, and wit |
| I commend me unto you: never a whit |
| Sorry to hear report of your good welfare. |
| For (as I hear say) such your conditions are, |
| That ye be worthy of favour: of no living man |
470 | To be abhorred: of every honest man |
| To be taken for a woman inclined to vice |
| Nothing at all: to virtue giving her due price. |
| Wherefore concerning marriage, ye are thought |
| Such a fine paragon, as ne'er honest man bought. |
| And now by these presents I do you advertise, |
| That I am minded to marry you: in no wise |
| For your goods and substance: I can be content |
| To take you as you are: if ye will be my wife, |
| Ye shall be assured for the time of my life, |
480 | I will keep you right well: from good raiment and fare, |
| Ye shall not be kept: but in sorrow and care
|
| Ye shall in no wise live: at your own liberty, |
| Do and say what ye lust: ye shall never please me |
| But when ye are merry: I will be all sad |
| When ye are sorry: I will be very glad |
| When ye seek your heart's ease: I will be unkind |
| At no time: in me shall ye much gentleness find. |
| But all things contrary to your will and mind |
| Shall be done otherwise: I will not be behind |
490 | To speak: and as for all them that would do you wrong, |
| (I will so help and maintain ye) shall not live long. |
| Nor any foolish dolt shall cumber you, but I, |
| I, whoe'er say nay, will stick by you till I die. |
| Thus, good mistress Custance, the Lord you save and keep, |
| From me, Roister Doister, whether I wake or sleep, |
| Who favoureth you no less (ye may be bold), |
| Than this letter purporteth, which ye have unfold." |
| Now, sir, what default can ye find in this letter? |
| R. Roister. Of truth, in my mind there cannot be a better. |
500 | Scrivener. Then was the fault in reading, and not in writing, |
| No, nor I dare say in the form of enditing. |
| But who read this letter, that it sounded so naught? |
| M. Mery. I read it, indeed. |
| Scrivener. Ye read it not as ye ought. |
| R. Roister. Why, thou wretched villain, was all this same fault in thee? |
| M. Mery. I knock your costard if ye offer to strike me. |
| R. Roister. Strikest thou, indeed? and I offer but in jest? |
| M. Mery. Yea, and rap you again except ye can sit in rest. |
| And I will no longer tarry here, me believe. |
| R. Roister. What, wilt thou be angry, and I do thee forgive? |
510 | Fare thou well, scribbler, I cry thee mercy indeed. |
| Scrivener. Fare ye well, bibbler, and worthily may ye speed. |
| R. Roister. If it were another but thou, it were a knave. |
| M. Mery. Ye are another yourself, sir, the Lord us both save. |
| Albeit in this matter I must your pardon crave. |
| Alas, would ye wish in me the wit that ye have? |
| But as for my fault I can quickly amend, |
| I will show Custance it was I that did offend. |
| R. Roister. By so doing her anger may be reformed. |
| M. Mery. But if by no entreaty she will be turned, |
520 | Then set light by her and be as testy as she, |
| And do your force upon her with extremity. |
| R. Roister. Come on, therefore, let us go home in sadness. |
| M. Mery. That if force shall need all may be in a readiness, |
| And as for this letter hardly let all go, |
| We will know where she refuse you for that or no. [Exeant am. |
| |
|
ACT IV |
SCENE I |
Sym Suresby. |
| |
| Sym Sure. Is there any man but I, Sym Suresby, alone, |
| That would have taken such an enterprise him upon, |
| In such an outrageous tempest as this was, |
| Such a dangerous gulf of the sea to pass? |
| I think, verily, Neptune's mighty godship |
| Was angry with some that was in our ship, |
| And but for the honesty which in me he found, |
| I think for the others' sake we had been drowned. |
| But fie on that servant which for his master's wealth |
10 | Will stick for to hazard both his life and his health. |
| My master, Gawyn Goodluck, after me a day, |
| Because of the weather, thought best his ship to stay, |
| And now that I have the rough surges so well past, |
| God grant I may find all things safe here at last. |
| Then will I think all my travail well spent. |
| Now the first point wherefore my master hath me sent |
| Is to salute dame Christian Custance, his wife |
| Espoused, whom he tendereth no less than his life. |
| I must see how it is with her, well or wrong, |
20 | And whether for him she doth not now think long: |
| Then to other friends I have a message or tway, |
| And then so to return and meet him on the way. |
| Now will I go knock that I may despatch with speed, |
| But lo, forth cometh herself happily indeed. |
| |
| |
SCENE II |
Christian Custance. Sym Suresby. |
| |
| C. Custance. I come to see if any more stirring be here, |
| But what stranger is this which doth to me appear? |
| Sym Sure. I will speak to her: Dame, the Lord you save and see. |
| C. Custance. What, friend Sym Suresby? Forsooth, right welcome ye be, |
| How doth mine own Gawyn Goodluck, I pray thee tell? |
30 | Sym Sure. When he knoweth of your health he will be perfect well. |
| C. Custance. If he have perfect health, I am as I would be. |
| Sym Sure. Such news will please him well, this is as it should be. |
| C. Custance. I think now long for him. |
| Sym Sure. And he as long for you. |
| C. Custance. When will he be at home? |
| Sym Sure. His heart is here e'en now, |
| His body cometh after. |
| C. Custance. I would see that fain. |
| Sym Sure. As fast as wind and sail can carry it amain. |
| But what two men are yond coming hitherward? |
| C. Custance. Now I shrew their best Christmas cheeks both togetherward. |
| |
| |
SCENE III |
Christian Custance. Sym Suresby. Ralph Roister. Mathew Merygreeke. Trupenie. |
| |
| C. Custance. What mean these lewd fellows thus to trouble me still? |
40 | Sym Suresby here perchance shall thereof deem some ill. |
| And shall suspect in me some point of naughtiness, |
| And they come hitherward. |
| Sym Sure. What is their business? |
| C. Custance. I have nought to them; nor they to me in sadness. |
| Sym Sure. Let us hearken them; somewhat there is, I fear it. |
| R. Roister. I will speak out aloud best, that she may hear it. |
| M. Mery. Nay, alas, ye may so fear her out of her wit. |
| R. Roister. By the cross of my sword, I will hurt her no whit. |
| M. Mery. Will ye do no harm indeed? shall I trust your word? |
| R. Roister. By Roister Doister's faith, I will speak but in borde. |
50 | Sym Sure. Let us hearken them; somewhat there is, I fear it. |
| R. Roister. I will speak out aloud, I care not who hear it: |
| Sirs, see that my harness, my target, and my shield, |
| Be made as bright now, as when I was last in field, |
| As white as I should to war again to-morrow: |
| For sick shall I be, but I work some folk sorrow. |
| Therefore see that all shine as bright as Saint George, |
| Or as doth a key newly come from the smith's forge, |
| I would have my sword and harness to shine so bright, |
| That I might therewith dim mine enemies' sight, |
60 | I would have it cast beams as fast, I tell you plain, |
| As doth the glittering grass after a shower of rain. |
| And see that in case I should need to come to arming, |
| All things may be ready at a minute's warning, |
| For such chance may chance in an hour, do ye hear? |
| M. Mery. As perchance shall not chance again in seven year. |
| R. Roister. Now draw we near to her, and hear what shall be said. |
| M. Mery. But I would not have you make her too much afraid. |
| R. Roister. Well found, sweet wife (I trust), for all this your sour look. |
| C. Custance. Wife, why call ye me wife? |
| Sym Sure. Wife? this gear goeth acrook. |
70 | M. Mery. Nay, mistress Custance, I warrant you, our letter |
| Is not as we read e'en now, but much better, |
| And where ye half stomached this gentleman afore, |
| For this same letter, ye will love him now therefore, |
| Nor it is not this letter, though ye were a queen, |
| That should break marriage between you twain, I ween. |
| C. Custance. I did not refuse him for the letter's sake. |
| R. Roister. Then ye are content me for your husband to take? |
| C. Custance. You for my husband to take? nothing less truly. |
| R. Roister. Yea, say so, sweet spouse, afore strangers hardly. |
8o | M. Mery. And though I have here his letter of love with me, |
| Yet his ring and tokens he sent, keep safe with ye. |
| C. Custance. A mischief take his tokens, and him and thee too. |
| But what prate I with fools? have I naught else to do? |
| Come in with me, Sym Suresby, to take some repast. |
| Sym Sure. I must ere I drink, by your leave, go in all haste, |
| To a place or two, with earnest letters of his. |
| C. Custance. Then come drink here with me. |
| Sym Sure. I thank you! |
| C. Custance. Do not miss. |
| You shall have a token to your master with you. |
| Sym Sure. No tokens this time, gramercies, God be with you. [Exeat. |
90 | C. Custance. Surely this fellow misdeemeth some ill in me. |
| Which thing but God help, will go near to spill me. |
| R. Roister. Yea, farewell, fellow, and tell thy master Goodluck |
| That he cometh too late of this blossom to pluck. |
| Let him keep him there still, or at leastwise make no haste, |
| As for his labour hither he shall spend in waste. |
| His betters be in place now. |
| M. Mery. As long as it will hold. |
| C. Custance. I will be even with thee, thou beast, thou mayst be bold. |
| R. Roister. Will ye have us then? |
| C. Custance. I will never have thee. |
| R. Roister. Then will I have you? |
| C. Custance. No, the devil shall have thee. |
100 | I have gotten this hour more shame and harm by thee, |
| Than all thy life days thou canst do me honesty. |
| M. Mery. Why now may ye see what it cometh to, in the end, |
| To make a deadly foe of your most loving friend: |
| And i-wis this letter, if ye would hear it now |
| C. Custance. I will hear none of it. |
| M. Mery. In faith, would ravish you. |
| C. Custance. He hath stained my name for ever, this is clear. |
| R. Roister. I can make all as well in an hour. |
| M. Mery. As ten year. |
| How say ye, will ye have him? |
| C. Custance. No. |
| M. Mery. Will ye take him? |
| C. Custance. I defy him. |
| M. Mery. At my word? |
| C. Custance. A shame take him. |
110 | Waste no more wind, for it will never be. |
| M. Mery. This one fault with twain shall be mended, ye shall see. |
| Gentle mistress Custance, now, good mistress Custance! |
| Honey mistress Custance, now, sweet mistress Custance! |
| Golden mistress Custance, now, white mistress Custance! |
| Silken mistress Custance, now, fair mistress Custance! |
| C. Custance. Faith, rather than to marry with such a doltish lout, |
| I would match myself with a beggar, out of doubt. |
| M. Mery. Then I can say no more; to speed we are not like, |
119 | Except ye rap out a rag of your rhetoric. |
| C. Custance. Speak not of winning me: for it shall never be so. |
| R. Roister. Yes, dame, I will have you, whether ye will or no. |
| I command you to love me, wherefore should ye not? |
| Is not my love to you chafing and burning hot? |
| M. Mery. To her, that is well said. |
| R. Roister. Shall I so break my brain |
| To dote upon you, and ye not love us again? |
| M. Mery. Well said yet. |
| C. Custance. Go to, you goose. |
| R. Roister. I say, Kit Custance, |
| In case ye will not haze, well, better yes perchance. |
| C. Custance. Avaunt, lozel! pick thee hence. |
| M. Mery. Well, sir, ye perceive, |
| For all your kind offer, she will not you receive. |
130 | R. Roister. Then a straw for her, and a straw for her again, |
| She shall not be my wife, would she never so fain; |
| No, and though she would be at ten thousand pound cost. |
| M. Mery. Lo, dame, ye may see what an husband ye have lost. |
| C. Custance. Yea, no force, a jewel much better lost than found. |
| M. Mery. Ah, ye will not believe how this doth my heart wound. |
| How should a marriage between you be toward, |
| If both parties draw back, and become so froward? |
| R. Roister. Nay, dame, I will fire thee out of thy house, |
| And destroy thee and all thine, and that by and by. |
140 | M. Mery. Nay, for the passion of God, sir, do not so. |
| R. Roister. Yes, except she will say yea to that she said no. |
| C. Custance. And what, be there no officers, trow we, in town |
| To check idle loiterers, bragging up and down? |
| Where be they, by whom vacabunds should be represt? |
| That poor silly widows might live in peace and rest. |
| Shall I never rid thee out of my company? |
| I will call for help: what ho, come forth Trupenie! |
Enter Trupenie. |
| Trupenie. Anon. What is your will, mistress? did ye call me? |
| C. Custance. Yea; go run apace, and as fast as may be, |
150 | Pray Tristram Trustie, my most assured friend, |
| To be here by and by, that he may me defend. |
| Trupenie. That message so quickly shall be done, by God's grace, |
| That at my return ye shall say, I went apace. [Exeat. |
| C. Custance. Then shall we see, I trow, whether ye shall do me harm. |
| R. Roister. Yes, in faith, Kit, I shall thee and thine so charm, |
| That all women incarnate by thee may beware. |
| C. Custance. Nay, as for charming me, come hither if thou dare, |
| I shall clout thee till thou stink, both thee and thy train, |
| And coil thee mine own hands, and send thee home again. |
160 | R. Roister. Yea, sayest thou me that, dame? dost thou me threaten? |
| Go we, I still see whether I shall be beaten. |
| M. Mery. Nay, for the paishe of God, let me now treat peace, |
| For bloodshed will there be in case this strife increase. |
| Ah, good dame Custance, take better way with you. |
| C. Custance. Let him do his worst. |
| M. Mery. Yield in time. |
| R. Roister. Come hence, thou. [Exeant Roister et Mery. |
| |
| |
SCENE IV |
Christian Custance. Annot Alyface. Tibet T.
