Chapter M: MUMBL. God 'ield you, sir; chad not so much, i-chotte not when

Ne'er since chwas born, chwine,[73] of such a gay gentleman.

R. ROISTER. I will kiss you too, maiden, for the good will I bear ye.

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?

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. MUMBL. I will not stick for a koss with such a man as you.

TIB. TALK. They that lust!--I will again to my sewing now.

AN. ALYFACE.[74] Tidings, ho! tidings! dame Custance greeteth you well.

R. ROISTER. Whom? me?

AN. ALYFACE. You, sir? No, sir: 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. You must come in to her, out of all doubts.

TIB. TALK. And my work not half-done? a mischief on all louts!
[_Ex. amb._

R. ROISTER. Ah, good sweet nurse!

M. MUMBL. Ah, good sweet gentleman!

R. ROISTER. Who?[75]

M. MUMBL. Nay, I cannot tell, sir, but what thing would you?

R. ROISTER. How doth sweet Custance, my heart of gold, tell me how?

M. MUMBL. She doth very well, sir, and command[s] me to you.

R. ROISTER. To me?

M. MUMBL. Yea, to you, sir.

R. ROISTER. To me? nurse, tell me plain,
To me?

M. MUMBL. Yea.

R. ROISTER. That word maketh me alive again.

M. MUMBL. She command[ed] me to one last day, whoe'er it was.

R. ROISTER. That was e'en to me and none other, by the mass.

M. MUMBL. 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. MUMBL. E'en so, sir?

R. ROISTER. Bid her sue to me for marriage.

M. MUMBL. E'en so, sir?

R. ROISTER. And surely for thy sake she shall speed.

M. MUMBL. E'en so, sir?

R. ROISTER. I shall be contented to take her.

M. MUMBL. E'en so, sir?

R. ROISTER. But at thy request and for thy sake.

M. MUMBL. E'en so, sir?

R. ROISTER. And, come, hark in thine ear what to say.

M. MUMBL. E'en so, sir?
[_Here let him tell her a great long tale in her ear._

ACTUS I., SCÆNA IV.

MATTHEW MERRYGREEK, DOBINET DOUGHTY, HARPAX, RALPH ROISTER, MARGERY MUMBLECRUST.

M. MERRY. Come on, sirs, apace, and 'quit yourselves like men.
Your pains shall be rewarded.

D. DOUGH. But, I wot not when.

M. MERRY. 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. MERRY. Harpax, look that thou do well too, and thy fellow.

HARPAX. I warrant, if he will mine example follow.

M. MERRY. Court'sy, whoresons: duck you and crouch at every word.

D. DOUGH. Yes, whether our master speak earnest or bord.[76]

M. MERRY. For this lieth upon his preferment indeed.

D. DOUGH. Oft is he a wooer, but never doth he speed.

M. MERRY. But with whom is he now so sadly rounding[77] yond?

D. DOUGH. With _Nobs nicebectur miserere_[78] fond.

M. MERRY. 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. MERRY. Well, mock[79] much of her, and keep her well, I 'vise ye.
I will take no charge of such a fair piece keeping.

