Chapter IX: Prologue (2)

MOTHER MIDNIGHT. What mak'st thou here this twatter light? I think thou'rt in a dream; I think the fool haunts thee.

WILL CRICKET. Zounds, fool in your face! Fool? O monstrous intitulation. Fool? O, disgrace to my person. Zounds, fool not me, for I cannot brook such a cold rasher, I can tell you. Give me but such another word, and I'll be thy tooth-drawer--even of thy butter-tooth, thou toothless trot, thou!

MOTHER MIDNIGHT. Nay, William, pray ye, be not angry; you must bear with old folks, they be old and testy, hot and hasty. Set not your wit against mine, William; for I thought you no harm, by my troth.

WILL CRICKET. Well, your good words have something laid my choler. But, granam, shall I be so bold to come to your house now and then to keep Peg company?

MOTHER MIDNIGHT. Ay, and beshrew thy good heart, and thou dost not. Come, and we'll have a piece of a barley bag-pudding or something, and thou shalt be very heartily welcome, that thou shalt, and Peg shall bid thee welcome too. Pray ye, maid, bid him welcome, and make much of him, for, by my vay, he's a good proper springal.[146]

PEG. Granam, if you did but see him dance, 'twould do your heart good. Lord! 'twould make anybody love him, to see how finely he'll foot it.

MOTHER MIDNIGHT. William, prythee, go home to my house with us, and take a cup of our beer, and learn to know the way again another time.

WILL CRICKET. Come on, granam. I'll man you home, i' faith. Come, Peg. [_Exeunt_.

_Enter_ GRIPE, _old_ PLOD-ALL _and his son_ PETER, _and_
CHURMS _the lawyer_.

PLOD-ALL. Come hither, Peter; hold up your head. Where's your cap and leg, sir boy, ha?

PETER PLOD-ALL. By your leave, Master Gripe.

GRIPE. Welcome, Peter; give me thy hand: thou'rt welcome. By'r Lady, this is a good, proper, tall fellow, neighbour; call you him a boy?

PLOD-ALL. A good, pretty, square springal,[147] sir.

GRIPE. Peter, you have seen my daughter, I am sure. How do you like her? What says she to you?

PETER PLOD-ALL. Faith, I like her well, and I have broken my mind to her, and she would say neither ay nor no. But, thank God, sir, we parted good friends, for she let me kiss her hand, and bad, _Farewell, Peter_, and therefore I think I am like enough to speed. How think you, Master Churms?

CHURMS. Marry, I think so too, for she did show no token of any dislike of your motion, did she?

PETER PLOD-ALL. No, not a whit, sir.

CHURMS. Why then, I warrant ye, for we hold in our law that, _idem est non apparere et non esse_.

GRIPE. Master Churms, I pray you, do so much as call my daughter hither. I will make her sure here to Peter Plod-all, and I'll desire you to be a witness.

CHURMS. With all my heart, sir. [_Exit_ CHURMS.

GRIPE. Before God, neighbour, this same Master Churms is a very good lawyer, for, I warrant, you cannot speak anything, but he has law for it _ad unguem_.

PLOD-ALL. Marry, even the more joy on him, and he's one that I am very much beholding to: but here comes your daughter.

_Enter_ CHURMS, LELIA, _and_ NURSE.

LELIA. Father, did you send for me?

GRIPE. Ay, wench, I did. Come hither, Lelia; give me thy hand. Master Churms, I pray you, bear witness, I here give Lelia to Peter Plod-all. [_She plucks away her hand_.] How now?

NURSE. She'll none, she thanks you, sir.

GRIPE. Will she none? Why, how now, I say? What, you puling, peevish thing, you untoward baggage, will you not be ruled by your father? Have I taken care to bring you up to this, and will you do as you list? Away, I say; hang, starve, beg; begone, pack, I say; out of my sight! Thou never gettest pennyworth of my goods for this. Think on't, I do not use to jest. Begone, I say; I will not hear thee speak.

[_Exeunt_ LELIA _and_ NURSE.

CHURMS. I pray you, sir, patient yourself; she's young.

GRIPE. I hold my life, this beggarly scholar hankers about her still, makes her so untoward. But I'll home; I'll set her a harder task. I'll keep her in, and look to her a little better than I ha' done. I'll make her have little mind of gadding, I warrant her. Come, neighbour, send your son to my house, for he's welcome thither, and shall be welcome; and I'll make Lelia bid him welcome too, ere I ha' done with her. Come, Peter, follow us. [_Exeunt all but_ CHURMS.

CHURNS. Why, this is excellent: better and better still. This is beyond expectation; why, now this gear begins to work. But, beshrew my heart, I was afraid that Lelia would have yielded. When I saw her father take her by the hand and call me for a witness, my heart began to quake; but, to say the truth, she had little reason to take a cullian lug-loaf, milksop slave, when she may have a lawyer, a gentleman that stands upon his reputation in the country, one whose diminutive defect of law may compare with his little learning. Well, I see that Churms must be the man must carry Lelia, when all's done.

_Enter_ ROBIN GOODFELLOW.

ROBIN GOODFELLOW. How now, Master Churms? What news abroad? Methinks you look very spruce; y'are very frolic now a-late.

CHURMS. What, fellow Robin? How goes the squares with you? Y'are waxen very proud a-late; you will not know your own friends.

ROBIN GOODFELLOW. Faith, I even came to seek you, to bestow a quart of wine of you.

CHURMS. That's strange; you were never wont to be so liberal.

ROBIN GOODFELLOW. Tush, man; one good turn asks another; clear gains, man, clear gains! Peter Plod-all shall pay for all. I have gulled him once, and I'll come over him again and again, I warrant ye.

CHURMS. Faith, Lelia has e'en given him the doff[148] here, and has made her father almost stark-mad.

ROBIN GOODFELLOW. O, all the better; then I shall be sure of more of his custom. But what success have you in your suit with her?

CHURMS. Faith, all hitherto goes well. I have made the motion to her, but as yet we are grown to no conclusion. But I am in very good hope.

