The knight of the burning pestle

Actus tertius, (Book 3)

Scoena prima. (Book 3)

Enter Iasper and Luce.

Iasp.

Come my deere deere, though we haue lost our way, We haue not lost our selues: are you not weary With this nights wandring, broken from your rest? And frighted with the terrour that attends The darknesse of these wilde vn-peopled place?

Luce.

No my best friend, I cannot either feare, Or entertaine a weary thought, whilst you (The end of all my full desires) stand by me. Let them that loose their hopes, and liue to languish Amongst the number of forsaken louers, Tell the long weary steps, and number time, Start at a shadow, and shrinke vp their bloud, Whilst I (possest with all content and quiet) Thus take my prettie loue, and thus imbrace him.

Iasp.

You haue caught me Luce, so fast, that whilst I liue I shall become your faithfull prisoner, And were these chaines for euer. Come sit downe, And rest your body, too too delicate For these disturbances; so, will you sleepe? Come, do not be more able then you are, I know you are not skilfull in these watches: For women are no souldiers; be not nice, But take it, sleepe I say.

Luce.

I cannot sleepe, Indeed I cannot friend.

Iasp.

Why then wee'l sing, And try how that will worke vpon our sences.

Luce.

Il'e sing, or say, or any thing but sleepe.

Ias.

Come little Mer-maid, rob me of my heart With that inchanting voyce.

Luce.

You mocke me Iasper.

Sung.

Iasp.

Tell me (deerest) what is loue?

Luce.

'Tis a lightning from aboue, 'Tis an arrow, 'tis a fire, 'Tis a boy they call desire. 'Tis a smile Doth beguile

Ias.

The poore hearts of men that proue. Tell me more, are women true?

Luce.

Some loue change, and so do you.

Ias.

Are they faire, and neuer kind?

Luce.

Yes, when men turne with the winde.

Ias.

Are they froward?

Luce.

Euer toward, Those that loue, to loue a new.

Ias.

Dissemble it no more, I see the God Of heauy sleepe, lay on his heauy mace Vpon your eye-lids.

Luce.

I am very heauy.

Iasp.

Sleep, sleep, & quiet rest crowne thy sweet thoughts: Keepe from her faire bloud, distempers, startings, Horrors, and fearefull shapes: let all her dreames Be ioyes, and chast delights, imbraces, wishes, And such new pleasures, as the rauisht soule Giues to the sences. So, my charmes haue tooke. Keepe her you powers diuine, whilst I contemplate Vpon the wealth and beauty of her minde. She is onely faire, and constant: onely kinde, And onely to thee Iasper. Oh my ioyes! Whither will you transport me? let not fulnesse Of my poore buried hopes, come vp together, And ouer-charge my spirits: I am weake Some say (how euer ill) the sea and women Are gouern'd by the Moone, both ebbe and flow, Both full of changes: yet to them that know, And truly iudge, these but opinions are, And heresies to bring on pleasing warre

Betweene our tempers, that without these were Both void of ater-loue, and present feare. Which are the best of Cupid. Oh thou child! Bred from dispaire, I dare not entertaine thee, Hauing a loue without the faults of women, And greater in her perfect goods then men: Which to make good, and please my selfe the stronger, Though certainely I am certaine of her loue, Il'e try her, that the world and memory May sing to after times, her constancie. Luce, Luce, awake.

Luce.

Why do you fright me, friend, With those distempered lookes? what makes your sword Drawne in your hand? who hath offended you? I pre'chee Iasper sleepe, thou art wilde with watching.

Iasp.

Come make your way to heauen, and bid the world (With all the villanies that sticke vpon it) Fare-well; you'r for another life.

Luce.

Oh Iasper! How haue my tender yeares committed euill, (Especially against the man I loue) Thus to be cropt vntimely?

Iasp.

Foolish girle, Canst thou imagine I could loue his daughter, That flung me from my fortune into nothing? Discharged me his seruice, shut the doores Vpon my pouerty, and scorn'd my prayers, Sending me, like a boat without a mast, To sinke or swin? Come, by this hand you dye, I must haue life and bloud to satisfie Your fathers wrongs.

Wife.

Away George, away, raise the watch at Ludgate, and bring a Mittimus from the Iustice for this desperate villaine. Now I charge you Gentlemen, see the Kings peace kept. O my heart what a varlet's this to offer man-slaughter vpon the harmelesse Gntlewoman?

Cit.

I warrant thee (sweet heart) wee'l haue him ham∣pered.

Luce.

Oh Iasper! be not cruell, If thou wilt kill me, mile and do it quickly.

And let not many deaths appeare before me. I am a woman made of feare and loue, A weake, weake woman, kill not with thy eyes, They shoot me through and through. Strike I am ready, And dying stil I loue thee.

Enter Merchant, Humphrey, and his men.

March.

Where abouts.

Iasp.

No more of this, now to my selfe againe.

Hum.

There, there he stands with sword like martial knight Drawne in his hand, therefore beware the fight You that be wise: for were I good sir Beuis, I would not stay his comming, by your leaues.

March.

Sirrah, restore my daughter.

Iasp.

Sirrah, no.

March.

Vpon him then.

Wife.

So, downe with him, downe with him, downe with him: cut him i'th leg boies, cut him i'th leg.

March.

Come your waies Minion, Il'e prouide a Cage For you, your growne so tame. Horse her away.

Humph.

Truly Ime glad your forces haue the day.

exeunt. manet Iasper.

Iasp.

They are gone, and I am hurt, my loue is lost, Neuer to get againe. Oh me vnhappy! Bleed, bleed, and dye, I cannot: Oh my folly! Thou hast betraid me. Hope where art thou fled? Tell me if thou bee'st any where remaining. Shall I but see my loue againe? Oh no! She will not daine to looke vpon her butcher, Nor is it fit she should; yet I must venter. Oh chance, or fortune, or what ere thou art That men adore for powerfull, heare my cry, And let me louing, liue; or loosing, die.

Exit.

Wife.

Is a gone George?

Cit.

I conie.

Wife.

Marie and let him goe (sweet heart,) by the faith a my body a has put me into such a fright, that I tremble (as they say) as 'twere an Aspine leafe: looke a my little singer George, how it shakes: now i truth euery member of my bo∣dy is the worse for't.

Cit.

Come, hugge in mine armes sweet mouse, hee shall

not fright thee any more: alas mine owne deere heart, how it quiuers.

Enter Mistresse Merrithought, Rafe, Michall, Squire Dwarfe, Host, and a Tapster.

Wife.

O Rafe, how dost thou Rafe? how hast thou slept to night? has the knight vs'd thee well?

Cit.

Peace Nell, let Rafe alone.

Tapst.

Maister, the reckoning is not paid.

Rafe.

Right curteous knight, who for the orders sake Which thou hast tane, hang'st out the holy bell, As I this flaming pestle beare about, We render thankes to your puissant selfe, Your beauteous Lady, and your gentle Squires, For thus refreshing of our wearied limbes, Stiffned with hard atchieuements in wilde desert.

Tapst.

Sir, there is twelue shillings to pay.

Rafe.

Thou merry Squire Tapstero, thankes to thee, For comforting our soules with double Iug, And if aduentrous fortune pricke thee forth, Thou Iouiall Squire, to follow feats of armes, Take heed thou tender euery Ladies cause, Euery truery true Knight, and euery damsell faire faire; But spill the bloud of trecherous Sarazens, And false inchanters, that with magicke spels, Haue done to death full many a noble Knight.

Host.

Thou valiant Knight of the burning Pestle, giue eare to me, there is twelue shillings to pay, and as I am a true Knight, I will not bate a peny.

Wife.

George, I pray thee tell me, must Rafe pay twelue shil∣lings now?

Cit.

No Nell, no, nothing but the old Knight is merrie with Rafe.

Wife.

O is't nothing else? Rafe will be as merry as he.

Rafe.

Sir Knight, this mirth of yours becomes you well, But to requite this liberall curtesie, If any of your Squires will follow armes, Hee shall receiue from my heroicke hand

A Knight-hood, by the vertue of this Pestle.

