Ralph is however persuaded to live, and by Matthew's advice resolves to try what a personal interview with Christian will do. Matthew tells him not to M. Merry. Ye know not where your preferment lieth, I see. He sendeth you such a token, ring, and letter. C. Custance. Marry, here it is, ye never saw a better. M. Merry. Let us see your letter. C. Custance. Hold, read it if ye can, And see what letter it is to win a woman. M. Merry. To mine own dear coney bird, sweetheart, and pigsny, Good Mistress Custance, present these by and by.' Of this superscription do ye blame the style? C. Custance. With the rest, as good stuff as ye read a great while. M. Merry. Sweet Mistress, whereas I love you nothing at all, Regarding your substance and riches chief of all; For your personage, beauty, demeanour, and wit, wife.' ... The letter goes on thus to some length, it being capable of affording two very different senses, according to the punctuation. 1 Meaning at the end of the play, where 'the Psalmodie' is inserted, which is supposed to be sung below. 2ie. executor. 3 Haze means 'ha' us,' or 'have us.' They then have an interview with the Scrivener, whom Ralph tries to bully, but is made to eat humble-pie. The Scrivener reads the letter, pointing it so as to bring out a sense different from Ralph's copy. Matthew and Ralph then resolve to have another interview with Christian, and put her right as to the letter. Is to salute Dame Christian Custance, his wife Espoused; whom he tendereth no less than his life. But lo, forth cometh herself happily indeed. ACT IV.-SCENE II. C. Custance. I come to see if any more stirring be here. But what stranger is this, which doth to me appear? Sym Sure. I will speak to her.-Dame, the Lord you save and see. C. Custance. What, friend Sym Suresby? Forsooth, right welcome ye be. How doth mine own Gavin Goodlucke? I pray thee tell. Sym Sure. When he knoweth of your health he will be perfect well. C. Custance. If he have perfect health, I am as I would be. Sym Sure. Such news will please him well, this is as it should be. C. Custance. I think now long for him. C. Custance. When will he be at home? C. Custance. I would see that fain. Sym Sure. As fast as wind and sail can carry it amain. But what two men are yonder, coming hitherward? C. Custance. Now, I shrew their best Christmas cheeks both togetherward! M. Merry. Nay, Mistress Custance, I warrant you, our letter Is not as we read e'en now, but much better. C. Custance. I did not refuse him for the letter's sake. R. Roister. Then ye are content me for your husband to take. C. Custance. You for my husband to take? Nothing less truly. But what prate I with fools? have I nought else to do? Come in with me, Sym Suresby, to take some repast. Sym Sure. I must, e'er I drink, by your leave, go in all haste To a place or two with earnest letters of his. C. Custance. Do not miss, You shall have a token to your master with you. C. Custance. I will be even with thee, thou beast, thou may be bold. R. Roister. Will ye have us, then? R. Roister. Then will I have you? C. Custance. No, the devil shall have thee. I have got this hour more shame and harm by thee, Than all thy life days thou canst do me honesty. Faith, rather than to marry with such a doltish lout, I would match myself with a beggar out of doubt. R. Roister. Yes, daine, I will have you whether ye will or no. I command you to love me, wherefore should ye not? Is not my love to you chafing and burning hot? M. Merry. To her, that is well said. R. Roister. Shall I so break my brain C. Custance. Go to, thou goose. In case ye will not haze, well, better yes perchance. C. Custance. Avaunt, lozell, pick thee hence. M. Merry. Well, sir, ye perceive, For all your kind offer, she will not you receive. R. Roister. Then a straw for her, and a straw for her again. She shall not be my wife, would she never so fain, No, and though she would be at ten thousand pound cost. M. Merry. Lo, dame, ye may see what a husband ye have lost. C. Custance. Yea, no force; a jewel much better lost than found. M. Merry. Ah, ye will not believe how this doth my heart wound. How should a marriage between you be toward, If both parties