ROBIN GOODFELLOW. But do you think you shall get her father's goodwill?

CHURMS. Tut, if I get the wench, I care not for that; that will come afterward; and I'll be sure of something in the meantime, for I have outlawed a great number of his debtors, and I'll gather up what money I can amongst them, and Gripe shall never know of it neither.

ROBIN GOODFELLOW. Ay, and of those that are scarce able to pay, take the one half, and forgive them the other, rather than sit out at all.

CHURMS. Tush! let me alone for that; but, sirrah, I have brought the scholar into a fool's paradise. Why, he has made me his spokesman to Mistress Lelia, and, God's my judge, I never so much as name him to her.

ROBIN GOODFELLOW. O, by the mass, well-remembered. I'll tell you what I mean to do: I'll attire myself fit for the same purpose, Like to some hellish hag or damned fiend, And meet with Sophos wandering in the woods. O, I shall fray him terribly.

CHURMS. I would thou couldst scare him out of his wits, then should I ha' the wench, cocksure. I doubt nobody but him.

ROBIN GOODFELLOW. Well, let's go drink together, And then I'll go put on my devilish robes-- I mean, my Christmas calf-skin suit, And then walk to the woods. O, I'll terrify him, I warrant ye.

[_Exeunt_.

_A Wood_.

_Enter_ SOPHOS _solus_.

SOPHOS. Will heavens still smile at Sophos' miseries, And give no end to my incessant moans? These cypress shades are witness of my woes; The senseless trees do grieve at my laments; The leafy branches drop sweet Myrrha's tears: For love did scorn me in my mother's womb, And sullen Saturn, pregnant at my birth, With all the fatal stars conspir'd in one To frame a hapless constellation, Presaging Sophos' luckless destiny. Here, here doth Sophos turn Ixion's restless wheel, And here lies wrapp'd in labyrinths of love-- Of his sweet Lelia's love, whose sole idea still Prolongs the hapless date of Sophos' hopeless life. Ah! said I life? a life far worse than death-- Than death? ay, than ten thousand deaths. I daily die, in that I live love's thrall; They die thrice happy that once die for all. Here will I stay my weary wand'ring steps, And lay me down upon this solid earth, [_He lies down_. The mother of despair and baleful thoughts. Ay, this befits my melancholy moods. Now, now, methinks I hear the pretty birds With warbling tunes record Fair Lelia's name, Whose absence makes warm blood drop from my heart, And forceth wat'ry tears from these my weeping eyes. Methinks I hear the silver-sounding stream With gentle murmur summon me to sleep, Singing a sweet, melodious lullaby. Here will I take a nap, and drown my hapless hopes In the ocean seas of _Never like to speed_. [_He falls in a slumber, and music sounds_.

_Enter_ SYLVANUS.

SYLVANUS. Thus hath Sylvanus left his leafy bowers, Drawn by the sound of Echo's sad reports, That with shrill notes and high resounding voice Doth pierce the very caverns of the earth, And rings through hills and dales the sad laments Of virtue's loss and Sophos' mournful plaints. Now, Morpheus, rouse thee from thy sable den, Charm all his senses with a slumb'ring trance; Whilst old Sylvanus send[s] a lovely train Of satyrs, dryades, and water[149] nymphs Out of their bowers to tune their silver strings, And with sweet-sounding music sing Some pleasing madrigals and roundelays, To comfort Sophos in his deep distress. [_Exit_ SYLVANUS.

_Enter the Nymphs and Satyrs singing_.

THE SONG.

1.

_Satyrs, sing, let sorrow keep her cell,
Let warbling Echoes ring,
And sounding music yell[150]
Through hills, through dales, sad grief and care to kill
In him long since, alas! hath griev'd his fill_.

2.

_Sleep no more, but wake and live content,
Thy grief the Nymphs deplore:
The Sylvan gods lament
To hear, to see thy moan, thy loss, thy love,
Thy plaints to tears the flinty rocks do move_.

3.

_Grieve not, then; the queen of love is mild,
She sweetly smiles on men,
When reason's most beguil'd;
Her looks, her smiles are kind, are sweet, are fair:
Awake therefore, and sleep not still in care_.

4.

_Love intends to free thee from annoy,
His nymphs Sylvanus sends
To bid thee live in joy,
In hope, in joy, sweet love, delight's embrace:
Fair love herself will yield thee so much grace_.

[_Exeunt the Nymphs and Satyrs_.

SOPHOS. What do I hear? what harmony is this, With silver sound that glutteth Sophos' ears. And drives sad passions from his heavy heart, Presaging some good future hap shall fall, After these blust'ring blasts of discontent? Thanks, gentle Nymphs, and Satyrs too, adieu; That thus compassionate a loyal lover's woe, When heav'n sits smiling at his dire mishaps.

_Enter_ FORTUNATUS.

FORTUNATUS. With weary steps I trace these desert groves, And search to find out Sophos' secret walks, My truest vowed friend and Lelia's dearest love.

SOPHOS. What voice is this sounds Lelia's sacred name? [_He riseth_. Is it some satyr that hath view'd her late, And's grown enamour'd of her gorgeous hue?

FORTUNATUS. No satyr, Sophos; but thy ancient friend, Whose dearest blood doth rest at thy command: Hath sorrow lately blear'd thy wat'ry eyes, That thou forgett'st the lasting league of love, Long since was vowed betwixt thyself and me? Look on me, man; I am thy friend.

SOPHOS. O, now I know thee, now thou nam'st my friend; I have no friend, to whom I dare Unload the burden of my grief, But only Fortunatus, he's my second self: _Mi Fortunate, ter fortunaté venis_.[151]

FORTUNATUS. How fares my friend? methinks you look not well; Your eyes are sunk, your cheeks look pale and wan: What means this alteration?

SOPHOS. My mind, sweet friend, is like a mastless ship, That's hurl'd and toss'd upon the surging seas By Boreas' bitter blast and Ae'lus' whistling winds, On rocks and sands far from the wished port, Whereon my silly ship desires to land: Fair Lelia's love, that is the wished haven, Wherein my wand'ring mind would take repose; For want of which my restless thoughts are toss'd, For want of which all Sophos' joys are lost.

FORTUNATUS. Doth Sophos love my sister Lelia?

SOPHOS. She, she it is, whose love I wish to gain, Nor need I wish, nor do I love in vain: My love she doth repay with equal meed-- 'Tis strange, you'll say, that Sophos should not speed.

FORTUNATUS. Your love repaid with equal meed, And yet you languish still in love? 'tis strange. From whence proceeds your grief, Unfold unto your friend: a friend may yield relief.

SOPHOS. My want of wealth is author of my grief; Your father says, my state is too-too low: I am no hobby bred; I may not soar so high As Lelia's love, The lofty eagle will not catch at flies. When I with Icarus would soar against the sun, He is the only fiery Phaeton Denies my course, and sears my waxen wings, When as I soar aloft. He mews fair Lelia up from Sophos' sight, That not so much as paper pleads remorse. Thrice three times Sol hath slept in Thetis' lap, Since these mine eyes beheld sweet Lelia's face: What greater grief, what other hell than this, To be denied to come where my beloved is?

FORTUNATUS. Do you alone love Lelia? Have you no rivals with you in your love?

SOPHOS. Yes, only one; and him your father backs: 'Tis Peter Plod-all, rich Plod-all's son and heir, One whose base, rustic, rude desert Unworthy far to win so fair a prize; Yet means your father for to make a match For golden lucre with this Coridon, And scorns at virtue's lore: hence grows my grief.

FORTUNATUS. If it be true I hear, there is one Churms beside Makes suit to win my sister to his bride.

SOPHOS. That cannot be; Churms is my vowed friend, Whose tongue relates the tenor of my love To Lelia's ears: I have no other means.

FORTUNATUS. Well, trust him not: the tiger hides his claws, When oft he doth pretend[152] the greatest guiles. But stay: here comes Lelia's nurse.

_Enter_ NURSE.

SOPHOS. Nurse, what news? How fares my love?

NURSE. How fares she, quotha? marry, she may fare how she will for you. Neither come to her nor send to her of a whole fortnight! Now I swear to you by my maidenhead, if my husband should have served me so when he came a wooing me, I would never have looked on him with a good face, as long as I had lived. But he was as kind a wretch as ever laid lips of a woman: he would a'come through the windows, or doors, or walls, or anything, but he would have come to me. Marry, after we had been married a while, his kindness began to slack, for I'll tell you what he did: he made me believe he would go to Green-goose fair; and I'll be sworn he took his legs, and ran clean away. And I am afraid you'll prove e'en such another kind piece to my mistress; for she sits at home in a corner weeping for you: and, I'll be sworn, she's ready to die upward for you. And her father o' the other side, he yawls at her, and jawls at her; and she leads such a life for you, it passes: and you'll neither come to her, nor send to her. Why, she thinks you have forgotten her.

SOPHOS. Nay, then let heav'ns in sorrow end my days, And fatal fortune never cease to frown: And heav'n and earth, and all conspire to pull me down, If black oblivion seize upon my heart, Once to estrange my thoughts from Lelia's love.

FORTUNATUS. Why, nurse, I am sure that Lelia hears From Sophos once a day at least by Churms The lawyer, who is his only friend.

NURSE. What, young master! God bless mine eyesight. Now, by my maidenhead, y'are welcome home: I am sure my mistress will be glad to see you. But what said you of Master Churms?

FORTUNATUS. Marry, I say he's a well-wisher to my sister Lelia, And a secret friend to Sophos.

NURSE. Marry, the devil he is! trust him, and hang him. Why, he cannot speak a good word on him to my old master; and he does so ruffle before my mistress with his barbarian eloquence,[153] and strut before her in a pair of Polonian legs, as if he were a gentleman-usher to the great Turk or to the devil of Dowgate. And if my mistress would be ruled by him, Sophos might go snick-up: but he has such a butter-milk face, that she'll never have him.

SOPHOS. Can falsehood lurk in those enticing looks! And deep dissemblance lie, where truth appears?

FORTUNATUS. Injurious villain, to betray his friend!

NURSE. Sir, do you know the gentleman?

FORTUNATUS. Faith, not well.

NURSE. Why, sir, he looks like a red herring at a nobleman's table on Easter-day, and he speaks nothing but almond-butter and sugarcandy.

FORTUNATUS. That's excellent.

SOPHOS. This world's the chaos of confusion; No world at all, but mass of open wrongs, Wherein a man, as in a map, may see The highroad way from woe to misery.

FORTUNATUS. Content yourself, and leave these passions: Now do I sound the depth of all their drifts, The devil's[154] device and Churms his knavery; On whom this heart hath vow'd to be reveng'd. I'll scatter them: the plot's already in my head. Nurse, hie thee home, commend me to my sister; Bid her this night send for Master Churms: To him she must recount her many griefs, Exclaim against her father's hard constraint, and so Cunningly temporise with this cunning Catso, That he may think she loves him as her life; Bid her tell him that, if by any means He can convey her forth her father's gate Unto a secret friend of hers, The way to whom lies by this forest-side; That none but he shall have her to his bride. For her departure let her 'ppoint the time To-morrow night, when Vesper 'gins to shine; Here will I be when Lelia comes this way, Accompani'd with her gentleman-usher, Whose am'rous thoughts do dream on nought but love: And if this bastinado hold, I'll make Him leave his wench with Sophos for a pawn. Let me alone to use him in his kind; This is the trap which for him I have laid, Thus craft by cunning once shall be betray'd: And, for the devil,[155] I will conjure him. Good nurse, begone; bid her not fail: And for a token bear to her this ring, Which well she knows; for, when I saw her last, It was her favour, and she gave it me.

SOPHOS. And bear her this from me, And with this ring bid her receive my heart-- My heart! alas, my heart I cannot give; How should I give her that which is her own?

NURSE. And your heart be hers, her heart is yours, and so change is no robbery. Well, I'll give her your tokens, and tell her what ye say.

FORTUNATUS. Do, good nurse; but in any case let not my father know that I am here, until we have effected all our purposes.

NURSE. I'll warrant you, I will not play with you, as Master Churms does with Sophos; I would ha' my ears cut from my head first. [_Exit_ NURSE.

FORTUNATUS. Come, Sophos, cheer up yourself, man; Let hope expel these melancholy dumps. Meanwhile, let's in, expecting How the events of this device will fall, Until to-morrow at th'appointed time, When we'll expect the coming of your love. What, man, I'll work it through the fire, But you shall have her.

SOPHOS. And I will study to deserve this love.

[_Exeunt_.

_Enter_ WILLIAM CRICKET _solus_.

WILL CRICKET. Look on me, and look of Master Churms, a good, proper man. Marry, Master Churms has something a better pair of legs indeed, but for a sweet face, a fine beard, comely corpse, and a carousing codpiece.

All England, if it can,
Show me such a man,
To win a wench, by Gis,
To clip, to coll, to kiss,
As William Cricket is.

Why, look you now: if I had been such a great, long, large, lobcocked, loselled lurden, as Master Churms is, I'll warrant you, I should never have got Peg as long as I had lived, for, do you mark, a wench will never love a man that has all his substance in his legs. But stay: here comes my landlord; I must go salute him.

_Enter old_ PLOD-ALL _and his son_ PETER.

PLOD-ALL. Come hither, Peter. When didst thou see Robin Goodfellow? He's the man must do the fact.

PETER PLOD-ALL. Faith, father, I see him not this two days, but I'll seek him out, for I know he'll do the deed, and she were twenty Leilas. For, father, he's a very cunning man for give him but ten groats, and he'll give me a powder that will make Lelia come to bed to me, and when I have her there, I'll use her well enough.

PLOD-ALL. Will he so? Marry, I will give him vorty shillings, if he can do it.

PETER PLOD-ALL. Nay, he'll do more than that too, for he'll make himself like a devil, and fray the scholar that hankers about her out on's wits.

PLOD-ALL. Marry, Jesus bless us! will he so? Marry, thou shalt have vorty shillings to give him, and thy mother shall bestow a hard cheese on him beside.

WILL CRICKET. Landlord, a pox on you, this good morn!

PLOD-ALL. How now, fool? what, dost curse me?

WILL CRICKET. How now, fool! How now, caterpillar? It's a sign of death, when such vermin creep hedges so early in the morning.

PETER PLOD-ALL. Sirrah foul manners, do you know to whom you speak?

WILL CRICKET. Indeed, Peter, I must confess I want some of your wooing manners, or else I might have turned my fair bushtail to you instead of your father, and have given you the ill salutation this morning.

PETER PLOD-ALL. Let him alone, Peter; I'll temper him well enough. Sirrah, I hear say, you must be married shortly. I'll make you pay a sweet fine for your house for this. Ha, sirrah! am not I your landlord?

WILL CRICKET. Yes, for fault of a better; but you get neither sweet fine nor sour fine of me.

PLOD-ALL. My masters, I pray you bear witness I do discharge him then.

WILL CRICKET. My masters, I pray you bear witness my landlord has given me a general discharge. I'll be married presently. My fine's paid; I have a discharge for it. [_He offers to go away_.

PLOD-ALL. Nay, prythee, stay.

WILL CRICKET. No, I'll not stay. I'll go call the clerk. I'll be cried out upon i' the church presently. What, ho! what, clerk, I say? where are you?

_Enter_ CLERK.

CLERK. Who calls me? what would you with me?

WILL CRICKET. Marry, sir, I would have you to make proclamation that, if any manner of man, o' the town or the country, can lay any claim to Peg Pudding, let him bring word to the crier, or else William Cricket will wipe his nose of her.

CLERK. You mean, you would be asked i' the church?

WILL CRICKET. Ay, that's it. A bots on't, I cannot hit of these marrying terms yet. And I'll desire my landlord here and his son to be at the celebration of my marriage too. I' faith, Peter, you shall cram your guts full of cheesecakes and custards there; and, sirrah clerk, if thou wilt say amen stoutly, i' faith, my powder-beef-slave, I'll have a rump of beef for thee, shall make thy mouth stand o' the tother side.

CLERK. When would you have it done?

WILL CRICKET. Marry, e'en as soon as may be. Let me see; I will be asked i' the church of Sunday morning prayer, and again at evening prayer, and the next holyday that comes, I will be asked i' the forenoon and married i' the afternoon, for, do you mark, I am none of these sneaking fellows that will stand thrumming of caps and studying upon a matter, as long as Hunks with the great head has been about to show his little wit in the second part of his paltry poetry,[156] but if I begin with wooing, I'll end with wedding, and therefore, good clerk, let me have it done with all speed; for, I promise you, I am very sharp-set.

CLERK. Faith, you may be asked i' the church on Sunday at morning prayer, but Sir John cannot 'tend[157] to do it at evening prayer, for there comes a company of players to the town on Sunday i' the afternoon, and Sir John is so good a fellow that I know he'll scarce leave their company to say evening prayer; for, though I say it, he's a very painful man, and takes so great delight in that faculty, that he'll take as great pain about building of a stage or so, as the basest fellow among them.

WILL CRICKET. Nay, if he have so lawful an excuse, I am content to defer it one day the longer; and, landlord, I hope you and your son Peter will make bold with us, and trouble us.

PLOD-ALL. Nay, William, we would be loth to trouble you; but you shall have our company there.

WILL CRICKET. Faith, you shall be very heartily welcome, and we will have good merry rogues there, that will make you laugh till you burst.

PETER PLOD-ALL. Why, William, what company do you mean to have?

WILL CRICKET. Marry, first and foremost, there will be an honest Dutch cobbler, that will sing _I will noe meare to Burgaine[158] go_, the best that ever you heard.

PETER PLOD-ALL. What, must a cobbler be your chief guest? Why, he's a base fellow.

WILL CRICKET. A base fellow! You may be ashamed to say so, for he's an honest fellow and a good fellow; and he begins to carry the very badge of good-fellowship upon his nose, that I do not doubt but in time he will prove as good a cup-companion as Robin Goodfellow himself. Ay, and he's a tall fellow, and a man of his hands too, for, I'll tell you what--tie him to the bull-ring, and for a bag-pudding, a custard, a cheesecake, a hog's cheek, or a calf's head, turn any man i' the town to him, and if he do not prove himself as tall a man as he, let blind Hugh bewitch him, and turn his body into a barrel of strong ale, and let his nose be the spigot, his mouth the faucet, and his tongue a plug for the bunghole. And then there will be Robin Goodfellow, as good a drunken rogue as lives, and Tom Shoemaker; and I hope you will not deny that he's an honest man, for he was constable o' the town; and a number of other honest rascals which, though they are grown bankrouts, and live at the reversion of other men's tables, yet, thanks be to God, they have a penny amongst them at all times at their need.

PETER PLOD-ALL. Nay, if Robin Goodfellow be there, you shall be sure to have our company; for he's one that we hear very well of, and my son here has some occasion to use him, and therefore, if we may know when 'tis, we'll make bold to trouble you.

WILL CRICKET. Yes, I'll send you word.

PLOD-ALL. Why then farewell, till we hear from you.

[_Exeunt_ PLOD-ALL _and his son_.

WILL CRICKET. Well, clerk, you'll see this matter bravely performed; let it be done as it should be.

CLERK. I'll warrant ye; fear it not.

WILL CRICKET. Why, then, go you to Sir John, and I'll to my wench, and bid her give her maidenhead warning to prepare itself; for the destruction of it is at hand. [_Exeunt_.

_Enter_ LELIA _sola_.

LELIA. How love and fortune both with eager mood, Like greedy hounds, do hunt my tired heart, Rous'd forth the thickets of my wonted joys! And Cupid winds his shrill-note buglehorn, For joy my silly heart so near is spent: Desire, that eager cur, pursues the chase, And fortune rides amain unto the fall; Now sorrow sings, and mourning bears a part, Playing harsh descant on my yielding heart.

_Enter_ NURSE.

Nurse, what news?

NURSE. Faith, a whole sackful of news. You love Sophos, and Sophos loves you, and Peter Plod-all loves you, and you love not him, and you love not Master Churms, and he loves you; and so, here's love and no love, and I love and I love not, and I cannot tell what; but of all and of all Master Churms must be the man you must love.

LELIA. Nay, first I'll mount me on the winged wind, And fly for succour to the furthest Ind. Must I love Master Churms?

NURSE. Faith, you must, and you must not.

LELIA. As how, I pray thee?

NURSE. Marry, I have commendations to you.

LELIA. From whom?

NURSE. From your brother Fortunatus.

LELIA. My brother Fortunatus!

NURSE. No, from Sophos.

LELIA. From my love?

NURSE. No, from neither.

LELIA. From neither?

NURSE. Yes, from both.

LELIA. Prythee, leave thy foolery, and let me know thy news.

NURSE. Your brother Fortunatus and your love to-morrow night will meet you by the forest-side, there to confer about I know not what: but it is like that Sophos will make you of his privy council, before you come again.

LELIA. Is Fortunatus then returned from the wars?

NURSE. He is with Sophos every day: but in any case you must not let your father know; for he hath sworn he will not be descried, until he have effected your desires; for he swaggers and swears out of all cry, that he will venture all,

Both fame and blood, and limb and life,
But Lelia shall be Sophos' wedded wife.

LELIA. Alas! nurse, my father's jealous brain Doth scarce allow me once a month to go Beyond the compass of his watchful eyes, Nor once afford me any conference With any man, except with Master Churms, Whose crafty brain beguiles my father so, That he reposeth trust in none but him: And though he seeks for favour at my hands, He takes his mark amiss, and shoots awry; For I had rather see the devil himself Than Churms the lawyer. Therefore How I should meet them by the forest-side I cannot possibly devise.

NURSE. And Master Churms must be the man must work the means: you must this night send for him; make him believe you love him mightily; tell him you have a secret friend dwells far away beyond the forest, to whom, if he can secretly convey you from your father, tell him, you will love him better than ever God loved him: and when you come to the place appointed, let them alone to discharge the knave of clubs: and that you must not fail, here receive this ring, which Fortunatus sent you for a token, that this is the plot that you must prosecute; and this from Sophos, as his true love's pledge.

LELIA. This ring my brother sent, I know right well: But this my true love's pledge I more esteem Than all the golden mines the solid earth contains-- And see, in happy time, here comes Master Churms.

_Enter_ CHURMS.

Now love and fortune both conspire, And sort their drifts to compass my desire. Master Churms, y'are well met; I am glad to see you.

CHURMS. And I as glad to see fair Lelia, As ever Paris was to see his dear; For whom so many Trojans' blood was spilt: Nor think I would do less than spend my dearest blood To gain fair Lelia's love, although by loss of life.

NURSE. 'Faith, mistress, he speaks like a gentleman. Let me persuade you; be not hard-hearted. Sophos? Why, what's he? If he had loved you but half so well, he would ha' come through stone walls, but he would have come to you ere this.

LELIA. I must confess, I once lov'd Sophos well; But now I cannot love him, whom All the world knows to be a dissembler.

CHURMS. Ere I would wrong my love with one day's absence, I would pass the boiling Hellespont, As once Leander did for Hero's love, Or undertake a greater task than that, Ere I would be disloyal to my love. And if that Lelia give her free consent, That both our loves may sympathise in one, My hand, my heart, my love, my life, and all, Shall ever tend on Lelia's fair command.

LELIA. Master Churms, Methinks 'tis strange you should make such a motion: Say, I should yield and grant you love, When most you did expect a sunshine day, My father's will would mar your hop'd-for hay; And when you thought to reap the fruits of love, His hard constraint would blast it in the bloom: For he so doats on Peter Plod-all's pelf, That none but he forsooth must be the man: And I will rather match myself Unto a groom of Pluto's grisly den, Than unto such a silly golden ass.

CHURMS. Bravely resolved, i' faith!

LELIA. But, to be short-- I have a secret friend, that dwells from hence Some two days' journey, that's the most; And if you can, as well I know you may, Convey me thither secretly-- For company I desire no other than your own-- Here take my hand: That once perform'd, my heart is next.

CHURMS. If on th'adventure all the dangers lay, That Europe or the western world affords; Were it to combat Cerberus himself, Or scale the brazen walls of Pluto's court, When as there is so fair a prize propos'd; If I shrink back, or leave it unperform'd, Let the world canonise me for a coward: Appoint the time, and leave the rest to me.

LELIA. When night's black mantle overspreads the sky, And day's bright lamp is drenched in the west-- To-morrow night I think the fittest time, That silent shade[s] may give us[159] safe convoy Unto our wished hopes, unseen of living eye.

CHURMS. And at that time I will not fail In that, or ought may make for our avail.

NURSE. But what if Sophos should meet you by the forest-side, and encounter you with his single rapier?

CHURMS. Sophos? a hop of my thumb! A wretch, a wretch! Should Sophos meet Us there accompani'd with some champion With whom 'twere any credit to encounter, Were he as stout as Hercules himself, Then would I buckle with them hand to hand, And bandy blows, as thick as hailstones fall, And carry Lelia away in spite of all their force. What? love will make cowards fight-- Much more a man of my resolution.

LELIA. And on your resolution I'll depend. Until to-morrow at th'appointed time, When I look for you: till when I leave you, And go make preparation for our journey.

CHURMS. Farewell, fair love, until we meet again. Why so: did I not tell you she would be glad to run away with me at length? Why, this falls out, e'en as a man would say, thus I would have it. But now I must go cast about for some money too. Let me see, I have outlawed three or four of Gripe's debtors; and I have the bonds in mine own hands. The sum that is due to him is some two or three hundred pounds. Well, I'll to them; if I can get but one half, I'll deliver them their bonds, and leave the other half to their own consciences: and so I shall be sure to get money to bear charges. When all fails, well fare a good wit! But soft; no more of that. Here comes Master Gripe.

_Enter_ GRIPE.

GRIPE. What, Master Churms? what, all alone? How fares your body?

CHURMS. Faith, sir, reasonable well: I am e'en walking here to take the fresh air.

GRIPE. 'Tis very wholesome, this fair weather. But, Master Churms, how like you my daughter? Can you do any good on her? Will she be ruled yet? How stands she affected to Peter Plod-all?

CHURMS. O, very well, sir; I have made her very conformable. O, let me alone to persuade a woman. I hope you shall see her married within this week at most,--(_Aside_) I mean to myself.

GRIPE. Master Churms, I am so exceedingly beholding to you, I cannot tell how I shall requite your kindness. But, i' the meantime, here's a brace of angels for you to drink for your pains. This news hath e'en lightened my heart. O sir, my neighbour Plod-all is very wealthy. Come, Master Churms, you shall go home with me: we'll have good cheer, and be merry for this to-night, i' faith.

CHURMS. Well, let them laugh that win. [_Aside. Exeunt_.

_Enter_ PEG _and her_ GRANAM.

PEG. Granam, give me but two crowns of red gold, and I'll give you twopence of white silver, if Robin the devil be not a water-witch.

MOTHER MIDNIGHT. Marry, Jesus bless us! why, prythee?

PEG. Marry, I'll tell you why. Upon the morrow after the blessed new year, I came trip, trip, trip, over the market hill, holding up my petticoat to the calves of my legs, to show my fine coloured stockings, and how finely I could foot it in a pair of new corked shoes I had bought; and there I spied this Monsieur Muffe lie gaping up into the skies, to know how many maids would be with child in the town all the year after. O, 'tis a base vexation slave! How the country talks of the large-ribbed varlet!

MOTHER MIDNIGHT. Marry, out upon him. What a Friday-faced slave it is: I think in my conscience, his face never keeps holiday.

PEG. Why, his face can never be at quiet. He has such a choleric nose, I durst ha' sworn by my maidenhead (God forgive me, that I should take such an oath), that if William had had such a nose, I would never ha' loved him.

_Enter_ WILLIAM CRICKET.

WILL CRICKET. What a talking is here of noses? Come, Peg, we are toward marriage; let us talk of that may do us good. Granam, what will you give us toward housekeeping?

MOTHER MIDNIGHT. Why, William, we are talking of Robin Goodfellow. What think you of him?

WILL CRICKET. Marry, I say, he looks like a tankard-bearer that dwells in Petticoat Lane at the sign of the Mermaid; and I swear by the blood of my codpiece, and I were a woman, I would lug off his lave[160] ears, or run him to death with a spit. And, for his face, I think 'tis pity there is not a law made, that it should be felony to name it in any other places than in bawdy-houses. But, Granam, what will you give us?

MOTHER MIDNIGHT. Marry, I will give Peg a pot and a pan, two platters, a dish and a spoon, a dog and a cat. I trow, she'll prove a good huswife, and love her husband well too.

WILL CRICKET. If she love me, I'll love her. I' faith, my sweet honeycomb, I'll love thee _A per se A_. We must be asked in church next Sunday; and we'll be married presently.

PEG. I' faith, William, we'll have a merry day on't.

MOTHER MIDNIGHT. That we will, i' faith, Peg; we'll have a whole noise of fiddlers there. Come, Peg, let's hie us home; we'll make a bag-pudding to supper, and William shall go and sup with us.

WILL CRICKET. Come on, i' faith. [_Exeunt_.

_Enter_ FORTUNATUS _and_ SOPHOS.

FORTUNATUS. Why, how now, Sophos? all _amort_? still languishing in love? Will not the presence of thy friend prevail, Nor hope expel these sullen fits? Cannot mirth wring if but a forged smile From those sad drooping looks of thine? Rely on hope, whose hap will lead thee right To her, whom thou dost call thy heart's delight: Look cheerly, man; the time is near at hand, That Hymen, mounted on a snow-white coach, Shall tend on Sophos and his lovely bride.

SOPHOS. 'Tis impossible: her father, man, her father-- He's all for Peter Plod-all.

FORTUNATUS. Should I but see that Plod-all offer love, This sword should pierce the peasant's breast, And chase his soul from his accursed corpse By an unwonted way unto the grisly lake. But now th'appointed time is near, That Churms should come with his supposed love: Then sit we down under these leafy shades, And wait the time of Lelia's wish'd approach.

[_They sit down_.

SOPHOS. Ay, here I'll wait for Lelia's wish'd approach; More wish'd to me than is a calm at sea[161] To shipwreck'd souls, when great god Neptune frowns. Though sad despair hath almost drown'd my hopes, Yet would I pass the burning vaults of Ork[162], As erst did Hercules to fetch his love, If I might meet my love upon the strond, And but enjoy her love one minute of an hour.

_Enter_ ROBIN GOODFELLOW.

But stay; what man or devil, or hellish fiend comes here, Transformed in this ugly, uncouth shape?

FORTUNATUS. O, peace a while; you shall see good sport anon.

ROBIN GOODFELLOW. Now I am clothed in this hellish shape, If I could meet with Sophos in these woods, O, he would take me for the devil himself: I should ha' good laughing, beside the forty Shillings Peter Plod-all has given me; and if I get no more, I'm sure of that. But soft; Now I must try my cunning, for here he sits.-- The high commander of the damned souls, Great Dis, the duke of devils, and prince of Limbo lake, High regent of Acheron, Styx, and Phlegeton, By strict command from Pluto, hell's great monarch, And fair Proserpina, the queen of hell, By full consent of all the damned hags, And all the fiends that keep the Stygian plains, Hath sent me here from depth of underground To summon thee to appear at Pluto's court.

FORTUNATUS. A man or devil, or whatsoe'er thou art, I'll try if blows will drive thee down to hell: Belike, thou art the devil's parator, The basest officer that lives in hell; For such thy words import thee for to be. 'Tis pity you should come so far without a fee; And because I know money goes low with Sophos, I'll pay you your fees: [_He beats him_. Take that and that, and that, upon thee.

ROBIN GOODFELLOW. O good sir, I beseech you; I'll do anything.

FORTUNATUS. Then down to hell; for sure thou art a devil.

ROBIN GOODFELLOW. O, hold your hands; I am not a devil, by my troth.

FORTUNATUS. Zounds, dost thou cross me? I say thou art a devil. [_Beats him again_.

ROBIN GOODFELLOW. O Lord! sir, save my life, and I'll say as you say, Or anything else you'll ha' me do.

FORTUNATUS. Then stand up, And make a preachment of thy pedigree, And how at first thou learn'dst this devilish trade: Up, I say. [_Beats him_.

ROBIN GOODFELLOW. O, I will, sir: although in some places [_Stands upon a stool_. I bear the title of a scurvy gentleman, By birth I am a boat-wright's son of Hull, My father got me of a refus'd hag, Under the old ruins of Booby's barn; Who, as she liv'd, at length she likewise died, And for her good deeds went unto the devil: But, hell not wont to harbour such a guest, Her fellow-fiends do daily make complaint Unto grim Pluto and his lady queen Of her unruly misbehaviour; Entreating that a passport might be drawn For her to wander till the day of doom On earth again, to vex the minds of men, And swore she was the fittest fiend in hell To drive men to desperation. To this intent her passport straight was drawn, And in a whirlwind forth of hell she came: O'er hills she hurls, and scours along the plains; The trees flew up by th'roots, the earth did quake for fear; The houses tumble down; she plays the devil and all: At length, not finding any one so fit To effect her devilish charge as I, She comes to me, as to her only child, And me her instrument on earth she made: And by her means I learn'd that devilish trade.

SOPHOS. O monstrous villain!

FORTUNATUS. But tell me, what's thy course of life, And how thou shift'st for maintenance in the world?

ROBIN GOODFELLOW. Faith, sir, I am in a manner a promoter, Or (more fitly term'd) a promoting knave; I creep into the presence of great men, And, under colour of their friendships, Effect such wonders in the world, That babes will curse me that are yet unborn. Of the best men I raise a common fame, And honest women rob of their good name: Thus daily tumbling in comes all my thrift; That I get best, is got but by a shift: But the chief course of all my life Is to set discord betwixt man and wife.

FORTUNATUS. Out upon thee, cannibal! [_He beats him_. Dost thou think thou shalt ever come to heaven?

ROBIN GOODFELLOW. I little hope for heav'n or heavenly bliss: But if in hell doth any place remain Of more esteem than is another room, I hope, as guerdon for my just desert, To have it for my detestable acts.

FORTUNATUS. Were't not thy tongue condemns thy guilty soul, I could not think that on this living earth Did breathe a villain more audacious. Go, get thee gone, and come not in my walk; [_Beats him_. For, if thou dost, thou com'st unto thy woe.

ROBIN GOODFELLOW. The devil himself was never conjur'd so. [_Exit_ ROBIN.

SOPHOS. Sure, he's no man, but an incarnate devil, Whose ugly shape bewrays his monstrous mind.

FORTUNATUS. And if he be a devil, I am sure he's gone: But Churms the lawyer will be here anon, And with him comes my sister Lelia; 'Tis he I am sure you look for.

SOPHOS. Nay, she it is that I expect so long.

FORTUNATUS. Then sit we down, until we hear more news, This but a prologue to our play ensues.

[_They sit down_.

_Enter_ CHURMS _and_ LELIA.

But see where Churms and Lelia comes along: He walks as stately as the great baboon. Zounds, he looks as though his mother were a midwife.

SOPHOS. Now, gentle Jove, great monarch of the world, Grant good success unto my wand'ring hopes.