Host.

Faire Knight I thanke you for noble offer, Therefore gentle Knight, Twelue shillings you must pay, or I must cap you.

Wife.

Looke George, did not I tell thee as much, the Knight of the Bel is in earnest, Raph shall not bee beholding to him, giue him his money George, and let him go snickvp.

Ci.

Cap Raph? no; holdy our hand sir Knight of the Bel, theres your mony, haue you any thing to say to Raph now? Cap Raph?

Wife.

I would you should know it, Raph has friends that will not suffer him to be capt for ten times so much, and tea times to the end of that, now take thy course Raph.

M. mer.

Come Michael, thou & I wil go home to thy father, he hath enough left to keep vs a day or two, and we'le set fel∣lows abrod to cry our Purse & our Casket, Shalwe Michael?

Mich.

I, I pray Mother, intruth my feete are full of chilblaines with trauelling.

VVife.

Faith and those chilblanes are a foule trouble, Mi∣stresse Merie-thought when your youth comes home let him rub all the soles of his feete, and the heeles, and his ancles, with a mouse skinne, or if none of your people can catch a mouse, when hee goes to bed, let him rowle his feete in the warme embers, aud I warrant you hee shall be well, and you may make him put his fingers betweene his toes & smell to them, it's very soueraigne for his head if he be costiue.

Mist. mer.

Maister Knight of the burning Pestle, my son Michael and I, bid you farewel, I thanke your Worship hear∣tily for your kindnesse.

Raph.

Fare-well faire Lady and your tender Squire, If, pricking through these Desarts, I do heare Of any traiterous Knight who through his guile, Hath light vpon your Casket and your Purse, I will despoile him of them and restore them.

Mist. mer.

I thanke your Worship.

Exit with Michael.

Raph.

Dwarfe beare my shield, Squire eleuate my lance, And now fare-well you Knight of holy Bell.

Cit.

I, I Raph, all is paid.

Raph.

But yet before I go, speake worthy Knight, If ought you do of sad aduentures know, Where errant Knights may through his prowesse winne, Eternall fame and free some gentle soules, From endlesse bonds of steele and lingring paine.

Host.

Sirrah go to Nicke the Barbor, and bid him prepare himselfe, as I told you before, quickely.

Tap.

I am gone sir.

Exit Tapster.

Host.

Sir Knight, this wildernesse affoordeth none But the great venter, where full many a Knight Hath tride his prowesse and come off with shame, And where I would not haue you loose your life, Against no man, but furious fiend of hell.

Raph.

Speake on sir Knight, tell what he is, and where, For heere I vow vpon my blazing badge, Neuer to blaze a day in quietnesse; But bread and water will I onely eate, And the greene hearbe and rocke shall be my couch, Till I haue queld that man, or beast, or fiend, That workes such damage to all Errant Knights.

Host.

Not far from hence, neere to a craggy cliffe, At the North end of this distressed Towne, There doth stand a lowly house Ruggedly builded, and in it a Caue, In which an ougly Gyant now doth won, Yeleped Barbaroso: in his hand He shakes a naked lance of purest steele, With sleeues turn'd vp, and him before he weares, A motley garment, to preserue his cloaths From bloud of those Knights which he massacres, And Ladies Gent: without his dore doth hang A copper balon, on a piickant speare: At which, no sooner gentle Knights can knocke, But the shrill sound, fierce Barbaroso heares, And rushing forth, bings in the errant Knight, And sets him downe in an inchanted chaire. Then with an Engine which he hath prepar'd,

With forty teeth, he clawes his courtly crowne, Next makes him winke, and vnderneath his chinne, Hee plants a brazen peece of mighty bord, And knocks his bullets round about his cheeks, Whilst with his fingers, and an instrument With which he snaps his haire off, he doth fill The wretches eares with a most hideous noise. Thus euery Knight Aduenturer he doth trim, And now no creature dares encounter him.

Raph.