draw back, and become so froward? R. Roister. Nay, dame, I will fire thee out of thy house, and destroy Thee and all thine, and that by and by. M. Merry. Nay, for the passion of God, sir, do not so. R. Roister. Yes, except she will say yes to that she said no. Christian then sends for Tristram Trusty, and she and her maids resolve that if Ralph makes his appearance again they will give him a warm reception. Trusty meantime endeavours to console her; Merrygreeke joins them, and assures Christian that he takes part in Ralph's wooing merely for sport and pastime. C. Custance. I'll ache your heads both! I was never wearier, Nor never more vexed since the first day I was born. M. Merry. Hither will he repair with a sheep's look full grim, By plain force and violence to drive you to yield. C. Custance. If ye two bid me, we will with him pitch afield, And my maids together. M. Merry. Let us see; be bold. C. Custance. Ye shall see women's war. T. Trusty. That fight will I behold. M. Merry. If occasion serve, taking his part full brim, I will strike at you, but the rap shall light on When we first appear— C. Custance. Then will I run away, As though I were afraid. [him. M. Merry. Nay, the stomach of a horse or a dog, I wean. R. Roister. Nay, a man's stomach with a weapon mean I. M. Merry. Ten men can scarce match you with a spoon in a pie. R. Roister. Nay, the stomach of a man to try in strife. M. Merry. I never saw your stomach cloyed yet in my life. R. Roister. Tush, I mean in strife or fighting to try. M. Merry. We shall see how ye will strike now being angry. R. Roister. Nay, as for they, shall every mother's child die, And in this my fume a little thing might make me To beat down house and all, and else the devil take me. C R. Roister. No, though she make to me never so many friends; Not if all the world for her would undertake: No, not God himself neither, shall not her peace make. On, therefore! march forward! Soft, stay a while yet. M. Merry. On. M. Merry. On. R. Roister. Soft. Now forward set. C. Custance. What business have we here? Out, alas, alas! R. Roister. Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha! Didst thou see that, Merrygreeke, how afraid she was? Didst thou see how she fled apace out of my sight? Ah, good sweet Custance! I pity her, by this light. M. Merry. That tender heart of yours will mar altogether; Thus will ye be turned with wagging of a feather. R. Roister. On, sirs, keep your ray. M. Merry. On forth, while this gear is hot. R. Roister. Soft, the Arms of Calais, I have one thing forgot. M. Merry. What lack we now? R. Roister. Retire, or else we be all slain. M. Merry. Back, for the passion of God! back, sirs, back again! What is the great matter? R. Roister. This hasty forthgoing R. Roister. It is a thing must be had. R. Roister. But I wot not where, nor how. But what is it? R. Roister. Of a chief thing I am to seek. M. Merry. Tut so will ye be, when ye have studied a week. But tell me what it is. R. Roister. I lack yet an headpiece. M. Merry. The kitchen collocavit,' the best hens to grace. Run, fetch it, Dobinet, and come at once withal, And bring with thee my potgun, hanging by the wall. I have seen your head with it, full many a time, Covered as safe as it had been with a screen; And I warrant it save your head from any stroke, Except perchance to be amazed with the smoke. I warrant your head therewith, except for the mist, As safe as if it were locked up in a chest. M. Merry. Let me see it on. R. Roister. In faith, it doth metely well. M. Merry. There can be no fitter thing. Now ye must us tell What to do. R. Roister. Now forth in array, sirs, and stop no more. M. Merry. Now, Saint George to borrow!? Drum, dubbe a dubbe afore. 1 It is not at all clear what kitchen utensil is here meant-perhaps a culender. 