M. Mumblecrust. |
| |
| C. Custance. So, sirrah, if I should not with him take this way, |
| I should not be rid of him, I think, till doom's day. |
| I will call forth my folks, that without any mocks, |
| If he come again we may give him raps and knocks. |
170 | Madge Mumblecrust, come forth, and Tibet Talkapace. |
| Yea, and come forth too, mistress Annot Alyface. |
| An. Alyface. I come. |
| Tibet. And I am here. |
| M. Mumble. And I am here too, at length. |
| C. Custance. Like warriors, if need be, ye must show your strength. |
| The man that this day hath thus beguiled you. |
| Is Ralph Roister Doister, whom ye know well inowe, |
| The most lout and dastard that ever on ground trod. |
| Tib. Talk. I see all folk mock him when he goeth abroad. |
| C. Custance. What, pretty maid? will ye talk when I speak? |
| Tib. Talk. No, forsooth, good mistress. |
179 | C. Custance. Will ye my tale break? |
| He threateneth to come hither with all his force to fight, |
| I charge you, if he come, on him with all your might. |
| M. Mumble. I with my distaff will reach him one rap. |
| Tib. Talk. And I with my new broom will sweep him one swap, |
| And then with our great club I will reach him one rap. |
| An. Alyface. And I with our skimmer will fling him one flap. |
| Tib. Talk. Then Trupenie's firefork will him shrewdly fray, |
| And you with the spit may drive him quite away. |
| C. Custance. Go, make all ready, that it may be even so. |
| Tib. Talk. For my part I shrew them that last about it go. [Exeant. |
| |
| |
SCENE V |
Christian Custance. Trupenie. Tristram Trustie. |
| |
180 | C. Custance. Trupenie did promise me to run a great pace, |
| My friend Tristram Trustie to fet into this place. |
| Indeed he dwelleth hence a good start, I confess: |
| But yet a quick messenger might twice since, as I guess, |
| Have gone and come again. Ah, yond I spy him now. |
| Trupenie. Ye are a slow goer, sir, I make God avow. |
| My mistress Custance will in me put all the blame, |
| Your legs be longer than mine: come apace for shame. |
| C. Custance. I can thee thank, Trupenie, thou hast done right well. |
| Trupenie. Mistress, since I went no grass hath grown on my heel, |
190 | But master Tristram Trustie here maketh no speed. |
| C. Custance. That he came at all, I thank him in very deed, |
| For now have I need of the help of some wise man. |
| T. Trustie. Then may I be gone again, for none such I [a]m. |
| Trupenie. Ye may be by your going: for no Alderman |
| Can go I dare say a sadder pace than ye can. |
| C. Custance. Trupenie, get thee in, thou shalt among them know, |
| How to use thyself, like a proper man I trow. |
| Trupenie. I go. [Exeant. |
| C. Custance. Now, Tristram Trustie, I thank you right much. |
| For at my first sending to come ye never grutch. |
200 | T. Trustie. Dame Custance, God ye save, and while my life shall last, |
| For my friend Goodluck's sake ye shall not send in wast. |
| C. Custance. He shall give you thanks. |
| T. Trustie. I will do much for his sake. |
| C. Custance. But alack, I fear, great displeasure shall be take. |
| T. Trustie. Wherefore? |
| C. Custance. For a foolish matter. |
| T. Trustie. What is your cause? |
| C. Custance. I am ill accombred with a couple of daws. |
| T. Trustie. Nay, weep not, woman: but tell me what your cause is. |
| As concerning my friend is anything amiss? |
| C. Custance. No, not on my part: but here was Sym Suresby. |
| T. Trustie. He was with me and told me so. |
| C. Custance. And he stood by |
210 | While Ralph Roister Doister with help of Merygreeke, |
| For promise of marriage did unto me seek. |
| T. Trustie. And had ye made any promise before them twain? |
| C. Custance. No, I had rather be torn in pieces and slain, |
| No man hath my faith and troth, but Gawyn Goodluck, |
| And that before Suresby did I say, and there stuck, |
| But of certain letters there were such words spoken. |
| T. Trustie. He told me that too. |
| C. Custance. And of a ring and token. |
| That Suresby I spied did more than half suspect, |
| That I my faith to Gawyn Goodluck did reject. |
220 | T. Trustie. But there was no such matter, dame Custance, indeed? |
| C. Custance. If ever my head thought it, God send me ill speed. |
| Wherefore, I beseech you, with me to be a witness, |
| That in all my life I never intended thing less, |
| And what a brainsick fool Ralph Roister Doister is, |
| Yourself know well enough. |
| T. Trustie. Ye say full true, i-wis. |
| C. Custance. Because to be his wife I ne grant nor apply, |
| Hither will he come, he sweareth, by and by, |
| To kill both me and mine, and beat down my house flat. |
| Therefore I pray your aid. |
| T. Trustie. I warrant you that. |
230 | C. Custance. Have I so many years lived a sober life, |
| And showed myself honest, maid, widow, and wife, |
| And now to be abused in such a vile sort? |
| Ye see how poor widows live all void of comfort. |
| T. Trustie. I warrant him do you no harm nor wrong at all. |
| C. Custance. No, but Mathew Merygreeke doth me most appall, |
| That he would join himself with such a wretched lout. |
| T. Trustie. He doth it for a jest, I know him out of doubt, |
| And here cometh Merygreeke. |
| C. Custance. Then shall we hear his mind. |
| |
| |
SCENE VI |
Merygreeke. Christian Custance. Trist. Trustie. |
| |
| M. Mery. Custance and Trustie both, I do you here well find. |
| C. Custance. Ah, Mathew Merygreeke, ye have used me well. |
241 | M. Mery. Now for altogether ye must your answer tell. |
| Will ye have this man, woman? or els will ye not? |
| Else will he come never boar so brim nor toast so hot. |
| Tris. and Cus. But why join ye with him? |
| T. Trustie. For mirth? |
| C. Custance. Or else in sadness? |
| M. Mery. The more fond of you both hardly that matter guess. |
| T. Trustie. Lo, how say ye, dame? |
| M. Mery. Why do ye think, dame Custance, |
| That in this wooing I have meant ought but pastance? |
| C. Custance. Much things ye spake, I wot, to maintain his dotage. |
| M. Mery. But well might ye judge I spake it all in mockage. |
250 | For why? Is Roister Doister a fit husband for you? |
| T. Trustie. I daresay ye never thought it. |
| M. Mery. No, to God I vow. |
| And did not I know afore of the insurance |
| Between Gawyn Goodluck and Christian Custance? |
| And did not I for the nonce, by my conveyance, |
| Read his letter in a wrong sense for dalliance? |
| That if you could have take it up at the first bound, |
| We should thereat such a sport and pastime have found, |
| That all the whole town should have been the merrier. |
| C. Custance. Ill ache your heads both! I was never wearier, |
260 | Nor never more vexed since the first day I was born. |
| T. Trustie. But very well I wist he here did all in scorn. |
| C. Custance. But I feared thereof to take dishonesty. |
| M. Mery. This should both have made sport and showed your honesty, |
| And Goodluck, I dare swear, your wit therein would low. |
| T. Trustie. Yea, being no worse than we know it to be now. |
| M. Mery. And nothing yet too late; for when I come to him, |
| Hither will he repair with a sheep's look full grim, |
| By plain force and violence to drive you to yield. |
| C. Custance. If ye two bid me, we will with him pitch a field, |
| I and my maids together. |
270 | M. Mery. Let us see, be bold. |
| C. Custance. Ye shall see women's war. |
| T. Trustie. That fight will I behold. |
| M. Mery. If occasion serve, taking his part full brim, |
| I will strike at you, but the rap shall light on him, |
| When we first appear. |
| C. Custance. Then will I run away |
| As though I were afeard. |
| T. Trustie. Do you that part well play |
| And I will sue for peace. |
| M. Mery. And I will set him on. |
| Then will he look as fierce as a Cotsold lion. |
| T. Trustie. But when goest thou for him? |
| M. Mery. That do I very now. |
| C. Custance. Ye shall find us here. |
| M. Mery. Well, God have mercy on you. [Ex. |
280 | T. Trustie. There is no cause of fear; the least boy in the street - |
| C. Custance. Nay, the least girl I have, will make him take his feet. |
| But hark! me think they make preparation. |
| T. Trustie. No force, it will be a good recreation. |
| C. Custance. I will stand within, and step forth speedily, |
| And so make as though I ran away dreadfully. |
| |
| |
SCENE VII |
R. Roister. M. Merygreeke. C. Custance. D. Doughtie. Harpax. Tristram Trustie. |
| |
| R. Roister. Now, sirs, keep your ray, and see your hearts be stout. |
| But where be these caitiffs? methink they dare not rout. |
| How sayest thou, Merygreeke? What doth Kit Custance say? |
| M. Mery. I am loth to tell you. |
| R. Roister. Tush, speak, man: yea or nay? |
| M. Mery. Forsooth, sir, I have spoken for you all that I can. |
291 | But if ye win her, ye must e'en play the man, |
| E'en to fight it out, ye must a man's heart take. |
| R. Roister. Yes, they shall know, and thou knowest I have a stomach. |
| [M. Mery. ] A stomach (quod you), yea, as good as e'er man had. |
| R. Roister. I trow they shall find and feel that I am a lad. |
| M. Mery. By this cross, I have seen you eat your meat as well |
| As any that e'er I have seen of or heard tell. |
| A stomach, quod you? he that will that deny, |
| I know, was never at dinner in your company. |
300 | R. Roister. Nay, the stomach of a man it is that I mean. |
| M. Mery. Nay, the stomach of a horse or a dog, I ween. |
| R. Roister. Nay, a man's stomach with a weapon, mean I. |
| M. Mery. Ten men can scarce match you with a spoon in a pie. |
| R. Roister. Nay, the stomach of a man to try in strife. |
| M. Mery. I never saw your stomach cloyed yet in my life. |
| R. Roister. Tush, I mean in strife or fighting to try. |
| M. Mery. We shall see how ye will strike now, being angry. |
| R. Roister. Have at thy pate then, and save thy head if thou may. |
| M. Mery. Nay, then have at your pate again by this day. |
| R. Roister. Nay, thou mayst not strike at me again in no wise. |
311 | M. Mery. I cannot in fight make to you such warrantise: |
| But as for your foes, here let them the bargain bie. |
| R. Roister. Nay, as for they, shall every mother's child die. |
| And in this my fume a little thing might make me |
| To beat down house and all, and else the devil take me. |
| M. Mery. If I were as ye be, by Gog's dear mother, |
| I would not leave one stone upon another, |
| Though she would redeem it with twenty thousand pounds. |
| R. Roister. It shall be even so, by his lily wounds. |
320 | M. Mery. Be not at one with her upon any amends. |
| R. Roister. No, though she make to me never so many friends. |
| Nor if all the world for her would undertake, |
| No, not God himself neither, shall not her peace make, |
| On, therefore, march forward, soft, stay a while yet. |
| M. Mery. On. |
| R. Roister. Tarry. |
| M. Mery. Forth. |
| R. Roister. Back. |
| M. Mery. On. |
| R. Roister. Soft. Now forward set. |
| C. Custance. What business have we here? Out! alas, alas! |
| R. Roister. Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha! |
| Didst thou see that, Merygreeke, how afraid she was? |