In Gods name, I will fight him, kinde sir, Go but before me to this dismall Caue, Where this huge Gyant Barbaroso dwels, And by that vertue that braue Rosicleere, That damned brood of ougly Gyants slew, And Palmerin Frannarco ouerthrew: I doubt not but to curbe this Traitor foule, And to the Diuell send his guilty soule.

Host.

Braue sprighted Knight, thus far I will performe. This your request, I'le bring you with in sight Of this most lothsome place, inhabited By a more loathsome man: but dare not stay, For his maine force soopes all he sees away.

Raph.

Saint George set on before, march Squire and page.

Exeunt.

VVife.

George, dost thinke Raph will confound the Gyant?

Cit.

I hold my cap to a farthing hee does: why Nel I saw him wrastle with the great Dutch-man and hurle him.

VVife.

Faith and that Ducth-man was a goodly man, if all things were answerable to his bignesse, and yet they say there was a Scotsh-man higher then hee, and that they two and a Knight met, and saw one another for nothing, but of all the sights that euer were in London, since I was married, mee thinkes the little child that was so faire growne about the members was the prettiest, that, and the Hermophrodite.

Cit.

Nay by your leaue Nel, Niniuy was better.

VVife.

Niniuie, O that was the story of Ione and the Wall, was it not George?

Cit.

Yes lam.

Enter mistresse Merry-thought.

VVife.

Looke George, heere comes Mistresse Merry-thought againe, and I would haue Raph come and fight with the Giant, I tell you true, I long to see't.

Cit.

Good Mistresse Merry-thought be gone, I pray you for my sake, I pray you forbeare a little, you shall haue audi∣ence presently, I haue a little businesse.

VVife.

Mastresse Merry-thought if it please you to refraine your passiō a little, til Raph haue dispatch the Giant out of the way we shalthink our selues much bound to you, I thank you good Mistresse Merry-thought.

Exit mist. Merry-thou:

Enter a boy.

Cit.

Boy, come hither, send away Raph and this whore-sonne Giant quickely.

Boy.

In good faith sir we cannot, you'le vtterly spoile our Play, and make it to be hist, and it cost money, you will not suffer vs to go on with our plot, I pray Gentlemen rule him.

Cit.

Let him come now and dispatch this, and I'le trou∣ble you no more.

Boy.

Will you giue me your hand of that?

Wife.

Giue him thy hand George, do, and I'le kisse him, I warrant thee the youth meanes plainely.

Boy.

I'le send him to you presently.

Exit Boy.

VVife.

I thanke you little youth, feth the child hath a sweete breath George, but I thinke it bee troubled with the wormes, Carduus Benedictus and Mares milke were the onely thing in the world for't, O Raph's here George, God send thee good lucke Raph.

Enter Raph, Host, Squire, and Dwarfe.

Host.

Puissant Knight yonder his Mansion is, Lo where the speare and Copper Bason are, Behold that string on which hangs many a tooth, Drawne from the gentle iaw of wandring Knights, I dare not stay to sound, hee will appeare.

Exit Host.

Raph.

O faint not heart, Susan my Lady deere, The Coblers Maid in Milke-streete, for whose sake, I take these Armes, O let the thought of thee, Carry thy Knight through all aduenterous deeds,

And in the honor of thy beauteous selfe, May I destroy this monster Barbaroso, Knocke Squire vpon the Bason till it breake.

Enter Barbor.

With the shrill stroakes, or till the Giant speake.

Wife.

O George, the Giant, the Giant, now Raph for thy life.

Barber.

What fond vnknowing wight is this? that dares So rudely knocke at Barbarossa's Cell, Where no man comes but leaues his fleece behind?

Raph.

I, traiterous Caitiffe, who am sent by fate To punish all the sad enormities Thou hast committed against Ladies Gent And errant Knights, traitor to God and men: Prepare thy selfe, this is the dismall houre Appointed for thee, to giue strickt account Of all thy beastly treacherous villanies.

Barber.

Foole-hardy Knight, full soone thou shalt aby This fond reproach, thy body will I bang,

Hee takes downe his pole.

And loe vpon that string thy teeth shall hang: Prepare thy selfe, for dead soone shalt thou bee,

Raph.

Saint George for me.

They fight.

Barber.