M. MUMBL. What aileth this fellow? he driveth me to weeping.

M. MERRY. What, weep on the wedding-day? be merry, woman:
Though I say it, ye have chose a good gentleman.

R. ROISTER. Kock's nowns,[80] what meanest thou, man? tut, a whistle.

M. MERRY. Ah, sir, be good to her; she is but a gristle:
Ah, sweet lamb and coney!

R. ROISTER. Tut, thou art deceived.

M. MERRY. Weep no more, lady, ye shall be well received.
Up with some merry noise,[81] sirs, to bring home the bride!

R. ROISTER. Gog's arms, knave, art thou mad? I tell thee thou art wide.

M. MERRY. Then, ye intend by night to have her home brought.

R. ROISTER. I tell thee, no.

M. MERRY. How then?

R. ROISTER. 'Tis neither meant ne thought.

M. MERRY. What shall we then do with her?

R. ROISTER. Ah, foolish harebrain,
This is not she.

M. MERRY. No, is [not]. Why, then, unsaid again!
And what young girl is this with your maship so bold?

R. ROISTER. A girl?

M. MERRY. Yea, I daresay, scarce yet threescore year old.

R. ROISTER. This same is the fair widow's nurse, of whom ye wot.

M. MERRY. Is she but a nurse of a house? hence home, old trot!
Hence at once!

R. ROISTER. No, no.

M. MERRY. What, an' please your maship,
A nurse talk so homely with one of your worship?

R. ROISTER. I will have it so; it is my pleasure and will.

M. MERRY. Then I am content. Nurse, come again, tarry still.

R. ROISTER. What, she will help forward this my suit, for her part.

M. MERRY. Then is't mine own pigsny, and blessing on my heart!

R. ROISTER. This is our best friend, man.

M. MERRY. Then teach her what to say.

M. MUMBL. I am taught already.

M. MERRY. Then go, make no delay.

R. ROISTER. Yet hark, one word in thine ear.

M. MERRY. Back, sirs, from his tail!

R. ROISTER. Back, villains; will ye be privy of my counsel?

M. MERRY. 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. MUMBL. A peck! _Nomine Patris_, have ye so much spare?

R. ROISTER. Yea, and a cart-load thereto, or else were it bare;
Besides other moveables, household stuff and land.

M. MUMBL. Have ye lands too?

R. ROISTER. An hundred marks.

M. MERRY. Yea, a thousand.

M. MUMBL. And have ye cattle too? and sheep too?

R. ROISTER. Yea, a few.

M. MERRY. 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. MUMBL. And how many years old be you?

R. ROISTER. Forty at least.

M. MERRY. Yea, and thrice forty to them.

R. ROISTER. Nay, thou dost jest.
I am not so old: thou misreckonest my years.

M. MERRY. I know that; but my mind was on bullocks and steers.

M. MUMBL. 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. MUMBL. Yet let me somewhat know.

M. MERRY. This is he, understand
That killed the blue spider in Blanchepowder land.

M. MUMBL. Yea, Jesus, William, zee, law! did he zo, law?

M. MERRY. Yea, and the last elephant that ever he saw,
As the beast passed by, he start out of a busk,[82]
And e'en with pure strength of arms plucked out his great tusk.

M. MUMBL. Jesus, _Nomine Patris_, what a thing was that!

R. ROISTER. Yea, but, Merrygreek, one thing thou hast forgot.

M. MERRY. What?

R. ROISTER. Of th' other elephant.

M. MERRY. O, him that fled away?

R. ROISTER. Yea.

M. MERRY. 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. MUMBL. A sore man, by zembletee.[83]

M. MERRY. Why, he wrong a club
Once in a fray out of the hand of Belzebub.

R. ROISTER. And how when Mumfision--

M. MERRY. O, your costreling
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. MUMBL. O Lord! my heart quaketh for fear, he is so sore.

R. ROISTER. Thou makest her too much afeard, Merrygreek; no more.
This tale would fear my sweetheart Custance right evil.

M. MERRY. Nay, let her take him, nurse, and fear not the devil.
But thus is our song dasht--sirs, ye may home again.
[_To the music._

R. ROISTER. No, shall they not. I charge you all here to remain:
The villain slaves!--a whole day, ere they can be found!

M. MERRY. 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 be fed.
By your mastership's licence--

R. ROISTER. What is that? a mote!

M. MERRY. 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. MERRY. No, sir, it was a hair that was fall from your head.

R. ROISTER. My men come, when it please them.

M. MERRY. By your leave--

R. ROISTER. What is that?

M. MERRY. Your gown was foul spotted with the foot[84] of a gnat.

R. ROISTER. Their master to offend they are nothing afeard.
What now?

M. MERRY. A lousy hair from your mastership's beard.
And sir, for nurse's sake, pardon this one offence.

OMNES FAMULÆ. We shall not after this show the like negligence.

R. ROISTER. I pardon you this once; and, come, sing ne'er the worse.

M. MERRY. How like you the goodness of this gentleman, nurse?

M. MUMBL. God save his mastership, that can so his men forgive!
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. MUMBL. Nay, I will by mine own self foot the song perchance.

R. ROISTER. Go it, sirs, lustily. [_Retires to write a letter._

M. MUMBL. Pipe up a merry note.
Let me hear it played, I will foot it for a groat.
[_Cantent._[85]

R. ROISTER. Now, nurse, take this same letter here to thy mistress;
And as my trust is in thee, ply my business.

M. MUMBL. It shall be done.

M. MERRY. Who made it?

R. ROISTER. I wrote it each whit.

M. MERRY. Then needs it no mending?

R. ROISTER. No, no.

M. MERRY. No, I know your wit.

R. ROISTER. I warrant it well.

M. MUMBL. It shall be delivered;
But, if ye speed, shall I be considered?

M. MERRY. Whough! dost thou doubt of that?

M. MUMBL. What shall I have?

M. MERRY. An hundred times more than thou canst devise to crave.

M. MUMBL. Shall I have some new gear, for my old is all spent?

M. MERRY. The worst kitchen wench shall go in ladies' raiment.

M. MUMBL. Yea?

M. MERRY. And the worst drudge in the house shall go better
Than your mistress doth now.

M. MUMBL. 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. MERRY. But are you sure that your letter is well enough?

R. ROISTER. I wrote it myself.

M. MERRY. Then sing we to dinner.
[_Here they sing, and go out singing._

ACTUS I., SCÆNA 5.

CHRISTIAN CUSTANCE, MARGERY MUMBLECRUST.

C. CUSTANCE. Who took thee this letter, Margery Mumblecrust?

M. MUMBL. 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. MUMBL. 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,[86] Gawin Goodluck, whom when him please,
God luckily send home to both our hearts' ease!

M. MUMBL. A jolly 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. MUMBL. He promised to give you a whole peck of gold.

C. CUSTANCE. Perchance, [t'will] lack of a pint, when it shall be
all told.

M. MUMBL. 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.[87]
But no more of this fond talk now; let us go in,
And see thou no more move me folly to begin;
Nor bring me no mo letters for no man's pleasure,
But thou know from whom.