| Didst thou see how she fled apace out of my sight? |
| Ah, good sweet Custance, I pity her by this light. |
330 | M. Mery. That tender heart of yours will mar altogether, |
| Thus will ye be turned with wagging of a feather. |
| R. Roister. On, sirs, keep your ray. |
| M. Mery. On, forth, while this gear is hot. |
| R. Roister. Soft, the arms of Caleys, I have one thing forgot. |
| M. Mery. What lack we now? |
| R. Roister. Retire, or else we be all slain. |
| M. Mery. Back, for the pash of God! back, sirs, back again! |
| What is the great matter? |
| R. Roister. This hasty forthgoing |
| Had almost brought us all to utter undoing, |
| It made me forget a thing most necessary. |
| M. Mery. Well remembered of a captain, by Saint Mary. |
| R. Roister. It is a thing must be had. |
340 | M. Mery. Let us have it then. |
| R. Roister. But I wot not where nor how. |
| M. Mery. Then wot not I when. |
| But what is it? |
| R. Roister. Of a chief thing I am to seek. |
| M. Mery. Tut, so will ye be, when ye have studied a week. |
| But tell me what it is? |
| R. Roister. I lack yet an headpiece. |
| M. Mery. The kitchen collocavit, the best hens to grece, |
| Run, fet it, Dobinet, and come at once withal, |
| And bring with thee my potgun, hanging by the wall. [Exit Dobinet. |
| I have seen your head with it full many a time, |
| Covered as safe as it had been with a skrine: |
350 | And I warrant it save your head from any stroke, |
| Except perchance to be amazed with the smoke: |
| I warrant your head therewith, except for the mist, |
| As safe as if it were fast locked up in a chest: |
| And lo, here our Dobinet cometh with it now. [Re-enter Dobinet. |
| D. Doughtie. It will cover me to the shoulders well enow. |
| M. Mery. Let me see it on. |
| R. Roister. In faith, it doth metely well. |
| M. Mery. There can be no fitter thing. Now ye must us tell |
| What to do. |
| R. Roister. Now forth in ray, sirs, and stop no more. |
| M. Mery. Now, Saint George to borrow, drum dub-a-dub afore. |
| T. Trustie. What mean you to do, sir, commit manslaughter? |
361 | R. Roister. To kill forty such is a matter of laughter. |
| T. Trustie. And who is it, sir, whom ye intend thus to spill? |
| R. Roister. Foolish Custance here forceth me against my will. |
| T. Trustie. And is there no mean your extreme wrath to slake? |
| She shall some amends unto your good maship make. |
| R. Roister. I will none amends. |
| T. Trustie. Is her offence so sore? |
| M. Mery. And he were a lout she could have done no more. |
| She hath called him fool, and dressed him like a fool, |
| Mocked him like a fool, used him like a fool. |
370 | T. Trustie. Well, yet the sheriff, the justice, or constable, |
| Her misdemeanour to punish might be able. |
| R. Roister. No, sir, I mine own self will, in this present cause, |
| Be sheriff, and justice, and whole judge of the laws, |
| This matter to amend, all officers be I shall, |
| Constable, bailiff, sergeant. |
| M. Mery. And hangman and all. |
| T. Trustie. Yet a noble courage, and the heart of a man, |
| Should more honour win by bearing with a woman. |
| Therefore take the law, and let her answer thereto. |
| R. Roister. Merygreeke, the best way were even so to do. |
380 | What honour should it be with a woman to fight? |
| M. Mery. And what then, will ye thus forgo and lese your right? |
| R. Roister. Nay, I will take the law on her withouten grace. |
| T. Trustie. Or if your maship could pardon this one trespace, |
| I pray you forgive her. |
| R. Roister. Hoh! |
| M. Mery. Tush, tush, sir, do not. |
| Be good, master, to her. |
| R. Roister. Hoh! |
| M. Mery. Tush, I say, do not. |
| And what, shall your people here return straight home? |
| T. Trustie. Yea; levy the camp, sirs, and hence again each one. |
| R. Roister. But be still in readiness, if I hap to call, |
| I cannot tell what sudden chance may befall. |
390 | M. Mery. Do not off your harness, sirs, I you advise, |
| At the least for this fortnight in no manner wise, |
| Perchance in an hour when all ye think least, |
| Our master's appetite to fight will be best. |
| But soft, ere ye go, have one at Custance house. |
| R. Roister. Soft, what wilt thou do? |
| M. Mery. Once discharge my harquebouse, |
| And, for my heart's ease, have once more with my potgun. |
| R. Roister. Hold thy hands, else is all our purpose clean fordone. |
| M. Mery. And it cost me my life. |
| R. Roister. I say, thou shalt not. |
| M. Mery. By the matte, but I will. Have once more with hail shot. |
400 | I will have some pennyworth, I will not lese all. |
| |
| |
SCENE VIII |
M. Merygreeke. C. Custance. R. Roister. Tib. Talk. An. Alyface. M. Mumblecrust. Trupenie. Dobinet Doughtie. Harpax. Two drums with their ensigns. |
| |
| C. Custance. What caitiffs are those that so shake my house wall? |
| M. Mery. Ah, sirrah! now Custance, if ye had so much wit, |
| I would see you ask pardon, and yourselves submit. |
| C. Custance. Have I still this ado with a couple of fools? |
| M. Mery. Hear ye what she saith? |
| C. Custance. Maidens come forth with your tools. |
| R. Roister. In a ray. |
| M. Mery. Dubba dub, sirrah. |
| R. Roister. In a ray. |
| They come suddenly on us. |
| M. Mery. Dubbadub. |
| R. Roister. In a ray. |
| That ever I was born, we are taken tardy. |
| M. Mery. Now, sirs, quit ourselves like tall men and hardy. |
410 | C. Custance. On afore, Trupenie; hold thine own, Annot; |
| On toward them, Tibet, for 'scape us they cannot. |
| Come forth, Madge Mumblecrust, to stand fast together.
|
| M. Mery. God send us a fair day. |
| R. Roister. See, they march on hither. |
| Tib. Talk. But, mistress - |
| C. Custance. What sayest you? |
| Tib. Talk. Shall I go fet our goose? |
| C. Custance. What to do? |
| Tib. Talk. To yonder captain I will turn her loose, |
| And she gape and hiss at him, as she doth at me, |
| I durst jeopard my hand she will make him flee. |
| C. Custance. On forward. |
| R. Roister. They come. |
| M. Mery. Stand. |
| R. Roister. Hold. |
| M. Mery. Keep. |
| R. Roister. There. |
| M. Mery. Strike. |
| R. Roister. Take heed. |
| C. Custance. Well said, Trupenie. |
| Trupenie. Ah, whoresons. |
| C. Custance. Well done, indeed. |
| M. Mery. Hold thine own, Harpax; down with them, Dobinet. |
| C. Custance. Now Madge, there Annot: now stick them, Tibet. |
422 | Tib. Talk. All my chief quarrel is to this same little knave, |
| That beguiled me last day, nothing shall him save. |
| D. Doughtie. Down with this little quean, that hath at me such spite; |
| Save you from her, master, it is a very sprite. |
| C. Custance. I myself will mounsire grand captain undertake. |
| R. Roister. They win ground. |
| M. Mery. Save yourself, sir, for God's sake. |
| R. Roister. Out, alas! I am slain, help! |
| M. Mery. Save yourself. |
| R. Roister. Alas! |
| M. Mery. Nay, then, have at you, mistress. |
| R. Roister. Thou hittest me, alas! |
| M. Mery. I will strike at Custance here. |
| R. Roister. Thou hittest me. |
430 | M. Mery. So I will. |
| Nay, mistress Custance. |
| R. Roister. Alas! thou hittest me still. |
| Hold. |
| M. Mery. Save yourself, sir. |
| R. Roister. Help! out, alas! I am slain. |
| M. Mery. Truce, hold your hands; truce for a pissing while or twain: |
| Nay, how say you, Custance, for saving of your life, |
| Will ye yield and grant to be this gentman's wife? |
| C. Custance. Ye told me he loved me; call ye this love? |
| M. Mery. He loved a while even like a turtle-dove. |
| C. Custance. Gay love, God save it: so soon hot, so soon cold. |
| M. Mery. I am sorry for you: he could love you yet, so he could. |
| R. Roister. Nay, by Cock's precious, she shall be none of mine. |
441 | M. Mery. Why so? |
| R. Roister. Come away, by the matte she is mankine. |
| I durst adventure the loss of my right hand, |
| If she did not slee her other husband: |
| And see if she prepare not again to fight. |
| M. Mery. What then? Saint George to borrow, our ladies' knight. |
| R. Roister. Slee else whom she will, by gog she shall not slee me. |
| M. Mery. How then? |
| R. Roister. Rather than to be slain, I will flee. |
| C. Custance. To it again, my knightesses; down with them all. |
| R. Roister. Away, away, away! she will else kill us all. |
450 | M. Mery. Nay, stick to it, like an hardy man and a tall. |
| R. Roister. Oh bones, thou hittest me! Away, or else die we shall. |
| M. Mery. Away, for the pashe of our sweet Lord Jesus Christ. |
| C. Custance. Away, lout and lubber, or I shall be thy priest. [Exeant om. |
| So this field is ours, we have driven them all away. |
| Tib. Talk. Thanks to God, mistress, ye have had a fair day. |
| C. Custance. Well, now go ye in, and make yourself some good cheer. |
| Omnes pariter. We go. |
| T. Trustie. Ah, sir, what a field we have had here! |
| C. Custance. Friend Tristram, I pray you be a witness with me. |
| T. Trustie. Dame Custance, I shall depose for your honesty, |
460 | And now fare ye well, except something else ye would. |
| C. Custance. Not now, but when I need to send I will be bold. |
| I thank you for these pains. [Exeat.] And now I will get me in. |
| Now Roister Doister will no more wooing begin. [Exeat. |
| |
| |
ACT V |
SCENE I |
Gawyn Goodluck. Sym Suresby. |
| |
| G. Good. Sym Suresby, my trusty man, now advise thee well, |
| And see that no false surmises thou me tell, |
| Was there such ado about Custance of a truth? |
| Sym Sure. To report that I heard and saw, to me is ruth, |
| But both my duty and name and property |
| Warneth me to you to show fidelity. |
| It may be well enough, and I wish it so to be, |
| She may herself discharge and try her honesty. |
| Yet their claim to her methought was very large, |
10 | For with letters, rings and tokens, they did her charge. |
| Which when I heard and saw I would none to you bring. |
| G. Good. No, by Saint Marie, I allow thee in that thing. |
| Ah, sirrah, now I see truth in the proverb old, |
| All things that shineth is not by and by pure gold. |
| If any do live a woman of honesty, |
| I would have sworn Christian Custance had been she. |
| Sym Sure. Sir, though I to you be a servant true and just, |
| Yet do not ye therefore your faithful spouse mistrust. |
| But examine the matter, and if ye shall it find |
20 | To be all well, be not ye for my words unkind. |
| G. Good. I shall do that is right, and as I see cause why. |
| But here cometh Custance forth, we shall know by and by. |
| |
| |
SCENE II |
C. Custance. Gawyn Goodluck. Sym Suresby. |
| |
| C. Custance. I come forth to see and hearken for news good, |
| For about this hour is the time of likelihood, |
| That Gawyn Goodluck by the sayings of Suresby |
| Would be at home, and lo, yound I see him, I. |
| What! Gawyn Goodluck, the only hope of my life! |
| Welcome home, and kiss me your true espoused wife. |
| G. Good. Nay, soft, dame Custance; I must first, by your licence, |
30 | See whether all things be clear in your conscience. |
| I hear of your doings to me very strange. |
| C. Custance. What fear ye, that my faith towards you should change? |
| G. Good. I must needs mistrust ye be elsewhere entangled. |
| For I hear that certain men with you have wrangled |
| About the promise of marriage by you to them made. |
| C. Custance. Could any man's report your mind therein persuade? |
| G. Good. Well, ye must therein declare yourself to stand clear, |
| Else I and you, dame Custance, may not join this year. |
| C. Custance. Then would I were dead, and fair laid in my grave. |
40 | Ah, Suresby, is this the honesty that ye have? |
| To hurt me with your report, not knowing the thing. |
| Sym Sure. If ye be honest my words can hurt you nothing. |
| But what I heard and saw, I might not but report. |