Gargantua for me.

Wife.

To him, Raph to him, hold vp the Giant, set out thy leg before Raph.

Cit.

Falsifie a blow Raph, falsifie a blow, the Giant lies open on the left side.

Wife.

Beare't off, beare't of still; there boy, O Raphe's al∣most downe, Raph's almost downe.

Raph.

Susan inspire me, now haue vp againe.

Wife.

Vp, vp, vp, vp, vp, so Raph, downe with him, downe with him Raph.

Cit.

Fetch him ore the hip boy.

VVife.

There boy, kill, kill, kill, kill, kill, Raph.

Cit.

No Raph get all out of him first.

Raph.

Presumptuous man, see to what desperate end Thy treatchery hath brought thee, the iust Gods, Who neuer prosper those that do despise them, For all the villanies which thou hast done

To Knights and Ladies, now haue paid thee home By my stiffe arme, a Knight aduenturous, But say vile wretch, before I send thy soule To sad Auernus whether it must go, What captiues holdst thou in thy sable caue.

Barber.

Go in and free them all, thou hast the day.

Raph.

Go Squire & Dwarfe, search in this dreadfull Caue And free the wretched prisoners from their bonds.

Exit Squire and Dwarfe.

Barber.

I craue for mercy, as thou art a Knight, And scornst to spill the bloud of those that beg.

Raph.

Thou showdst no mercy, nor shalt thou haue any, Prepare thy selfe for thou shalt surely die.

Enter Squire leading one winking, with a Bason vnder his chin.

Squire.

Behold braue Knight heere is one prisoner, Whom this wilde man hath vsed as you see.

Wife.

This is the first wise word I heard the Squire speake.

Raph.

Speake what thou art, and how thou hast bene vs'd, That that I may giue condigne punishment,

1. Kni.

I am a Knight that tooke my iourney post North-ward from London, and in curteous wise, This Giant train'd me to his loathsome den, Vnder pretence of killing of the itch, And all my body with a powder strew'd, That smarts and stings, and cut away my beard, And my curl'd lockes wherein were ribands ti'de, And with a water washt my tender eyes, Whilst vp and downe about me still he skipt, Whose vertue is, that till mine eyes be wip't With a dry cloath, for this my foule disgrace, I shall not dare to looke a dog i'th' face.

VVife.

Alas poore Knight, relieue him Raph, releiue poore Knights whilst you liue.

Raph.

My trusty Squire conuey him to the Towne, Where he may finde releife, adiew faire Knight,

Exit knight.

Enter Dwarfe leading one with a patch ore his Nose.

Dwar.

Puisant Knight of the burning Pestle hight,

See heere another wretch, whom this foule beast Hath scorcht and scor'd in this inhumaine wise.

Raph.

Speake me thy name and eke thy place of birth, And what hath bene thy vsage in this Caue.

2. Knight.

I am a Knight, Sir Pocke-hole is my name, And by my birth I am a Londoner Free by my Coppy, but my Ancestors Were French-men all, and riding hard this way, Vpon a trotting horse, my bones did ake, And I faint Knight to ease my weary limbes, Light at this Caue, when straight this furious fiend, With sharpest instrument of purest steele, Did cut the gristle of my Nose away, And in the place this veluet plaister stands, Relieue me gentle Knight out of his hands.

Wife.

Good Raph releiue sir Pocke-hole and send him away, for, intruth, his breath stinkes,

Raph.

Conuey him straight after the other Knight, Sir Pocke-hole fare you well.

2. Kni.

Kinde sir good-night.

Exit.

Cryes within.

Man.

Deliuer vs.

VVoeman.

Deliuer vs.

VVife.

Hearke George, what a woefull cry there is, I thinke some woman lies in there.

Man.

Deliuer vs.

VVoeman.

Deliuer vs.

Raph.

What gastly noise is this? speake Barbarose, Or by this blasing steele thy head goes off.

Barber.

Prisoners of mine whom I in diet keepe, Send lower downe into the Caue, And in a Tub that's heated smoaking hot, There may they finde them and deliuer them,

Raph.

Run Squire and Dwarfe, deliuer them with speed.

Exeunt Squire and Dwarfe.

Wife.

But will not Raph kill this Giant, surely I am afeard if hee let him go he will do as much hurt, as euer he did.

Cittiz.

Not so mouse neither, if hee could conuert him.

Wife.

I George if hee could conuert him, but a Giant is not so soone conuerted as one of vs ordinary people: there's a pretty tale of a Witch, that had the diuels marke about her, God blesse vs, that had a Giant to her sonne, that was cal'd Lob-lie-by-the-fire, didst neuer here it George?

Enter Squire leading a man with a glasse of Lotion in his hand, and the Dwarfe leading a woman, with diet-bread and drinke.

Cit.

Peace Nel, heere comes the prisoners.

Dwar.

Here be these pined wretches, manfull Knight, That for these sixe weekes haue not seene a wight.

Raph.

Deliuer what you are, and how you came To this sad Caue, and what your vsage was?

Man.

I am an Errant Knight that followed Armes, With speare and shield, and in my tender yeares I stricken was with Cupids fiery shaft, And fell in loue with this my Lady deere, And stole her from her friends in Turne-bull-streete, And bore her vp and downe from Towne to Towne, Where we did eate and drinke and Musicke heare, Till at the length, at this vnhappy Towne Wee did arriue, and comming to this Caue This beast vs caught and put vs in a Tub, Where we this two monthes sweate, and should haue done Another Moneth if you had not relieu'd vs.

VVom.

This bread and water hath our diet bene, Together with a rib cut from a necke Of burned Mutton, hard hath bene our fare, Release vs from this ougly Giants snare.

Man.

This hath bene all the food we haue receiu'd, But onely twice a day for nouelty, He gaue a spoonefull of this hearty broth,

Puls out a sirringe

To each of vs, through this same slender quill.

Raph.

From this infernall monster you shall go, That vseth Knights and gentle Ladies so, Conuey them hence.

Exeunt man and woman.

Cit.

Cony, I can tell thee the Gentlemen like Rafe.

VVife.

I George, I see it well inough. Gentlemen I thanke you all heartily for gracing my man Rafe, and I promise you you shall see him oftner.

Barber.

Mercy great knight, I do recant my ill, And henceforth neuer gentle bloud will spill.

Rafe.

I giue thee mercy, but yet shalt thou sweare Vpon my burning pestle, to performe Thy promise vtterd.

Barber.

I sweare and kisse.

Rafe.

Depart then, and amend.

Come squire and dwarfe, the Sunne growes towards his set, and we haue many more aduentures yet.

Exeunt.

Cit.

Now Rafe is in this humour, I know hee would ha beaten all the boyes in the house if they had beene set on him.

VVife.

I George, but it is well as it is, I warrant you the Gentlemen do consider what it is to ouerthrow a gyant: but looke George, heere comes mistresse Merri-thought and her sonne Michael; now you are welcome mistresse Merri- thought, now Rafe has done you may go on.

Enter mistresse Merri-thought, and Michael.

Mist. mer.

Micke my boy?

Mich.

I forsooth mother.

Mist. mer.

Be merry Micke we are at home now; where I warrant you, you shall finde the house flung out at the win∣dowes: Harke, hey dogges, hey, this is the old world I'faith with my husband, if I get in among 'em, Ile play em such a lesson, that they shall haue little list to come scraping hi∣ther, againe. Why maister Merri-thought, husband, Charles Merri-thought.

Old merri. within.

If you will sing and daunce, and laugh, and hollow, and laugh againe, and then cry there boyes, there: why then

One, two, three, and foure, We shall be merry within this houre.

Mist. merri.

Why Charles, doe you not know your

owne naturall wife? I say, open the doore, and turne me out those mangy companions; 'tis more then time that they were fellow and fellow like with you: you are a Gentleman Charles, and an old man, and father of two children; and I my selfe (though I say it) by my mothers side, Neece to a worshipfull Gentleman, and a Conductor, ha has beene three times in his Maiesties seruice at Chester, and is now the fourth time, God blesse him, and his charge vpon his iourney.