2 To borrow is to protect or guard. Thus in Every T. Trusty. What mean you to do, sir? Commit manslaughter? R. Roister. To kill forty such is a matter of laughter. T. Trusty. And who is it, sir, whom ye intend thus to spill? R. Roister. Foolish Custance here forceth me against my will. T. Trusty. And is there no means your extreme wrath to slake? She shall some amends unto your good ma'ship make. R. Roister. I will none amends. T. Trusty. Is her offence so sore? M. Merry. And he were a lout she could have done do more. She hath called him fool, and dressed him like a fool, Mocked him like a fool, used him like a fool. T. Trusty. Well yet the sheriff, the justice, or constable, Her misdemeanour to punish might be able. R. Roister. No, sir, I mine own self will in this present cause Be sheriff, and justice, and whole judge of the laws. This matter to amend, all officers be I shall, And she gape and hiss at him, as she doth at me, I durst jeopard my hand, she will make him flee. C. Custance. On, forward. R. Roister. They come. M. Merry. Stand. R. Roister. Hold. R. Roister. Take heed. C. Custance. Well said, Truepenny. Truepenny. Ah, whoresons! C. Custance. Well done, indeed. M. Merry. Hold thine own, Harpax: down with them, Dobinet. C. Custance. Now Madge, there Annot; now stick them, Tibet. Tib. Talk. All my chief quarrel is to this same little knave, That beguiled me last day: nothing shall him M. Merry. Nay then, have at you, mistress. M. Merry. I will strike at Custance here. M. Merry. So I will. Nay, Mistress Custance. R. Roister. Alas, thou hittest me still. Hold! M. Merry. Save yourself, sir! R. Roister. Help! Out alas, I am slain. M. Merry. Truce, hold your hands! How, how say you, Custance, for saving of your life, Will ye yield and grant to be this gentleman's wife? C. Custance. He told me he loved me: call ye this love? M. Merry. He loved a while, even like a turtle-dove. C. Custance. Gay love, God save it, so soon hot, so soon cold. M. Merry. I am sorry for you: he could love you yet, so he could. R. Roister. Nay, she shall be none of mine. M. Merry. Why so? R. Roister. Come away, by the mass, she is mankine.2 I durst adventure the loss of my right hand, M. Merry. What then? Saint George to borrow, our lady's knight. R. Roister. Slay else whom she will, by Gog, she shall not slay me. M. Merry. How then? R. Roister. Rather than to be slain, I will flee. C. Custance. To it again, my knightnesses: down with them all! R. Roister. Away, away, away! she will else kill us all. 1 That is, Monsieur grand Capitaine. 2 She is mankine,' or of the male species. So Sicinius, in Coriolanus, Act iv. scene 2, asks Volumnia, Are you mankind?'-See the notes upon this passage. M. Merry. Nay, stick to it, like an hardy man and a tall. R. Roister. Oh, bones! thou hittest me. Away, or else die we shall. M. Merry. Away, for the passion of our sweet Lord Jesus Christ. C. Custance. Away, lout and lubber, or I shall be thy priest. So, this field is ours, we have driven them all away. Now Roister Doister will no more wooing begin. [Exeunt. ACT V.-SCENE II. C. CUSTANCE; GAVIN GOODLUCKE; SYM C. Custance. I come forth to see and hearken for news good; For about this hour is the time, of likelihood, That Gavin Goodlucke, by the sayings of Suresby, What, Gavin Goodlucke! the only hope of my Would be at home; and lo! yonder I see him I. life, Welcome home, and kiss me, your true espoused wife. G. Good. Nay, soft, Dame Custance; I must first, by your licence, See whether all things be clear in your conscience. I hear of your doings to me very strange. C. Custance. What! fear ye that my faith towards you should change? G. Good. I must needs mistrust ye be elsewhere entangled, For I hear that certain men with you have wrangled About the promise of marriage by you to them made. C. Custance. Why, Tristram Trusty, sir, your true and faithful friend, Was privy both to the beginning and the end. Let him be the judge, and for me testify. G. Good. I will the more credit that he shall verify: And, because I will the truth know, e'en as it is, I will to him myself, and know all, without miss. Come on, Sym Suresby, that before my friend thou may Avouch thee the same words, which thou didst to me say. [Exeunt. ACT V.-SCENE IV. GAVIN GOODLUCKE; TRISTRAM TRUSTY; C. CUSTANCE; SYM SURESBY. G. Good. And was it none other than ye to me report? T. Trusty. No; and here were ye wished, to have seen the sport. G. Good. Would I had, rather than half of that in my purse. Sym Sure. And I do much rejoice the matter was no worse; |