| C. Custance. Ah, Lord, help poor widows, destitute of comfort! |
| Truly, most dear spouse, nought was done but for pastance. |
| G. Good. But such kind of sporting is homely dalliance. |
| C. Custance. If ye knew the truth, ye would take all in good part. |
| G. Good. By your leave, I am not half well skilled in that art. |
| C. Custance. It was none but Roister Doister, that foolish mome. |
| G. Good. Yea, Custance, better (they say) a bad 'scuse than none. |
51 | C. Custance. Why, Tristram Trustie, sir, your true and faithful friend, |
| Was privy both to the beginning and the end. |
| Let him be the judge, and for me testify. |
| G. Good. I will the more credit that he shall verify, |
| And because I will the truth know e'en as it is, |
| I will to him myself, and know all without miss. |
| Come on, Sym Suresby, that before my friend thou may |
| Avouch the same words, which thou didst to me say. [Exeant. |
| |
| |
SCENE III |
Christian Custance. |
| |
| C. Custance. O Lord! how necessary it is now of days, |
60 | That each body live uprightly all manner ways; |
| For let never so little a gap be open, |
| And be sure of this, the worst shall be spoken. |
| How innocent stand I in this for deed or thought! |
| And yet see what mistrust towards me it hath wrought. |
| But thou, Lord, knowest all folks' thoughts and eke intents, |
| And thou art the deliverer of all innocents. |
| Thou didst help the advoutress, that she might be amended, |
| Much more then help, Lord, that never ill intended. |
| Thou didst help Susanna, wrongfully accused, |
70 | And no less dost thou see, Lord, how I am now abused. |
| Thou didst help Hester, when she should have died, |
| Help also, good Lord, that my truth may be tried. |
| Yet if Gawyn Goodluck with Tristram Trustie speak, |
| I trust of ill report the force shall be but weak. |
| And lo, yond they come, sadly talking together, |
| I will abide, and not shrink for their coming hither. |
| |
| |
SCENE IV |
Gawyn Goodluck. Tristram Trustie. Sym Suresby. He entereth singing. |
| |
| G. Good. And was it none other than ye to me report? |
| Tristram. No, and here were ye wished to have seen the sport. |
| G. Good. Would I had, rather than half of that in my purse. |
80 | Sym Sure. And I do much rejoice the matter was no worse, |
| And like as to open it I was to you faithful, |
| So of dame Custance honest truth I am joyful. |
| For God forfend that I should hurt her by false report. |
| G. Good. Well, I will no longer hold her in discomfort. |
| C. Custance. Now come they hitherward, I trust all shall be well. |
| G. Good. Sweet Custance, neither heart can think nor tongue tell, |
| How much I joy in your constant fidelity. |
| Come now, kiss me, the pearl of perfect honesty. |
| C. Custance. God let me no longer to continue in life, |
90 | Than I shall towards you continue a true wife. |
| G. Good. Well, now to make you for this some part of amends, |
| I shall desire first you, and then such of our friends |
| As shall to you seem best, to sup at home with me, |
| Where at your fought field we shall laugh and merry be. |
| Sym Sure. And mistress, I beseech you, take with me no grief, |
| I did a true man's part, not wishing you reprief. |
| C. Custance. Though hasty reports through surmises growing |
| May of poor innocents be utter overthrowing, |
| Yet because to thy master thou hast a true heart, |
| And I know mine own truth, I forgive thee for my part. |
101 | G. Good. Go we all to my house, and of this gear no more. |
| Go, prepare all things, Sym Suresby; hence, run afore. |
| Sym Sure. I go. [Ex. |
| G. Good. But who cometh yond, M. Merygreeke? |
| C. Custance. Roister Doister's champion, I shrew his best cheek. |
| T. Trustie. Roister Doister self, your wooer, is with him too. |
| Surely some thing there is with us they have to do. |
| |
| |
SCENE V |
M. Merygreeke. Ralph Roister. Gawyn Goodluck. Tristram Trustie. C. Custance. |
| |
| M. Mery. Yond I see Gawyn Goodluck, to whom lieth my message; |
| I will first salute him after his long voyage, |
| And then make all thing well concerning your behalf. |
| R. Roister. Yea, for the pash of God. |
110 | M. Mery. Hence out of sight, ye calf, |
| Till I have spoke with them, and then I will you fet. |
| R. Roister. In God's name. [Exit R. Roister. |
| M. Mery. What, master Gawyn Goodluck, well met! |
| And from your long voyage I bid you right welcome home. |
| G. Good. I thank you. |
| M. Mery. I come to you from an honest mome. |
| G. Good. Who is that? |
| M. Mery. Roister Doister, that doughty kite. |
| C. Custance. Fie! I can scarcely abide ye should his name recite. |
| M. Mery. Ye must take him to favour, and pardon all past, |
| He heareth of your return, and is full ill aghast. |
| G. Good. I am right well content he have with us some cheer. |
120 | C. Custance. Fie upon him, beast! then will not I be there. |
| G. Good. Why, Custance, do ye hate him more than ye love me? |
| C. Custance. But for your mind, sir, where he were would I not be. |
| T. Trustie. He would make us all laugh. |
| M. Mery. Ye ne'er had better sport. |
| G. Good. I pray you, sweet Custance, let him to us resort. |
| C. Custance. To your will I assent. |
| M. Mery. Why, such a fool it is, |
| As no man for good pastime would forgo or miss. |
| G. Good. Fet him to go with us. |
| M. Mery. He will be a glad man. [Ex. |
| T. Trustie. We must to make us mirth, maintain him all we can. |
| And lo, yond he cometh, and Merygreeke with him. |
| C. Custance. At his first entrance ye shall see I will him trim. |
131 | But first let us hearken the gentleman's wise talk. |
| T. Trustie. I pray you, mark, if ever ye saw crane so stalk. |
| |
| |
SCENE VI |
R. Roister. M. Merygreeke. C. Custance. G. Goodluck. T. Trustie. D. Doughtie. Harpax. |
| |
| R. Roister. May I then be bold? |
| M. Mery. I warrant you on my word, |
| They say they shall be sick, but ye be at their board. |
| R. Roister. They were not angry, then? |
| M. Mery. Yes, at first, and made strange, |
| But when I said your anger to favour should change, |
| And therewith had commended you accordingly, |
| They were all in love with your maship by and by, |
| And cried you mercy that they had done you wrong. |
