Scena Prima.
Enter Alphonso, Gent. Juletta.
Gent.
YOU are now within a mile o'th' Town Sir: if my business
Would give me leave, I would turn and wait upon ye;
But for such Gentlemen as you enquire of,
Certain, I saw none such: But for the boy ye spoke of,
I will not say 'tis he, but such a one;
Just of that height.
Alph.
In such clothes?
Gent.
I much mistake else,
Was sent in th' other night, a little maddish,
And where such people wait their cures —
Alph.
I understand ye.
Gent.
There you may quickly know.
Alph.
I thank ye Sir.
Jul.
So do I too: and if there be such a place,
I ask no more: but you shall hear more of me,
She may be there, and you may play the tyrant;
I'le see what I can do: I am almost found••ed
In following him; and yet I'le never leave him,
••le crawl of all four first; my cause is meritorious,
And come what can come.
Gent.
All you have told me is certain;
Complexion, and all else.
Alph.
It may be she then;
And I'le so fumble her: is she grown mad now?
Is her blood set so high? I'le have her madded,
I'le have her worm'd.
Jul.
Mark but the end, old Master,
If thou beest not sick o'th' Bots within these five hours,
And kickst and roar'st; I'le make ye fart fire, Signior.
Enter Alinda, as a fool.
Gent.
Here's one o'th' house, a fool, an idiot Sir;
May be she is going home; she'l be a guide to ye:
And so I kiss your hand. Exit.
Alph.
I am your servant.
Alin.
O now I am lost, lost, lost, Lord, how I tremble!
My Father, arm'd in all his hates and angers;
This is more misery than I have scap'd yet.
Alph.
Fool, fool.
Alin.
He knows me not; will ye give me two pence?
And gaffer, here's a Crow-flower, and a Dazie;
I have some pie in my pocket too.
Alph.
This is an arrant fool,
An ignorant thing.
Alin.
Believe so, and I am happy.
Alph.
Dost thou dwell in Sigovia, fool?
Alin.
No no, I dwell in Heaven.
And I have a fine little house, made of Marmalad.
And I am a lone woman, and I spin for Saint Peter;
I have a hundred little children, and they sing Psalms with me.
Alp.
'Tis pity this pretty thing should want understanding.
But why do I stand talking with a coxcombe?
If I do find her, if I light upon her,
I'le say no more. Is this the way to th' Town, fool?
Alin.
You must go over the top of that high steeple, G••ffer.
Alp.
A plague o' your fools face.
Jul.
No, take her counsel.
Alin.
And then you shall come to a River twenty mile ov••r,
And twenty mile and ten: and then you must pray, Gaffer;
And still you must pray, and pray.
A••p.
Pray Heaven deliver me
From such an ass, as thou art.
Alin.
Amen, sweet Gaffer.
And fling a sop of Suger-cake into it;
And then you must leap in naked.
Jul.
Would he would believe her.
Alin.
And sink seven daies together; can ye sink gaffer?
Alp.
Yes coxcomb, yes; prethee farewel: a pox on thee.
A plague o' that fool too, that set me upon thee.
Alin.
And then I'le bring you a sup of Milk shall serve ye:
I am going to get Apples.
Alp.
Go to th' Devil:
Was ever man tormented with a puppy thus?
Thou tell me news? thou be a guide?
Alin.
And then Nunkle —
Alph.
Prethee keep on thy way (good Naunt) I could rail now
These ten hours at mine own improvidence:
Get Apples, and be choak'd: farewel. Exit.
Alin.
Farewel Nunkle.
Jul.
I rejoyce in any thing that vexes him;
And I shall love this fool extreamly for't:
Could I but see my Mistris now, to tell her
How I have truly, honestly wrought for her,
How I have worn my self away, to serve her.
Fool, there's a Royal for the sport thou mad'st me,
In crossing that old fool, that parted from thee.
Alin.
Thou art honest sure; but yet thou must not see me:
I thank ye little Gentleman: Heaven bless ye
And I'le pray for ye too: pray ye keep this Nutmeg.
'Twas sent me from the Lady of the Mountain,
A golden Lady.
Jul.
How prettily it prattles!
Alin.
'Tis very good to rub your understanding: