RALPH ROISTER DOISTER A COMEDY

What creature is in health, either young or old, But some mirth with modesty will be glad to use, As we in this interlude shall now unfold? Wherein all scurrility we utterly refuse; Avoiding such mirth, wherein is abuse: Knowing nothing more commendable for a man's recreation, Than mirth which is used in an honest fashion. For mirth prolongeth life, and causeth health; Mirth recreates our spirits, and voideth pensiveness; Mirth increaseth amity (not hind'ring our wealth); Mirth is to be used both of more and less, Being mixed with virtue in decent comeliness, As we trust no good nature can gainsay the same: Which mirth we intend to use, avoiding all blame. The wise poets, long time heretofore, Under merry comedies secrets did declare, Wherein was contained very virtuous lore, With mysteries and forewarnings very rare. Such to write neither Plautus nor Terence did spare, Which among the learned at this day bears the bell: These with such other therein did excel. Our comedy or interlude, which we intend to play, Is named Roister Doister indeed, Which against the vain-glorious doth inveigh, Whose humour the roisting sort continually doth feed. Thus, by your patience, we intend to proceed In this our interlude, by God's leave and grace: And here I take my leave for a certain space.

As long liveth the merry man (they say), As doth the sorry man, and longer by a day; Yet the grasshopper, for all his summer piping, Starveth in winter with hungry griping: Therefore another said saw doth men advise, That they be together both merry and wise. This lesson must I practise or else, ere long, With me, Matthew Merrygreek, it will be wrong. Indeed men so call me; for, by him that us bought, Whatever chance betide, I can take no thought. Yet wisdom would that I did myself bethink, Where to be provided this day of meat and drink; For know ye that, for all this merry note of mine, He might oppose me now, that should ask where I dine. My living lieth here and there, of God's grace, Sometime with this good man, sometime in that place; Sometime Lewis Loiterer biddeth me come near; Somewhiles Watkin Waster maketh us good cheer; Sometime Davy Diceplayer, when he hath well cast, Sometime Davy Diceplayer, when he hath well cast, Maketh revel-rout, as long as it will last; Sometime Tom Titivile[38] maketh us a feast; Sometime with Sir Hugh Pie I am a bidden guest; Sometime at Nichol Neverthrive's I get a sop; Sometime I am feasted with Bryan Blinkinsop; Sometime I hang on Hankyn Hoddydoddy's sleeve; But this day on Ralph Roister Doister's, by his leave. For truly of all men he is my chief banker, Both for meat and money, and my chief shoot-anchor.[39] Forsooth Roister Doister in that he doth say, And require what ye will, ye shall have no nay. But now of Roister Doister somewhat to express, That ye may esteem him after his worthiness, In these twenty towns, and seek him throughout, Is not the like stock whereon to graff a lout. All the day long is he facing and craking[40] Of his great acts in fighting and fray-making; But when Roister Doister is put to his proof, To keep the Queen's peace[41] is more for his behoof. If any woman smile, or cast him an eye, Up is he to the hard ears in love by and by: And in all the hot haste must she be his wife, Else farewell his good days, and farewell his life! Master Ralph Roister Doister is but dead and gone, Except she on him take some compassion. Then chief of council must be Matthew Merrygreek! What, if I for marriage to such an one seek? Then must I sooth[42] it, whatever it is; For what he saith or doth cannot be amiss. Hold by his yea and nay, be his nown white son:[43] Praise and rouse him well, and ye have his heart won; For so well liketh he his own fond fashions, That he taketh pride of false commendations. But such sport have I with him, as I would not lese, Though I should be bound to live with bread and cheese. For exalt him and have him as ye lust indeed; Yea, to hold his finger in a hole for a need. I can with a word make him fain or loth; I can with as much make him pleased or wroth; I can, when I will, make him merry and glad; I can, when me lust, make him sorry and sad; I can set him in hope, and eke in despair; I can make him speak rough, and make him speak fair. But I marvel I see him not all this same day: I will seek him out. But lo! he cometh this way. I have yond espied him sadly coming, And in love, for twenty pound, by his gloming.[44]

R. Roister. Come, death, when thou wilt: I am weary of my life. M. Merry. I told you, I, we should woo another wife. [Aside. R. Roister. Why did God make me such a goodly person? M. Merry. He is in, by the week; we shall have sport anon. [Aside. R. Roister. And where is my trusty friend, Matthew Merrygreek? M. Merry. I will make as I saw him not; he doth me seek. [Aside. R. Roister. I have him espied, me-thinketh; yond is he; Ho! Matthew Merrygreek, my friend, a word with thee. M. Merry. I will not hear him, but make as I had haste. [Aside. Farewell, all my good friends, the time away doth waste; And the tide, they say, tarrieth for no man. R. Roister. Thou must with thy good counsel help me, if thou can. M. Merry. God keep thee, worshipful Master Roister Doister, And farewell the lusty Master Roister Doister. R. Roister. I must needs speak with thee a word or twain. M. Merry. Within a month or two I will be here again. Negligence in great affairs, ye know, may mar all. R. Roister. Attend upon me now, and well reward thee I shall. M. Merry. I have take my leave, and the tide is well-spent. R. Roister. I die, except thou help; I pray thee be content. Do thy part well now, and ask what thou wilt; For without thy aid my matter is all spilt. M. Merry. Then to serve your turn I will some pains take, And let all mine own affairs alone for your sake. R. Roister. My whole hope and trust resteth only in thee. M. Merry. Then can ye not do amiss, whatever it be. R. Roister. Gramercies, Merrygreek, most bound to thee I am. M. Merry. But up with that heart, and speak out like a ram; Ye speak like a capon that had the cough now: Be of good cheer; anon ye shall do well enou'. R. Roister. Upon thy comfort I will all things well handle. M. Merry. So, lo! that is a breast to blow out a candle.[45] But what is this great matter, I would fain know? We shall find remedy therefore, I trow. Do ye lack money? ye know mine old offers: Ye have always a key to my purse and coffers. R. Roister. I thank thee: had ever man such a friend! M. Merry. Ye give unto me: I must needs to you lend. R. Roister. Nay, I have money plenty all things to discharge. M. Merry (aside). That knew I right well, when I made offer so large. R. Roister. But it is no such matter. M. Merry. What is it, then? Are ye in danger of debt[46] to any man? If ye be, take no thought, nor be not afraid; Let them hardily take thought[47] how they shall be paid. R. Roister. Tut, I owe nought. M. Merry. What then? fear ye imprisonment? R. Roister. No. M. Merry. No; I wist ye offend not so to be shent; But, if ye had, the Tower could not you so hold, But to break out at all times ye would be bold. What is it? hath any man threatened you to beat? R. Roister. What is he that durst have put me in that heat? He that beateth me, by His arms,[48] shall well find That I will not be far from him, nor run behind. M. Merry. That thing know all men, ever since ye overthrew The fellow of the lion which Hercules slew. But what is it then? R. Roister. Of love I make my moan. M. Merry. Ah, this foolish love! wil't ne'er let us alone? But, because ye were refused the last day, Ye said ye would ne'er more be entangled that way! I would meddle no more, since I find all so unkind. R. Roister. Yea, but I cannot so put love out of my mind. M. Merry. But is your love, tell me first, in any wise In the way of marriage or of merchandise? If it may otherwise than lawful be found, Ye get none of my help for an hundred pound. R. Roister. No, by my troth, I would have her to my wife. M. Merry. Then are ye a good man, and God save your life! And what or who is she, with whom ye are in love? R. Roister. A woman, whom I know not by what means to move. M. Merry. Who is it? R. Roister. A woman yond. M. Merry. What is her name? R. Roister. Her yonder. M. Merry. Whom? R. Roister. Mistress, ah— M. Merry. Fy, fy for shame! Love ye, and know not whom? but her yond! a woman! We shall then get you a wife, I cannot tell when. R. Roister. The fair woman that supped with us yesternight; And I heard her name twice or thrice, and had it right. M. Merry. Yea, ye may see ye ne'er take me to good cheer with you: If ye had, I could have told you her name now. R. Roister. I was to blame indeed, but the next time perchance— And she dwelleth in this house— M. Merry. What, Christian Custance? R. Roister. Except I have her to my wife, I, I shall run mad. M. Merry. Nay, unwise perhaps; but I warrant you for mad.[49] R. Roister. I am utterly dead, unless I have my desire. M. Merry. Where be the bellows that blew this sudden fire? R. Roister. I hear she is worth a thousand pound and more. M. Merry. Yea, but learn this one lesson of me afore: An hundred pound of marriage-money, doubtless, Is ever thirty pound sterling, or somewhat less;[50] So that her thousand pound, if she be thrifty, Is much near[51] about two hundred and fifty. Howbeit, wooers and widows are never poor. R. Roister. Is she a widow? I love her better therefore. M. Merry. But I hear she hath made promise to another. R. Roister. He shall go without her, and he were my brother. M. Merry. I have heard say, I am right well advised, That she hath to Gawin Goodluck promised. R. Roister. What is that Gawin Goodluck? M. Merry. A merchant-man. R. Roister. Shall he speed afore me? Nay, sir, by sweet Saint Anne! Ah, sir! Backare, quod Mortimer to his sow:[52] I will have her mine own self, I make God a vow; For, I tell thee, she is worth a thousand pound. M. Merry. Yet a fitter wife for your maship[53] might be found; Such a goodly man as you might get one with land, Besides pounds of gold a thousand and a thousand, And a thousand and a thousand and a thousand, And so to the sum of twenty hundred thousand: Your most goodly personage is worthy of no less. R. Roister. I am sorry God made me so comely, doubtless; For that maketh me each where so highly favoured, And all women on me so enamoured. M. Merry. Enamoured, quod you? have ye spied out that? Ah, sir, marry, now I see you know what is what. Enamoured, ka?[54] marry, sir, say that again; But I thought not ye had marked it so plain. R. Roister. Yes, each where they gaze all upon me, and stare. M. Merry. Yea, malkin, I warrant you, as much as they dare. And ye will not believe what they say in the street, When your maship passeth by, all such as I meet, That sometimes I can scarce find what answer to make. Who is this? (saith one) Sir Launcelot du Lake?[55] Who is this? Great Guy of Warwick, saith another? No (say I), it is the thirteenth Hercules brother. Who is this? noble Hector of Troy? saith the third: No, but of the same nest (say I) it is a bird. Who is this? great Goliah, Sampson, or Colbrand? No (say I), but it is a brute of the aly land.[56] Who is this? great Alexander or Charlemagne? No, it is the tenth Worthy, say I to them again: I know not if I said well— R. Roister. Yes, for so I am. M. Merry. Yea, for there were but nine worthies, before ye came. To some others the third Cato I do you call;[57] And so, as well as I can, I answer them all. Sir, I pray you what lord or great gentleman is this? Master Ralph Roister Doister, dame (say I), i-wis. O Lord (saith she then), what a goodly man it is! Would Christ I had such a husband as he is! O Lord (say some), that the sight of his face we lack! It is enough for you (say I) to see his back; His face is for ladies of high and noble parages,[58] With whom he hardly 'scapeth great marriages. With much more than this and much otherwise. R. Roister. I can thee thank,[59] that thou canst such answers devise: But I perceive thou dost me throughly know. M. Merry. I mark your manners for mine own learning, I trow. But such is your beauty, and such are your acts, Such is your personage, and such are your facts,[60] That all women, fair and foul, more and less, They eye you, they lub[61] you, they talk of you doubtless. Your pleasant look maketh them all merry: Ye pass not by, but they laugh, till they be weary: Yea, and money could I have, the truth to tell, Of many, to bring you that way where they dwell. R. Roister. Merrygreek, for this thy reporting well of me— M. Merry. What should I else, sir? it is my duty, pardè. R. Roister. I promise thou shalt not lack, while I have a groat. M. Merry. Faith, sir, and I ne'er had more need of a new coat. R. Roister. Thou shalt have one to-morrow, and gold for to spend. M. Merry. Then I trust to bring the day to a good end. For as for mine own part, having money enou', I could live only with the remembrance of you— But now to your widow, whom you love so hot— R. Roister. By Cock, thou sayest truth, I had almost forgot. M. Merry. What, if Christian Custance will not have you, what? R. Roister. Have me? yes, I warrant you, never doubt of that: I know she loveth me, but she dare not speak. M. Merry. Indeed, meet it were somebody should it break. R. Roister. She looked on me twenty times yesternight, And laughed so— M. Merry. That she could not sit upright. R. Roister. No, faith, could she not. M. Merry. No, even such a thing I cast.[62] R. Roister. But for wooing, thou knowest, women are shamefast. But, and she knew my mind, I know she would be glad, And think it the best chance that ever she had. M. Merry. To her, then, like a man, and be bold forth to start: Wooers never speed well, that have a false heart. R. Roister. What may I best do? M. Merry. Sir, remain ye awhile [here];[63] Ere long one or other of her house will appear. Ye know my mind. R. Roister. Yea, now hardily let me alone. M. Merry. In the meantime, sir, if you please, I will home, And call your musicians; for in this your case It would set you forth, and all your wooing grace, Ye may not lack your instruments to play and sing. R. Roister. Thou knowest I can do that— M. Merry. As well as anything. Shall I go call your folks, that we may show a cast? R. Roister. Yea, run, I beseech thee, in all possible haste, M. Merry. I go. [Exeat. R. Roister. Yea, for I love singing out of measure, It comforteth my spirits, and doth me great pleasure. But who cometh forth yond from my sweetheart Custance? My matter frameth well; this is a lucky chance.

M. Mumbl. If this distaff were spun, Margery Mumblecrust— Tib. Talk. Where good stale ale is, will drink no water, I trust. M. Mumbl. Dame Custance hath promised us good ale and white bread. Tib. Talk. If she keep not promise, I will beshrew her head. But it will be stark night, before I shall have done. R. Roister (aside). I will stand here awhile, and talk with them anon. I hear them speak of Custance, which doth my heart good; To hear her name spoken doth even comfort my blood. M. Mumbl. Sit down to your work, Tibet, like a good girl. Tib. Talk. Nurse, meddle you with your spindle and your whirl. No haste but good, Madge Mumblecrust; for whip and whur,[65] The old proverb doth say, never made good fur. M. Mumbl. Well, ye will sit down to your work anon, I trust. Tib. Talk. Soft fire maketh sweet malt,[66] good Madge Mumblecrust, M. Mumbl. And sweet malt maketh jolly good ale for the nonce. Tib. Talk. Which will slide down the lane[67] without any bones. [Cantet.[68] Old brown-bread crusts must have much good mumbling; But good ale down your throat hath good easy tumbling. R. Roister (aside). The jolliest wench that ere I heard! Little mouse, May I not rejoice that she shall dwell in my house?

Tib. Talk. And though your teeth be gone, both so sharp and so fine, Yet your tongue can renne on pattens as well as mine.

R. Roister (aside). See what a sort she keepeth, that must be my wife: Shall not I, when I have her, lead a merry life?

Tib. Talk. So would I, if you could your clattering cease; But the devil cannot make old trot hold her tongue. An. Alyface. Let all these matters pass, and we three sing a song: So shall we pleasantly both the time beguile now, And eke despatch all our works, ere we can tell how. Tib. Talk. I shrew them that say nay, and that shall not be I. M. Mumbl. And I am well content. Tib. Talk. Sing on then by and by. R. Roister (aside). And I will not away, but listen to their song; Yet Merrygreek and my folks tarry very long. Tib., An., and Margery do sing here.[72] Pipe, merry Annot, &c. Trilla, Trilla, Trillary. Work, Tibet; work, Annot; work, Margery; Sew, Tibet; knit, Annot; spin, Margery. Let us see who will win the victory. Tib. Talk. This sleeve is not willing to be sewed, I trow. A small thing might make me all in the ground to throw. Then they sing again. Pipe, merry Annot, &c. Trilla, Trilla, Trillary. What, Tibet! what, Annot! what, Margery! Ye sleep, but we do not, that shall we try, Your fingers be numbed, our work will not lie. Tib. Talk. If ye do so again—well, I would advise you nay: In good sooth, one stop more, and I make holyday! They sing the third time. Pipe, merry Annot, &c. Trilla, Trilla, Trillary. Now, Tibbet; now, Annot; now, Margery; Now whippet apace for the maistry: But it will not be, our mouth is so dry. Tib Talk. Ah, each finger is a thumb to-day, me-think: I care not to let all alone, choose it swim or sink. They sing the fourth time. Pipe, merry Annot, &c. Trilla, Trilla, Trillary. When, Tibbet? when, Annot? when, Margery? I will not,—I can not,—no more can I. Then give we all over, and there let it lie! [Let her cast down her work. Tib. Talk. There it lieth! the worst is but a curried coat. Tut, I am used thereto: I care not a groat. An. Alyface. Have we done singing since? then will I in again: Here I found you, and here I leave both twain. [Exeat. M. Mumbl. And I will not be long after. Tib. Talkapace! [She discovers R. Roister Doister. Tib. Talk. What is the matter? M. Mumbl. Yond stood a man all this space, And hath heard all that ever we spake together. Tib. Talk. Marry, the more lout he for his coming hither, And the less good he can to listen maidens talk. I care not, and I go bid him hence for to walk: It were well done to know what he maketh here-away. R. Roister. Now might I speak to them, if I wist what to say. [Aside. M. Mumbl. Nay, we will go both of's, and see what he is. R. Roister (coming forward). One that heard all your talk and singing, i-wis. Tib. Talk. The more to blame you: a good thrifty husband Would elsewhere have had some better matters in hand. R. Roister. I did it for no harm; but for good love I bear To your dame Mistress Custance I did your talk hear. And, mistress nurse, I will kiss you for acquaintance. M. Mumbl. I come anon, sir. Tib. Talk. Faith, I would our dame Custance Saw this gear. M. Mumbl. I must first wipe all clean, yea, I must. Tib. Talk. Ill 'chieve it, doting fool, but it must be cust. M. Mumbl. God 'ield you, sir; chad not so much, i-chotte not when: Ne'er since chwas born, chwine,[73] of such a gay gentleman. R. Roister. I will kiss you too, maiden, for the good will I bear ye. Tib. Talk. No, forsooth, by your leave, ye shall not kiss me. R. Roister. Yes, be not afeard; I do not disdain you a whit. Tib. Talk. Why should I fear you? I have not so little wit; Ye are but a man, I know very well. R. Roister. Why, then? Tib. Talk. Forsooth, for I will not: I use not to kiss men. R. Roister. I would fain kiss you too, good maiden, if I might. Tib. Talk. What should that need? R. Roister. But to honour you, by this light. I use to kiss all them that I love, to God I vow. Tib. Talk. Yea, sir? I pray you, when did ye last kiss your cow? R. Roister. Ye might be proud to kiss me, if ye were wise. Tib. Talk. What promotion were therein? R. Roister. Nurse is not so nice. Tib. Talk. Well, I have not been taught to kissing and licking. R. Roister. Yet, I thank you, mistress nurse, ye made no sticking. M. Mumbl. I will not stick for a koss with such a man as you. Tib. Talk. They that lust!—I will again to my sewing now. An. Alyface.[74] Tidings, ho! tidings! dame Custance greeteth you well. R. Roister. Whom? me? An. Alyface. You, sir? No, sir: I do no such tale tell. R. Roister. But, and she knew me here!— An. Alyface. Tibet Talkapace, Your mistress Custance and mine must speak with your grace. Tib. Talk. With me? An. Alyface. You must come in to her, out of all doubts. Tib. Talk. And my work not half-done? a mischief on all louts! [Ex. amb. R. Roister. Ah, good sweet nurse! M. Mumbl. Ah, good sweet gentleman! R. Roister. Who?[75] M. Mumbl. Nay, I cannot tell, sir, but what thing would you? R. Roister. How doth sweet Custance, my heart of gold, tell me how? M. Mumbl. She doth very well, sir, and command[s] me to you. R. Roister. To me? M. Mumbl. Yea, to you, sir. R. Roister. To me? nurse, tell me plain, M. Mumbl. Yea. R. Roister. That word maketh me alive again. M. Mumbl. She command[ed] me to one last day, whoe'er it was. R. Roister. That was e'en to me and none other, by the mass. M. Mumbl. I cannot tell you surely, but one it was. R. Roister. It was I and none other—this cometh to good pass. I promise thee, nurse, I favour her. M. Mumbl. E'en so, sir? R. Roister. Bid her sue to me for marriage. M. Mumbl. E'en so, sir? R. Roister. And surely for thy sake she shall speed. M. Mumbl. E'en so, sir? R. Roister. I shall be contented to take her. M. Mumbl. E'en so, sir? R. Roister. But at thy request and for thy sake. M. Mumbl. E'en so, sir? R. Roister. And, come, hark in thine ear what to say. M. Mumbl. E'en so, sir? [Here let him tell her a great long tale in her ear.

M. Merry. Come on, sirs, apace, and 'quit yourselves like men. Your pains shall be rewarded. D. Dough. But, I wot not when. M. Merry. Do your master worship, as ye have done in time past. D. Dough. Speak to them: of mine office he shall have a cast. M. Merry. Harpax, look that thou do well too, and thy fellow. Harpax. I warrant, if he will mine example follow. M. Merry. Court'sy, whoresons: duck you and crouch at every word. D. Dough. Yes, whether our master speak earnest or bord.[76] M. Merry. For this lieth upon his preferment indeed. D. Dough. Oft is he a wooer, but never doth he speed. M. Merry. But with whom is he now so sadly rounding[77] yond? D. Dough. With Nobs nicebectur miserere[78] fond. M. Merry. God be at your wedding: be ye sped already? I did not suppose that your love was so greedy. I perceive now ye have chose of devotion; And joy have ye, lady, of your promotion! R. Roister. Tush, fool, thou art deceived, this is not she. M. Merry. Well, mock[79] much of her, and keep her well, I 'vise ye. I will take no charge of such a fair piece keeping. M. Mumbl. What aileth this fellow? he driveth me to weeping. M. Merry. What, weep on the wedding-day? be merry, woman: Though I say it, ye have chose a good gentleman. R. Roister. Kock's nowns,[80] what meanest thou, man? tut, a whistle. M. Merry. Ah, sir, be good to her; she is but a gristle: Ah, sweet lamb and coney! R. Roister. Tut, thou art deceived. M. Merry. Weep no more, lady, ye shall be well received. Up with some merry noise,[81] sirs, to bring home the bride! R. Roister. Gog's arms, knave, art thou mad? I tell thee thou art wide. M. Merry. Then, ye intend by night to have her home brought. R. Roister. I tell thee, no. M. Merry. How then? R. Roister. 'Tis neither meant ne thought. M. Merry. What shall we then do with her? R. Roister. Ah, foolish harebrain, This is not she. M. Merry. No, is [not]. Why, then, unsaid again! And what young girl is this with your maship so bold? R. Roister. A girl? M. Merry. Yea, I daresay, scarce yet threescore year old. R. Roister. This same is the fair widow's nurse, of whom ye wot. M. Merry. Is she but a nurse of a house? hence home, old trot! Hence at once! R. Roister. No, no. M. Merry. What, an' please your maship, A nurse talk so homely with one of your worship? R. Roister. I will have it so; it is my pleasure and will. M. Merry. Then I am content. Nurse, come again, tarry still. R. Roister. What, she will help forward this my suit, for her part. M. Merry. Then is't mine own pigsny, and blessing on my heart! R. Roister. This is our best friend, man. M. Merry. Then teach her what to say. M. Mumbl. I am taught already. M. Merry. Then go, make no delay. R. Roister. Yet hark, one word in thine ear. M. Merry. Back, sirs, from his tail! R. Roister. Back, villains; will ye be privy of my counsel? M. Merry. Back, sirs! So. I told you afore ye would be shent. R. Roister. She shall have the first day a whole peck of argent. M. Mumbl. A peck! Nomine Patris, have ye so much spare? R. Roister. Yea, and a cart-load thereto, or else were it bare; Besides other moveables, household stuff and land. M. Mumbl. Have ye lands too? R. Roister. An hundred marks. M. Merry. Yea, a thousand. M. Mumbl. And have ye cattle too? and sheep too? R. Roister. Yea, a few. M. Merry. He is ashamed the number of them to show. E'en round about him as many thousand sheep goes, As he and thou, and I too, have fingers and toes. M. Mumbl. And how many years old be you? R. Roister. Forty at least. M. Merry. Yea, and thrice forty to them. R. Roister. Nay, thou dost jest. I am not so old: thou misreckonest my years. M. Merry. I know that; but my mind was on bullocks and steers. M. Mumbl. And what shall I show her your mastership's name is? R. Roister. Nay, she shall make suit, ere she know that, i-wis. M. Mumbl. Yet let me somewhat know. M. Merry. This is he, understand That killed the blue spider in Blanchepowder land. M. Mumbl. Yea, Jesus, William, zee, law! did he zo, law? M. Merry. Yea, and the last elephant that ever he saw, As the beast passed by, he start out of a busk,[82] And e'en with pure strength of arms plucked out his great tusk. M. Mumbl. Jesus, Nomine Patris, what a thing was that! R. Roister. Yea, but, Merrygreek, one thing thou hast forgot. M. Merry. What? R. Roister. Of th' other elephant. M. Merry. O, him that fled away? R. Roister. Yea. M. Merry. Yea, he knew that his match was in place that day. Tut, he bet the King of Crickets on Christmas-day, That he crept in a hole, and not a word to say. M. Mumbl. A sore man, by zembletee.[83] M. Merry. Why, he wrong a club Once in a fray out of the hand of Belzebub. R. Roister. And how when Mumfision— M. Merry. O, your costreling Bore the lantern a-field so before the gozeling—— Nay, that is too long a matter now to be told. Never ask his name, nurse, I warrant thee, be bold: He conquered in one day from Rome to Naples, And won towns, nurse, as fast as thou canst make apples. M. Mumbl. O Lord! my heart quaketh for fear, he is so sore. R. Roister. Thou makest her too much afeard, Merrygreek; no more. This tale would fear my sweetheart Custance right evil. M. Merry. Nay, let her take him, nurse, and fear not the devil. But thus is our song dasht—sirs, ye may home again. [To the music. R. Roister. No, shall they not. I charge you all here to remain: The villain slaves!—a whole day, ere they can be found! M. Merry. Couch on your marybones, whoresons, down to the ground! Was it meet he should tarry so long in one place, Without harmony of music or some solace? Whoso hath such bees as your master in his head Had need to have his spirits with music be fed. By your mastership's licence— R. Roister. What is that? a mote! M. Merry. No, it was a fowl's feather had light on your coat. R. Roister. I was nigh no feathers, since I came from my bed. M. Merry. No, sir, it was a hair that was fall from your head. R. Roister. My men come, when it please them. M. Merry. By your leave— R. Roister. What is that? M. Merry. Your gown was foul spotted with the foot[84] of a gnat. R. Roister. Their master to offend they are nothing afeard. What now? M. Merry. A lousy hair from your mastership's beard. And sir, for nurse's sake, pardon this one offence. Omnes Famulæ. We shall not after this show the like negligence. R. Roister. I pardon you this once; and, come, sing ne'er the worse. M. Merry. How like you the goodness of this gentleman, nurse? M. Mumbl. God save his mastership, that can so his men forgive! And I will hear them sing, ere I go, by his leave. R. Roister. Marry, and thou shalt, wench: come, we two will dance. M. Mumbl. Nay, I will by mine own self foot the song perchance. R. Roister. Go it, sirs, lustily. [Retires to write a letter. M. Mumbl. Pipe up a merry note. Let me hear it played, I will foot it for a groat. [Cantent.[85] R. Roister. Now, nurse, take this same letter here to thy mistress; And as my trust is in thee, ply my business. M. Mumbl. It shall be done. M. Merry. Who made it? R. Roister. I wrote it each whit. M. Merry. Then needs it no mending? R. Roister. No, no. M. Merry. No, I know your wit. R. Roister. I warrant it well. M. Mumbl. It shall be delivered; But, if ye speed, shall I be considered? M. Merry. Whough! dost thou doubt of that? M. Mumbl. What shall I have? M. Merry. An hundred times more than thou canst devise to crave. M. Mumbl. Shall I have some new gear, for my old is all spent? M. Merry. The worst kitchen wench shall go in ladies' raiment. M. Mumbl. Yea? M. Merry. And the worst drudge in the house shall go better Than your mistress doth now. M. Mumbl. Then I trudge with your letter. R. Roister. Now may I repose me: Custance is mine own. Let us sing and play homeward, that it may be known. M. Merry. But are you sure that your letter is well enough? R. Roister. I wrote it myself. M. Merry. Then sing we to dinner. [Here they sing, and go out singing.

C. Custance. Who took thee this letter, Margery Mumblecrust? M. Mumbl. A lusty gay bachelor took it me of trust, And if ye seek to him, he will love your doing. C. Custance. Yea, but where learned he that manner of wooing? M. Mumbl. If to sue to him you will any pains take, He will have you to his wife (he saith) for my sake. C. Custance. Some wise gentleman belike: I am bespoken. And I thought verily this had been some token From my dear spouse,[86] Gawin Goodluck, whom when him please, God luckily send home to both our hearts' ease! M. Mumbl. A jolly man it is, I wot well by report, And would have you to him for marriage resort. Best open the writing, and see what it doth speak. C. Custance. At this time, nurse, I will neither read ne break. M. Mumbl. He promised to give you a whole peck of gold. C. Custance. Perchance, [t'will] lack of a pint, when it shall be all told. M. Mumbl. I would take a gay rich husband, and I were you. C. Custance. In good sooth, Madge, e'en so would I, if I were thou.[87] But no more of this fond talk now; let us go in, And see thou no more move me folly to begin; Nor bring me no mo letters for no man's pleasure, But thou know from whom. M. Mumbl. I warrant, ye shall be sure.

D. Dough. Where is the house I go to, before or behind? I know not where nor when, nor how I shall it find. If I had ten men's bodies and legs, and strength, This trotting that I have must needs lame me at length. And now that my master is new-set on wooing, I trust there shall none of us find lack of doing: Two pair of shoes a day will now be too little To serve me, I must trot to and fro so mickle. "Go bear me this token;" "carry me this letter;" Now this is the best way; now that way is better. "Up before day, sirs, I charge you, an hour or twain; Trudge, do me this message, and bring word quick again." If one miss but a minute, then, "His arms and wounds, I would not have slacked for ten thousand pounds! Nay see, I beseech you, if my most trusty page Go not now about to hinder my marriage." So fervent hot wooing, and so far from wiving, I trow, never was any creature living; With every woman is he in some love's-pang; Then up to our lute at midnight, twangledom twang. Then twang with our sonnets, and twang with our dumps,[89] And heigho from our heart, as heavy as lead-lumps. Then to our recorder[90] with toodleloodle poop, As the howlet out of an ivy bush should hoop. Anon to our gittern,[91] thrumpledum thrumpledum thrum, Thrumpledum, thrumpledum, thrumpledum, thrumpledum, thrum. Of songs and ballads also he is a maker, And that can he as finely do as Jack Raker;[92] Yea, and extempore will he ditties compose; Foolish Marsias ne'er made the like, I suppose; Yet must we sing them, as good stuff, I undertake, As for such a pen-man is well fitting to make. "Ah, for these long nights! heigho! when will it be day? I fear, ere I come, she will be wooed away." Then, when answer is made, that it may not be, "O death, why comest thou not?" by and by saith he. But then from his heart to put away sorrow, He is as far in with some new love next morrow. But, in the mean season, we trudge and we trot: From dayspring to midnight I sit not nor rest not. And now am I sent to dame Christian Custance; But I fear it will end with a mock for pastance.[93] I bring her a ring with a token in a clout, And by all guess this same is her house out of doubt. I know it now perfect, I am in my right way; And lo! yond the old nurse that was with us last day.

M. Mumbl. I was ne'er so shoke[94] up afore, since I was born: That our mistress could not have had chid, I would have sworn. And I pray God I die, if I meant any harm; But for my lifetime this shall be to me a charm. D. Dough. God you save and see, nurse! and how is it with you? M. Mumbl. Marry, a great deal the worse it is for such as thou. D. Dough. For me? Why so? M. Mumbl. Why, were not thou one of them, say, That sang and played here with the gentleman last day? D. Dough. Yes, and he would know, if you have for him spoken, And prays you to deliver this ring and token. M. Mumbl. Now, by the token that God tokened, brother, I will deliver no token, one nor other. I have once been so shent for your master's pleasure, As I will not be again for all his treasure. D. Dough. He will thank you, woman. M. Mumbl. I will none of his thank. [Exit M. Mumbl.[95] D. Dough. I ween I am a prophet; this gear will prove blank. But what, should I home again without answer go? It were better go to Rome on my head than so[96]. I will tarry here this month, but some of the house Shall take it of me, and then I care not a louse. But yonder cometh forth a wench or a lad: If he have not one Lombard's touch[97], my luck is bad.

Truepenny. I am clean lost for lack of merry company; We 'gree not half well within, our wenches and I: They will command like mistresses, they will forbid; If they be not served, Truepenny must be chid. Let them be as merry now, as ye can desire: With turning of a hand our mirth lieth in the mire. I cannot skill of such changeable mettle, There is nothing with them but, In dock, out nettle.[98] D. Dough. Whether is it better that I speak to him first, Or he first to me? It is good to cast the worst. If I begin first, he will smell all my purpose: Otherwise I shall not need anything to disclose. [Aside. Truepenny. What boy have we yonder? I will see what he is. D. Dough. He cometh to me. It is hereabout, i-wis. [Aside. Truepenny. Wouldest thou ought, friend, that thou lookest so about? D. Dough. Yea; but whether ye can help me or no, I doubt. I seek to one Mistress Custance house here dwelling. Truepenny. It is my mistress ye seek to, by your telling. D. Dough. Is there any of that name here but she? Truepenny. Not one in all the whole town that I know, pardè. D. Dough. A widow she is, I trow. Truepenny. And what, and she be? D. Dough. But ensured to an husband? Truepenny. Yea, so think we. D. Dough. And I dwell with her husband that trusteth to be. Truepenny. In faith, then must thou needs be welcome to me. Let us, for acquaintance, shake hands together, And, whate'er thou be, heartily welcome hither. Tib. Talk.[99] Well, Truepenny, never but flinging? An. Alyface. And frisking? Truepenny. Well, Tibet and Annot, still swinging and whisking? Tib. Talk. But ye roil abroad. An. Alyface. In the street everywhere. Truepenny. Where are ye twain? in chambers, when ye meet me there? But come hither, fools: I have one now by the hand, Servant to him that must be our mistress' husband; Bid him welcome. An. Alyface. To me truly he is welcome. Tib. Talk. Forsooth and, as I may say, heartily welcome. D. Dough. I thank you, mistress maids. An. Alyface. I hope we shall better know. Tib. Talk. And when will our new master come? D. Dough. Shortly, I trow. Tib. Talk. I would it were to-morrow; for, till he resort, Our mistress, being a widow, hath small comfort: And I heard our nurse speak of an husband to-day, Ready for our mistress; a rich man and a gay. And we shall go in our French hoods every day: In our silk cassocks (I warrant you) fresh and gay; In our trick ferdegews and billiments of gold; Brave in our suits of change, seven double fold. Then shall ye see Tibet, sirs, tread the moss so trim; Nay, why said I tread? ye shall see her glide and swim; Not lumperdy-clumperdy, like our spaniel Rig. Truepenny. Marry, then, prick-me-dainty; come, toast me a fig. Who shall then know our Tib Talkapace, trow ye? An. Alyface. And why not Annot Alyface as fine as she? Truepenny. And what, had Tom Truepenny a father or none? An. Alyface. Then our pretty new-come-man will look to be one. Truepenny. We four, I trust, shall be a jolly merry knot. Shall we sing a fit[100] to welcome our friend, Annot? An. Alyface. Perchance, he cannot sing. D. Dough. I am at all assays. Tib. Talk. By Cock, and the better welcome to us always. Here they sing: A thing very fit For them that have wit, And are fellows knit, Servants in one house to be; As fast for to sit, And not oft to flit, Nor vary a whit, But lovingly to agree. No man complaining, No other disdaining, For loss or for gaining. But fellows or friends to be; No grudge remaining, No work refraining, Nor help restraining, But lovingly to agree. No man for despite, By word or by write, His fellow to twite, But further in honesty; No good turns entwite, Nor old sores recite, But let all go quite, And lovingly to agree. After drudgery, When they be weary, Then to be merry, To laugh and sing they be free; With chip and cherry, Heigh derry derry, Trill on the bery, And lovingly to agree. Tib. Talk. Will you now in with us unto our mistress go? D. Dough. I have first for my master an errand or two. But I have here from him a token and a ring; They shall have most thank of her, that first doth it bring. Tib. Talk. Marry, that will I. Truepenny. See, and Tibet snatch not now! Tib. Talk. And why may not I, sir, get thanks as well as you? [Exit. An. Alyface. Yet get ye not all, we will go with you both, And have part of your thanks, be ye never so loth. [Exit omnes. D. Dough. So my hands are rid of it, I care for no more. I may now return home: so durst I not afore. [Exit.

C. Custance. Nay, come forth all three; and come hither, pretty maid: Will not so many forewarnings make you afraid? Tib. Talk. Yes, forsooth. C. Custance. But still be a runner up and down? Still be a bringer of tidings and tokens to town? Tib. Talk. No, forsooth, mistress. C. Custance. Is all your delight and joy In whisking and ramping abroad, like a Tom-boy? Tib. Talk. Forsooth, these were there too, Annot and Truepenny. Truepenny. Yea, but ye alone took it, ye cannot deny. An. Alyface. Yea, that ye did. Tib. Talk. But, if I had not, ye twain would. C. Custance. You great calf, ye should have more wit, so ye should. [To Truep. But why should any of you take such things in hand? Tib. Talk. Because it came from him that must be your husband. C. Custance. How do ye know that? Tib. Talk. Forsooth, the boy did say so. C. Custance. What was his name? An. Alyface. We asked not. C. Custance. No, did [ye not?] An. Alyface. He is not far gone, of likelihood. Truepenny. I will see. C. Custance. If thou canst find him in the street, bring him to me. Truepenny. Yes. [Exeat. C. Custance. Well, ye naughty girls, if ever I perceive That henceforth you do letters or tokens receive, To bring unto me from any person or place, Except ye first show me the party face to face, Either thou, or thou, full truly abi'[101] thou shalt. Tib. Talk. Pardon this, and the next time powder me in salt. C. Custance. I shall make all girls by you twain to beware. Tib. Talk. If I ever offend again, do not me spare. But if ever I see that false boy any more, By your mistresship's licence, I tell you afore, I will rather have my coat twenty times swinged, Than on the naughty wag not to be avenged. C. Custance. Good wenches would not so ramp abroad idly, But keep within doors, and ply their work earnestly. If one would speak with me, that is a man likely, Ye shall have right good thank to bring me word quickly; But otherwise with messages to come in post, From henceforth I promise you shall be to your cost. Get you into your work. Tib. and Annot. Yes, forsooth. C. Custance. Hence, both twain. And let me see you play me such a part again! [Ex. Tib. and Annot. Truepenny (re-entering). Mistress, I have run past the far end of the street, Yet can I not yonder crafty boy see nor meet. C. Custance. No! Truepenny. Yet I looked as far beyond the people As one may see out of the top of Paul's steeple. C. Custance. Hence, in at doors, and let me no more be vext! Truepenny. Forgive me this one fault, and lay on for the next.[102] C. Custance. Now will I in too, for I think, so God me mend, This will prove some foolish matter in the end. [Exeat.

M. Merry. Now say this again: he hath somewhat to doing Which followeth the trace of one that is wooing; Specially that hath no more wit in his head, Than my cousin Roister Doister withal is led. I am sent in all haste to espy and to mark, How our letters and tokens are likely to wark. Master Roister Doister must have answer in haste, For he loveth not to spend much labour in waste. Now as for Christian Custance, by this light, Though she had not her troth to Gawin Goodluck plight, Yet rather than with such a loutish dolt to marry, I daresay would live a poor life solitary. But fain would I speak with Custance, if I wist how, To laugh at the matter. Yond cometh one forth now.

Tib. Talk. Ah! that I might but once in my life have a sight Of him who made us all so ill-shent! By this light, He should never escape, if I had him by the ear, But even from his head I would it bite or tear. Yea, and if one of them were not enou', I would bite them both off, I make God avow. M. Merry. What is he, whom this little mouse doth so threaten? [Aside. Tib. Talk. I would teach him, I trow, to make girls shent or beaten. M. Merry. I will call her. Maid, with whom are ye so hasty? Tib. Talk. Not with you, sir, but with a little wage-pasty; A deceiver of folks by subtle craft and guile. M. Merry. I know where she is: Dobinet hath wrought some wile. Tib. Talk. He brought a ring and token, which he said was sent From our dame's husband, but I wot well I was shent; From our dame's husband, but I wot well I was shent; For it liked her as well (to tell you no lies) As water in a[103] ship, or salt cast in her eyes: And yet, whence it came, neither we nor she can tell. M. Merry. We shall have sport anon: I like this very well. [Aside. And dwell ye here with mistress Custance, fair maid? Tib. Talk. Yea, marry do I, sir: what would ye have said? M. Merry. A little message unto her, by word of mouth. Tib. Talk. No messages, by your leave, nor tokens forsooth. M. Merry. Then help me to speak with her. Tib. Talk. With a good will that. Here she cometh forth. Now speak—ye know best what. C. Custance. None other life with you, maid, but abroad to skip? Tib. Talk. Forsooth, here is one would speak with your mistresship. C. Custance. Ah, have ye been learning of mo messages now? Tib. Talk. I would not hear his mind, but bad him show it to you. C. Custance. In at doors! Tib. Talk. I am gone. [Exit. M. Merry. Dame Custance, God ye save! C. Custance. Welcome, friend Merrygreek; and what thing would ye have? M. Merry. I am come to you a little matter to break. C. Custance. But see it be honest, else better not to speak. M. Merry. How feel ye yourself affected here of late? C. Custance. I feel no manner change, but after the old rate. But whereby do ye mean? M. Merry. Concerning marriage. Doth not love lade you? C. Custance. I feel no such carriage. M. Merry. Do ye feel no pangs of dotage? Answer me right. C. Custance. I doat so, that I make but one sleep all the night. But what need all these words? M. Merry. O Jesus! will ye see What dissembling creatures these same women be? [Aside. The gentleman ye wot of, whom ye do so love, That ye would fain marry him, if he durst it move, Among other rich widows which are of him glad, Lest ye for lesing of him perchance might run mad, Is now contented that, upon your suit making, Ye be as one in election of taking. C. Custance. What a tale is this! That I wot of! Whom I love! M. Merry. Yea, and he is as loving a worm again as a dove. E'en of very pity he is willing you to take, Because ye shall not destroy yourself for his sake. C. Custance. Marry, God 'ield[104] his maship! whatever he be, It is gentmanly spoken. M. Merry. Is it not, trow ye? If ye have the grace now to offer yourself, ye speed. C. Custance. As much as though I did; this time it shall not need. But what gentleman is it, I pray you tell me plain, That wooeth so finely? M. Merry. Lo, where ye be again! As though ye knew him not! C. Custance. Tush! ye speak in jest. M. Merry. Nay, sure the party is in good knacking earnest, And have you he will (he saith) and have you he must. C. Custance. I am promised during my life, that is just. M. Merry. Marry, so thinketh he—unto him alone. C. Custance. No creature hath my faith and troth but one, That is Gawin Goodluck: and if it be not he, He hath no title this way, whatever he be, For I know none to whom I have such words spoken. M. Merry. Ye know him not, you, by his letter and token? C. Custance. Indeed true it is, that a letter I have, But I never read it yet, as God me save. M. Merry. Ye a woman? and your letter so long unread! C. Custance. Ye may thereby know what haste I have to wed. But now, who is it for my hand? I know by guess. M. Merry. Ah! well, I say— C. Custance. It is Roister Doister, doubtless. M. Merry. Will ye never leave this dissimulation? Ye know him not? C. Custance. But by imagination; For no man there is, but a very dolt and lout, That to woo a widow would so go about. He shall never have me his wife, while he do live. M. Merry. Then will he have you if he may, so mot I thrive; And he biddeth you send him word by me, That ye humbly beseech him ye may his wife be, And that there shall be no let in you nor mistrust, But to be wedded on Sunday next, if he lust; And biddeth you to look for him. C. Custance. Doth he bid so? M. Merry. When he cometh, ask him whether he did or no? C. Custance. Go say, that I bid him keep him warm at home, For, if he come abroad, he shall cough me a mome.[105] My mind was vexed, I 'shrew his head, sottish dolt. M. Merry. He hath in his head— C. Custance. As much brain as a burbolt.[106] M. Merry. Well, dame Custance, if he hear you thus play choploge.[107] C. Custance. What will he? M. Merry. Play the devil in the horologe.[108] C. Custance. I defy him, lout. M. Merry. Shall I tell him what ye say? C. Custance. Yea, and add whatsoever thou canst, I thee pray, And I will avouch it, whatsoever it be. M. Merry. Then let me alone; we will laugh well, ye shall see: It will not be long, ere he will hither resort. C. Custance. Let him come when him lust, I wish no better sport. Fare ye well: I will in, and read my great letter: I shall to my wooer make answer the better. [Exeat.

M. Merry. Now that the whole answer in my device doth rest, I shall paint out our wooer in colours of the best, And all that I say shall be on Custance's mouth, She is author of all that I shall speak, forsooth. But yonder cometh Roister Doister now in a trance. [Enter R. Roister.] R. Roister. Juno send me this day good luck and good chance! I cannot but come see how Merrygreek doth speed. M. Merry. I will not see him, but give him a jut[109] indeed. I cry your mastership mercy! R. Roister. And whither now? M. Merry. As fast as I could run, sir, in post against you. But why speak ye so faintly, or why are ye so sad? R. Roister. Thou knowest the proverb—because I cannot be had. Hast thou spoken with this woman? M. Merry. Yea, that I have. R. Roister. And what, will this gear be? M. Merry. No, so God me save. R. Roister. Hast thou a flat answer? M. Merry. Nay, a sharp answer. R. Roister. What? M. Merry. Ye shall not (she saith), by her will, marry her cat. Ye are such a calf, such an ass, such a block, Such a lilburn, such a hobil, such a lobcock; And because ye should come to her at no season, She despised your maship out of all reason. "Beware what ye say (ko I) of such a gentleman!" "Nay, I fear him not (ko she), do the best he can." He vaunteth himself for a man of prowess great, Whereas a good gander, I dare say, may him beat. And where he is louted[110] and laughed to scorn, For the veriest dolt that ever was born: And veriest lubber, sloven and beast, Living in this world from the west to the east; Yet of himself hath he such opinion, That in all the world is not the like minion. He thinketh each woman to be brought in dotage With the only sight of his goodly personage: Yet none that will have him: we do him lout and flock, And make him among us our common sporting-stock; And so would I now (ko she), save only because— "Better nay (ko I)." "I lust not meddle with daws." "Ye are happy (ko I) that ye are a woman: This would cost you your life, in case ye were a man." R. Roister. Yea, an hundred thousand pound should not save her life. M. Merry. No, but that ye woo her to have her to your wife; But I could not stop her mouth. R. Roister. Heigho, alas! M. Merry. Be of good cheer, man, and let the world pass.[111] R. Roister. What shall I do or say, now that it will not be? M. Merry. Ye shall have choice of a thousand as good as she; And ye must pardon her; it is for lack of wit. R. Roister. Yea, for were not I an husband for her fit? Well, what should I now do? M. Merry. I'faith, I cannot tell. R. Roister. I will go home, and die. M. Merry. Then shall I bid toll the bell? R. Roister. No. M. Merry. God have mercy on your soul: ah, good gentleman, That e'er you should thus die for an unkind woman! Will ye drink once, ere ye go? R. Roister. No, no, I will none. M. Merry. How feels your soul to God? R. Roister. I am nigh-gone. M. Merry. And shall we hence straight? R. Roister. Yea. M. Merry. Placebo dilexi. [ut infra.[112] Master Roister Doister will straight go home, and die. R. Roister. Heigho, alas! the pangs of death my heart do break. M. Merry. Hold your peace, for shame, sir! a dead man may not speak Ne quando. What mourners and what torches shall we have? R. Roister. None. M. Merry. Dirige. He will go darkling to his grave: Neque lux, neque crux, neque mourners, neque clink, He will steal to heaven, unknowing to God, I think, A porta inferi. Who shall your goods possess? R. Roister. Thou shalt be my sector,[113] and have all, more or less. M. Merry. Requiem æternam. Now, God reward your mastership, And I will cry halfpenny-dole for your worship, Come forth, sirs; hear the doleful news I shall you tell. [Evocat servos milites. Our good master here will no longer with us dwell, But in spite of Custance, which hath him wearied, Let us see his maship solemnly buried; And while some piece of his soul is yet him within, Some part of his funerals let us here begin. Audivi vocem. All men take heed by this one gentleman, How you set your love upon an unkind woman: For these women be all such mad, peevish elves, They will not be won, except to please themselves. But, in faith, Custance, if ever ye come in hell, Master Roister Doister shall serve you as well— And will ye needs go from us thus in very deed? R. Roister. Yea, in good sadness. M. Merry. Now Jesus Christ be your speed. Good night, Roger, old knave! farewell, Roger, old knave! Good night, Roger, old knave, knave knap! [ut infra.[114] Pray for the late master Roister Doister's soul, And come forth, parish clerk; let the passing-bell toll. [Ad servos milites. Pray for your master, sirs; and for him ring a peal. He was your right good master, while he was in heal. R. Roister. Qui Lazarum. Heigho! M. Merry. Dead men go not so fast in Paradisum. R. Roister. Heigho! M. Merry. Soft, hear what I have cast. R. Roister. I will hear nothing, I am past. M. Merry. Whough, wellaway! Ye may tarry one hour, and hear what I shall say. Ye were best, sir, for awhile to revive again, And quite them, ere ye go. R. Roister. Trowest thou so? M. Merry. Yea, plain. R. Roister. How may I revive, being now so far past? M. Merry. I will rub your temples, and fet you again at last. R. Roister. It will not be possible. M. Merry. Yes, for twenty pound. R. Roister. Arms! what dost thou? M. Merry. Fet you again out of your sound.[115] By this cross, ye were nigh gone indeed; I might feel Your soul departing within an inch of your heel. Now follow my counsel— R. Roister. What is it? M. Merry. If I were you, Custance should eft seek to me, ere I would bow. R. Roister. Well, as thou wilt have me, even so will I do. M. Merry. Then shall ye revive again for an hour or two. R. Roister. As thou wilt: I am content, for a little space. M. Merry. Good hap is not hasty: yet in space cometh grace. To speak with Custance yourself should be very well; What good thereof may come, nor I nor you can tell. But now the matter standeth upon your marriage, Ye must now take unto you a lusty carriage.[116] Ye may not speak with a faint heart to Custance. But with a lusty breast[117] and countenance, That she may know she hath to answer to a man. R. Roister. Yes, I can do that as well as any can. M. Merry. Then, because ye must Custance face to face woo, Let us see how to behave yourself ye can do. Ye must have a portly brag after your estate. R. Roister. Tush, I can handle that after the best rate. M. Merry. Well done; so, lo! up, man, with your head and chin! Up with, that snout, man: so lo! now ye begin. So, that is somewhat like; but, pranky-coat, nay when? That is a lusty brute! hands unto your side, man: So, lo! now is it even as it should be; That is somewhat like for a man of your degree. Then must ye stately go, jetting up and down.[118] Tut! can ye no better shake the tail of your gown? There, lo! such a lusty brag it is ye must make. R. Roister. To come behind, and make curts'y,[119] thou must some pains take. M. Merry. Else were I much to blame. I thank your mastership; The Lord one day all to begrime you with worship. Back, Sir Sauce! let gentlefolks have elbow-room. 'Void, sirs, see ye not Master Roister Doister come? Make place, my masters— R. Roister. Thou jostlest now too nigh. M. Merry. Back, all rude louts. R. Roister. Tush. M. Merry. I cry your maship mercy. Hoiday! if fair fine Mistress Custance saw you now, Ralph Roister Doister were her own, I warrant you. R. Roister. Ne'er a master by your girdle? M. Merry. Your good Mastership's Mastership were her own mistresship's mistresship's. Ye were take up for hawks; ye were gone, ye were gone: But now one other thing more yet I think upon. R. Roister. Show what it is. M. Merry. A wooer, be he never so poor, Must play and sing before his best-beloved's door. How much more then you? R. Roister. Thou speakest well, out of doubt. And perchance that would make her the sooner come out.[120] Go call my musicians; bid them hie apace. M. Merry. I will be here with them, ere ye can say trey ace. [Exeat. R. Roister. This was well said of Merrygreek, I 'low his wit, Before my sweetheart's door we will have a fit, That, if my love come forth, I may with her talk: I doubt not but this gear shall on my side walk. But lo! how well Merrygreek is returned since. M. Merry.[121] There hath grown no grass on my heel, since I went hence: Lo! here have I brought that shall make you pastance. R. Roister. Come, sirs, let us sing, to win my dear love Custance. [Cantent.[122] M. Merry. Lo, where she cometh! some countenance to her make; And ye shall hear me be plain with her for your sake.

C. Custance. What gauding and fooling is this afore my door? M. Merry. May not folks be honest, pray you, though they be poor? C. Custance. As that thing may be true, so rich folks may be fools. R. Roister. Her talk is as fine as she had learned in schools. M. Merry. Look partly toward her, and draw a little near. [Aside. C. Custance. Get ye home, idle folks. M. Merry. Why may not we be here? Nay, and ye will haze, haze;[123] otherwise, I tell you plain, And ye will not haze, then give us our gear again. C. Custance. Indeed, I have of yours much gay things, God save all. R. Roister. Speak gently unto her, and let her take all. [Aside. M. Merry. Ye are too tender-hearted. Shall she make us daws? [Aside. Nay, dame, I will be plain with you in my friend's cause. R. Roister. Let all this pass, sweetheart, and accept my service. C. Custance. I will not be served with a fool in no wise. When I choose an husband, I hope to take a man. M. Merry. And where will ye find one which can do that he can? Now this man toward you being so kind, Why not make him an answer somewhat to his mind? C. Custance. I sent him a full answer by you, did I not? M. Merry. And I reported it. C. Custance. Nay, I must speak it again. R. Roister. No, no, he told it all. M. Merry. Was I not meetly plain? R. Roister. Yes. M. Merry. But I would not tell all; for, faith, if I had, With you, dame Custance, ere this hour it had been bad; And not without cause: for this goodly personage Meant no less than to join with you in marriage. C. Custance. Let him waste no more labour nor suit about me. 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. [reads:] 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. [reads:] "Sweet Mistress, where as I love you nothing at all, Regarding your substance and riches chief of all; For your personage, beauty, demeanour and wit, I commend me unto you never a whit. Sorry to bear report of your good welfare, For, (as I hear say) such your conditions are, That ye be worthy favour of no living man; To be abhorred of every honest man. To be taken for a woman inclined to vice; Nothing at all to virtue giving her due price. Wherefore concerning marriage ye are thought Such a fine paragon as ne'er honest man bought. And now by these presents I do you advertise, That I am minded to marry you in no wise. For your goods and substance, I could be content To take you as ye are. If ye mind to be my wife, Ye shall be assured, for the time of my life, I will keep ye right well from good raiment and fare; Ye shall not be kept but in sorrow and care. Ye shall in no wise live at your own liberty; Do and say what ye lust, ye shall never please me; But when ye are merry, I will be all sad; When ye are sorry, I will be very glad. When ye seek your heart's ease, I will be unkind; At no time in me shall ye much gentleness find; But all things contrary to your will and mind Shall be done: otherwise I will not be behind To speak. And as for all them that would do you wrong, I will so help and maintain, ye shall not live long. Nor any foolish dolt shall cumber you, but I; I, whoe'er say nay, will stick by you, till I die. Thus, good Mistress Custance, the Lord you save and keep From me, Roister Doister, whether I wake or sleep, Who favoureth you no less (ye may be bold) Than this letter purporteth, which ye have unfold."[124] C. Custance. How, by this letter of love? is it not fine? R. Roister. By the Arms of Calais, it is none of mine. M. Merry. Fie! you are foul to blame; this is your own hand. C. Custance. Might not a woman be proud of such an husband? M. Merry. Ah, that ye would in a letter show such despite! R. Roister. O, I would I had him here, the which did it indite! M. Merry. Why, ye made it yourself, ye told me, by this light! R. Roister. Yea, I meant I wrote it mine own self yesternight. C. Custance. I-wis, sir, I would not have sent you such a mock. R. Roister. Ye may so take it; but I meant it not so, by Cock. M. Merry. Who can blame this woman to fume, and fret, and rage? Tut, tut, yourself now have marred your own marriage. [Aside. Well yet, Mistress Custance, if ye can this remit; This gentleman otherwise may your love requite. C. Custance. No, God be with you both, and seek no more to me. [Exit. R. Roister. Wough! she is gone for ever, I shall her no more see. M. Merry. What, weep? Fie for shame! And blubber? For manhood's sake! Never let your foe so much pleasure of you take. Rather play the man's part, and do love refrain: If she despise you, e'en despise ye her again. R. Roister. By Goss[125] and for thy sake, I defy her indeed! M. Merry. Yea, and perchance that way ye shall much sooner speed; For one mad property these women have, in fay,[126] When ye will, they will not: will not ye? then will they. Ah, foolish woman! ah, most unlucky Custance! Ah, unfortunate woman! ah, peevish Custance, Art thou to thine harms so obstinately bent, That thou canst not see where lieth thine high preferment? Canst thou not lub dis man, which could lub dee so well? Art thou so much thine own foe? R. Roister. Thou dost the truth tell. M. Merry. Well, I lament. R. Roister. So do I. M. Merry. Wherefore? R. Roister. For this thing, Because she is gone. M. Merry. I mourn for another thing. R. Roister. What is it, Merrygreek, wherefore thou dost grief take? M. Merry. That I am not a woman myself, for your sake. I would have you myself, and a straw for yond Gill, And mock much of you, though it were against my will. I would not, I warrant you, fall in such a rage, As so to refuse such a goodly personage. R. Roister. In faith, I heartily thank thee, Merrygreek. M. Merry. And I were a woman—— R. Roister. Thou wouldest to me seek. M. Merry. For, though I say it, a goodly person ye be. R. Roister. No, no. M. Merry. Yes, a goodly man, as e'er I did see. R. Roister. No, I am a poor homely man, as God made me. M. Merry. By the faith that I owe to God, sir, but ye be. Would I might, for your sake, spend a thousand pound land. R. Roister. I daresay thou wouldest have me to thy husband. M. Merry. Yea, and I were the fairest lady in the shire, And knew you as I know you, and see you now here— Well, I say no more— R. Roister. Gramercies, with all my heart. M. Merry. But, since that cannot be, will ye play a wise part? R. Roister. How should I? M. Merry. Refrain from Custance a while now, And I warrant her soon right glad to seek to you. Ye shall see her anon come on her knees creeping, And pray you to be good to her, salt tears weeping. R. Roister. But what, and she come not? M. Merry. In faith, then, farewell she. Or else, if ye be wroth, ye may avenged be. R. Roister. By Cock's precious potstick, and e'en so I shall; I will utterly destroy her, and house and all. But I would be avenged in the mean space, On that vile scribbler, that did my wooing disgrace. M. Merry. Scribbler, ko you? Indeed, he is worthy no less. I will call him to you, and ye bid me, doubtless. R. Roister. Yes, for although he had as many lives As a thousand widows and a thousand wives, As a thousand lions and a thousand rats, A thousand wolves and a thousand cats, A thousand bulls and a thousand calves, And a thousand legions divided in halves, He shall never 'scape death on my sword's point, Though I should be torn therefore joint by joint. M. Merry. Nay, if ye will kill him, I will not fet him, I will not in so much extremity set him. He may yet amend, sir, and be an honest man; Therefore pardon him, good soul, as much as ye can. R. Roister. Well, for thy sake, this once with his life he shall pass; But I will hew him all to pieces, by the mass— M. Merry. Nay, faith, ye shall promise that he shall no harm have, Else I will not fet him. R. Roister. I shall, so God me save! But I may chide him a good.[127] M. Merry. Yea, that do hardily. R. Roister. Go then. M. Merry. I return, and bring him to you by and by.[128] [Ex.