CHURMS. Now Phoebus' silver eye is drench'd in western deep, And Luna 'gins to show her splendent rays, And all the harmless quiristers of woods Do take repose, save only Philomel; Whose heavy tunes do evermore record With mournful lays the losses of her love. Thus far, fair love, we pass in secret sort Beyond the compass of thy father's bounds, Whilst he on down-soft bed securely sleeps, And not so much as dreams of our depart The dangers pass'd, now think on nought but love; I'll be thy dear, be thou my heart's delight.

SOPHOS. Nay, first I'll send thy soul to coal-black night. [_Aside_.]

CHURMS. Thou promis'dst love, now seal it with a kiss.

FORTUNATUS. Nay, soft, sir; your mark is at the fairest. Forswear her love, and seal it with a kiss Upon the burnish'd splendour of this blade, Or it shall rip the entrails of thy peasant heart.

SOPHOS. Nay, let me do it, that's my part.

CHURMS. You wrong me much, to rob me of my love.

SOPHOS. Avaunt, base braggard! Lelia's mine.

CHURMS. She lately promis'd love to me.

FORTUNATUS. Peace, night-raven, peace! I'll end this controversy. Come, Lelia, stand between them both, As equal judge to end this strife: Say which of these shall have thee to his wife. I can devise no better way than this. Now choose thy love, and greet him with a kiss.

LELIA. My choice is made, and here it is. [_She kisses Sophos_.

SOPHOS. See here the mirror of true constancy, Whose steadfast love deserves a prince's worth.

LELIA. Master Churms, are you not well? I must confess I would have chosen you, But that I ne'er beheld your legs till now; Trust me, I never look'd so low before.

CHURMS. I know, you use to look aloft.

LELIA. Yet not so high as your crown.

CHURMS. What, if you had?

LELIA. Faith, I should ha' spied but a calf's head.

CHURMS. Zounds, cosen'd of the wench, and scoff'd at too! 'Tis intolerable; and shall I lose her thus? How it mads me, that I brought not my sword And buckler with me.

FORTUNATUS. What, are you in your sword-and-buckler terms? I'll put you out of that humour. There, Lelia sends you that by me, And that, to recompense your love's desires; And that, as payment for your well-earn'd hire. [_Beats him_. Go, get thee gone, and boast of Lelia's love.

CHURMS. Where'er I go, I'll leave with her my curse, And rail on you with speeches vild.

FORTUNATUS. A crafty knave was never so beguil'd. Now Sophos' hopes have had their lucky haps, And he enjoys the presence of his love: My vow's perform'd, and I am full reveng'd Upon this hell-bred race of cursed imps. Now rests nought but my father's free consent, To knit the knot that time can ne'er untwist, And that, as this, I likewise will perform. No sooner shall Aurora's pearled dew O'erspread the mantled earth with silver drops, And Phoebus bless the orient with a blush, To chase black night to her deformed cell, But I'll repair unto my father's house, And never cease with my enticing words, To work his will to knit this Gordian knot: Till when I'll leave you to your am'rous chat. Dear friend, adieu; fair sister, too, farewell: Betake yourselves unto some secret place, Until you hear from me how things fall out. [_Exit_ FORTUNATUS.

SOPHOS. We both do wish a fortunate good-night.

LELIA. And pray the gods to guide thy steps aright.

SOPHOS. Now come, fair Lelia, let's betake ourselves Unto a little hermitage hereby, And there to live obscured from the world, Till fates and fortune call us thence away, To see the sunshine of our nuptial day. See how the twinkling stars do hide their borrow'd shine, As half-asham'd their lustre is so stain'd By Lelia's beauteous eyes, that shine more bright Than twinkling stars do in a winter's night-- In such a night did Paris win his love.

LELIA. In such a night Aeneas prov'd unkind.

SOPHOS. In such a night did Troilus court his dear.

LELIA. In such a night fair Phillis was betray'd.

SOPHOS. I'll prove as true as ever Troilus was.

LELIA. And I as constant as Penelope.

SOPHOS. Then let us solace, and in love's delight And sweet embracings spend the livelong night; And whilst love mounts her on her wanton wings, Let descant run on music's silver strings.

[_Exeunt_.

A SONG.

1.
_Old Triton must forsake his dear,
The lark doth chant her cheerful lay;
Aurora smiles with merry cheer,
To welcome in a happy day_.

2.
_The beasts do skip,
The sweet birds sing;
The wood-nymphs dance,
The echoes ring_.

3.
_The hollow caves with joy resounds,
And pleasure ev'rywhere abounds;
The Graces, linking hand in hand,
In love have knit a glorious band_.

_Enter_ ROBIN GOODFELLOW, _old_ PLOD-ALL, _and his son_ PETER.

PLOD-ALL. Hear you, Master Goodfellow, how have you sped?

PETER PLOD-ALL. Ha' you played the devil bravely, and feared the scholar out on's wits?

ROBIN GOODFELLOW. A pox of the scholar!

PLOD-ALL. Nay, hark you: I sent you vorty shillings, and you shall have the cheese I promised you too.

ROBIN GOODFELLOW. A plague of the vorty shillings, and the cheese too!

PETER PLOD-ALL. Hear you, will you give me the powder you told me of?

ROBIN GOODFELLOW. How you vex me! Powder, quotha? zounds, I have been powdered.

PLOD-ALL. Son, I doubt he will prove a crafty knave, and cosen us of our money. We'll go to Master Justice, and complain on him, and get him whipped out o' the country for a coneycatcher.

PETER PLOD-ALL. Ay, or have his ears nailed to the pillory. Come, let's go.

[_Exeunt_ PLOD-ALL _and his son_.

_Enter_ CHURMS.

CHURMS. Fellow Robin, what news? how goes the world?

ROBIN GOODFELLOW. Faith, the world goes, I cannot tell how. How sped you with your wench?

CHURMS. I would the wench were at the devil! A plague upon't, I never say my prayers; and that makes me have such ill-luck.

ROBIN GOODFELLOW. I think the scholar be hunted with some demi-devil.

CHURMS. Why, didst thou fray him?

ROBIN GOODFELLOW. Fray him? a vengeance on't! all our shifting knavery's known; we are counted very vagrants. Zounds, I am afraid of every officer for whipping.