Old Mer.

Go from my window, loue, goe; Go from my window my deere, The winde and the raine will driue you backe againe, You cannot he lodged heere.

Harke you Mistresse Merrithought, you that walke vpon ad∣uentures, and forsake your husband, because hee sings with neuer a peny in his purse; What shall I thinke my selfe the worse? Faith no, Il'e be merry.

You come not heere, heer's none but lads of mettle, liues of a hundred yeares, and vpwards, care neuer drunke their blouds, nor want made 'em warble.

Hey-ho, my heart is heauy.

Mist mer.

Why M^r. Merrithought, what am I that you should laugh me to scorne thus abruptly? am I not your fel∣low-feeler (as we may say) in all our miseries? your comfor∣ter in health and sicknesse? haue I not brought you Chil∣dren? are they not like you Charles? looke vpon thine owne Image hard-hearted man; and yet for all this—

Old mer. within.

Begone, begone, my Iuggy, my puggy, be∣gone my loue, my deere.

The weather is warme, twill do thee no harme, thou canst not be lodged heere.

Be merry boyes, some light musicke, and more wine.

Wife.

He's not in earnest, I hope George, is he?

Cit.

What if he be, sweet heart?

Wife.

Marie if hee be George, Ile make bold to tell him hee's an Ingrant old man, to vse his bed-fellow so scuruily.

Cit.

What how does he vse her hunny?

Wife.

Marie come vp sir sauce-box, I thinke you'l take his part, will you not? Lord how hot you are growne: you are a fine man an you had a fine dogge, it becomes you sweetly.

Cit.

Nay pre'thee Nell chide not: for as I am an honest man, and a true Christian Grocer, I doe not like his do∣ings.

Wife.

I cry you mercie then George; you know we are all fraile, and full of infirmities. Dee heare M^r. Merri-thought, may I craue a word with you?

Old mer within.

Strike vp liuely lads.

Wife.

I had not thought in truth, M^r. Merrithought, that a man of your age and discretion (as I may say) being a Gen∣tleman, and therefore knowne by your gentle conditions, could haue vsed so little respect to the weaknesse of his wife: for your wife is your owne flesh, the staffe of your age, your yoke-fellow, with whose helpe you draw through the mire of this transitory world: Nay, she's your owne ribbe. And againe—

Old mer.

I come not hither for thee to teach, I haue no pulpit for thee to preach, I would thou hadst kist me vnder the breech, As thou art a Lady gay.

Wife.

Marie with a vengeance.

I am hartely sorry for the poore gentlewoman: but if I were thy wife, I'faith gray-beard, I'faith—

Cit.

I pre'thee sweet hunny-suckle, be content.

Wife.

Giue me such words that am a gentlewoman borne, hang him hoary rascall. Get mee some drinke George, I am almost molten with fretting: now beshrew his knaues heart for it.

Old mer.

Play me a light Laualto: come, bee frolicke, fill the good fellowes wine.

Mist. mer.

Why M^r. Merrithought, are you disposed to make me wait here: you'l open I hope, Il'e fetch them that shall open else.

Old mer.

Good woman if you wil sing Il'e giue you some∣thing, if not-

Song.

You are no loue for me Margret, I am no loue for you. Come aloft Boyes, aloft.

Mist. mer.

Now a Churles fart in your teeth sir: Come Micke, wee'l not trouble him, a shall not ding vs i'th teeth with his bread and his broth: that he shall not: come boy, Il'e prouide for thee, I warrant thee: wee'l goe to maister Ven∣terwels the Merchant, Il'e get his letter to mine Host of the Bell in Waltham, there Il'e place thee with the Tapster; will not that doe well for thee Micke? and let me alone for that old Cuckoldly knaue your father, Il'e vse him in his kinde, I warrant yee.

Wife.

Come George, wher's the beere?

Cit.

Here loue.

Wife.

This old fornicating fellow wil not out of my mind yet; Gentlemen, Il'e begin to you all, and I desire more of your acquaintance, with all my heart. Fill the Gentlemen some beere George.

Finis Actus tertij. Musicke.