140 | R. Roister. For why, no man, woman, nor child can hate me long. |
| M. Mery. We fear (quod they) he will be avenged one day, |
| Then for a penny give all our lives we may. |
| R. Roister. Said they so indeed? |
| M. Mery. Did they? yea, even with one voice. |
| He will forgive all (quod I). Oh, how they did rejoice. |
| R. Roister. Ha, ha, ha. |
| M. Mery. Go fet him (say they) while he is in good mood, |
| For have his anger who lust, we will not, by the Rood. |
| R. Roister. I pray God that it be all true, that thou hast me told |
| And that she fight no more. |
| M. Mery. I warrant you, be bold. |
| To them, and salute them. |
| R. Roister. Sirs, I greet you all well. |
| Omnes. Your mastership is welcome. |
150 | C. Custance. Saving my quarrel. |
| For sure I will put you up into the Exchequer. |
| M. Mery. Why so? better nay: wherefore? |
| C. Custance. For an usurer. |
| R. Roister. I am no usurer, good mistress, by his arms. |
| M. Mery. When took he gain of money to any man's harms? |
| C. Custance. Yes, a foul usurer he is, ye shall see else. |
| R. Roister. Didst not thou promise she would pick no mo quarrels? |
| C. Custance. He will lend no blows, but he have in recompense |
| Fifteen for one, which is too much of conscience. |
| R. Roister. Ah, dame, by the ancient law of arms, a man |
160 | Hath no honour to foil his hands on a woman. |
| C. Custance. And where other usurers take their gains yearly, |
| This man is angry but he have his by and by. |
| G. Good. Sir, do not for her sake bear me your displeasure. |
| M. Mery. Well, he shall with you talk thereof more at leisure. |
| Upon your good usage, he will now shake your hand. |
| R. Roister. And much heartily welcome from a strange land. |
| M. Mery. Be not afeard, Gawyn, to let him shake your fist. |
| G. Good. Oh, the most honest gentleman that e'er I wist. |
| I beseech your maship to take pain to sup with us. |
170 | M. Mery. He shall not say you nay, and I too, by Jesus, |
| Because ye shall be friends, and let all quarrels pass. |
| R. Roister. I will be as good friends with them as-ere I was. |
| M. Mery. Then let me fet your quire that we may have a song. |
| R. Roister. Go. [Exit M. Mery. |
| G. Good. I have heard no melody all this year long. |
| |
Re-enter M. Mery. |
| |
| M. Mery. Come on, sirs, quickly. |
| R. Roister. Sing on, sirs, for my friends' sake. |
| D. Dough. Call ye these your friends? |
| R. Roister. Sing on, and no mo words make. [Here they sing. |
| G. Good. The Lord preserve our most noble Queen of renown, |
| And her virtues reward with the heavenly crown. |
| C. Custance. The Lord strengthen her most excellent Majesty, |
180 | Long to reign over us in all prosperity. |
| T. Trustie. That her godly proceedings the faith to defend, |
| He may 'stablish and maintain through to the end. |
| M. Mery. God grant her, as she doth, the Gospel to protect, |
| Learning and virtue to advance, and vice to correct. |
| R. Roister. God grant her loving subjects both the mind and grace, |
| Her most godly proceedings worthily to embrace. |
| Harpax. Her highness' most worthy counsellors, God prosper |
| With honour and love of all men to minister. |
| Omnes. God grant the nobility her to serve and love, |
190 | With all the whole commonty as doth them behove. |
| |
Amen. |
| |
| |
Certain Songs to be Sung by Those Which Shall Use This Comedy or Interlude |
| |
| The Second Song. |
| Whoso to marry a minion wife, |
| Hath had good chance and hap, |
| Must love her and cherish her all his life, |
| And dandle her in his lap. |
| |
| If she will fare well, if she will go gay, |
| A good husband ever still, |
| Whatever she lust to do, or to say, |
| Must let her have her own will. |
| |
| About what affairs soever he go, |
10 | He must show her all his mind. |
| None of his counsel she may be kept fro, |
| Else is he a man unkind. |
| |
| |
| The Fourth Song. |
| I mun be married a Sunday, |
| I mun be married a Sunday, |
| Whosoever shall come that way, |
| I mun be married a Sunday. |
| |
| Roister Doister is my name, |
| Roister Doister is my name, |
| A lusty brute I am the same, |
| I mun be married a Sunday. |
| |
| Christian Custance have I found, |
10 | Christian Custance have I found, |
| A widow worth a thousand pound, |
| I mun be married a Sunday. |
| |
| Custance is as sweet as honey, |
| Custance is as sweet as honey, |
| I her lamb and she my coney, |
| I mun be married a Sunday. |
| |
| When we shall make our wedding feast, |
| When we shall make our wedding feast, |
| There shall be cheer for man and beast, |
20 | I mun be married a Sunday. |
| I mun be married a Sunday, etc. |
| |
| |
| The Psalmody. |
| Placebo dilexi, |
| Master Roister Doister will straight go home and die, |
| Our Lord Jesus Christ his soul have mercy upon: |
| Thus you see to-day a man, to-morrow John. |
| Yet saving for a woman's extreme cruelty, |
| He might have lived yet a month or two or three, |
| But in spite of Custance which hath him wearied, |
| His maship shall be worshipfully buried. |
| And while some piece of his soul is yet him within, |
| Some part of his funerals let us here begin. |
10 | Dirige. He will go darkling to his grave. |
| Neque lux, neque crux, nisi solum clink, |
| Never gentman so went toward heaven, I think. |
| |
| Yet, sirs, as ye will the bliss of heaven win, |
| When he cometh to the grave lay him softly in, |
| And all men take heed by this one gentleman, |
| How you set your love upon an unkind woman: |
| For these women be all such mad peevish elves, |
| They will not be won except it please themselves, |
| But in faith, Custance, if ever ye come in hell, |
| Master Roister Doister shall serve you as well. 20 |
| Good night, Roger old knave; farewell, Roger old knave. |
| Good night, Roger old knave, knave, knap. |
| Nequando. Audivi vocem. Requiem ceternam. |
| |
| |
The peal of bells rung by the parish clerk and roister doister's four men |
| The first Bell a Triple. When died he? When died he? |
| The second. We have him, we have him. |
| The third. Roister Doister, Roister Doister. |
| The fourth Bell. He cometh, he cometh. |
| The great Bell. Our own, our own. |