R. Roister. What is a gentleman, but his word and his promise? I must now save this villain's life in any wise; And yet at him already my hands do tickle, I shall unneth[129] hold them, they will be so fickle. But lo, and Merrygreek have not brought him sens![130] M. Merry. Nay, I would I had of my purse paid fortypence. Scrivener. So would I too; but it needed not that stound.[131] M. Merry. But the gentman had rather spent five thousand pound; For it disgraced him at least five times as much. [Enter Scrivener at one side.] Scrivener. He disgraced himself, his loutishness is such. R. Roister. How long they stand prating. (To Merry.) Why com'st thou not away? M. Merry. (to Scriv.) Come now to himself, and hark what he will say. Scrivener. I am not afraid in his presence to appear. R Roister. Art thou come, fellow? Scrivener. How think you? Am I not here? R. Roister. What hindrance hast thou done me, and what villainy! Scrivener. It hath come of thyself, if thou hast had any. R. Roister. All the stock thou comest of, later or rather,[132] From thy first father's grandfather's father's father, Nor all that shall come of thee, to the world's end, Though to three score generations they descend, Can be able to make a just recompense For this trespass of thine and this one offence. Scrivener. Wherein? R. Roister. Did not you make me a letter, brother? Scrivener. Pay the like hire, I will make you such an other. R. Roister. Nay, see, and these whoreson Pharisees and Scribes Do not get their living by polling[133] and bribes. If it were not for shame—— M. Merry. Nay, hold thy hands still.[134] Why, did ye not promise that ye would not him spill?[135] Scrivener. Let him not spare me. R. Roister. Why, wilt thou strike me again? Scrivener. Ye shall have as good as ye bring of me, that is plain. M. Merry. I cannot blame him, sir, though your blows would him grieve; For he knoweth present death to ensue of all ye give. R. Roister. Well, this man for once hath purchased thy pardon. Scrivener. And what say ye to me? or else I will be gone. R. Roister. I say, the letter thou madest me was not good. Scrivener. Then did ye wrong copy it, of likelihood. R. Roister. Yes, out of thy copy, word for word, I it wrote. Scrivener. Then was it as you prayed to have it, I wot: But in reading and pointing there was made some fault. R. Roister. I wot not; but it made all my matter to halt. Scrivener. How say you, is this mine original, or no? R. Roister. The self same that I wrote out of, so mot I go. Scrivener. Look you on your own fist, and I will look on this. And let this man be judge, whether I read amiss. To mine own dear coney, bird, sweetheart, and pigsny, Good Mistress Custance, present these by and by. How now? doth not this superscription agree? R. Roister. Read that is within, and there ye shall the fault see. Scrivener. "Sweet Mistress, whereas I love you; nothing at all Regarding your riches and substance; chief of all For your personage, beauty, demeanour and wit, I commend me unto you; never a whit Sorry to hear report of your good welfare; For (as I hear say) such your conditions are, That ye be worthy favour; of no living man To be abhorred; of every honest man To be taken for a woman inclined to vice Nothing at all; to virtue giving her due price. Wherefore, concerning marriage, ye are thought Such a fine paragon as ne'er honest man bought. And now, by these presents, I do you advertise And now, by these presents, I do you advertise That I am minded to marry you; in no wise For your goods and substance; I can be content To take you as ye are. If ye will be my wife, Ye shall be assured for the time of my life I will keep ye right well: from good raiment and fare Ye shall not be kept: but in sorrow and care Ye shall in no wise live; at your own liberty Do and say what ye lust; ye shall never please me, But when ye are merry; I will be all sad, When ye are sorry; I will be very glad, When ye seek your heart's ease; I will be unkind At no time; in me shall ye much gentleness find. But all things contrary to your will and mind Shall be done otherwise. I will not be behind To speak; and as for all they that would do you wrong (I will so help and maintain ye) shall not live long, Nor any foolish dolt shall cumber you; but I— I whoe'er say nay, will stick by you till I die. Thus, good Mistress Custance, the Lord you save and keep! From me, Roister Doister, whether I wake or sleep, Who favoureth you no less (ye may be bold) Than this letter purporteth, which ye have unfold." Now, sir, what default can ye find in this letter? R. Roister. Of truth, in my mind, there cannot be a better. Scrivener. Then was the fault in reading, and not in writing, No, nor, I dare say, in the form of inditing. But who read this letter, that it sounded so nought? M. Merry. I read it indeed. Scrivener. Ye read it not as ye ought. R. Roister. Why, thou wretched villain, was all this same fault in thee? M. Merry. I knock your costard,[136] if ye offer to strike me. R Roister. Strikest thou indeed, and I offer but in jest? M. Merry. Yea, and rap ye again, except ye can sit in rest. And I will no longer tarry here, me believe. R. Roister. What, wilt thou be angry, and I do thee forgive? Fare thou well, scribbler; I cry thee mercy indeed. Scrivener. Fare ye well, bibbler, and worthily may ye speed. R. Roister. If it were another than thou, it were a knave. M. Merry. Ye are another yourself, sir, the Lord us both save; Albeit in this matter I must your pardon crave. Alas! would ye wish in me the wit that ye have? But, as for my fault, I can quickly amend: I will show Custance it was I that did offend. R. Roister. By so doing her anger may be reformed. M. Merry. But if by no entreaty she will be turned, Then set light by her, and be as testy as she, And do your force upon her with extremity. R. Roister. Come on therefore; let us go home in sadness. M. Merry. That if force shall need, all may be in readiness.[137] And as for this letter, hardily let all go; We will know, whe'er she refuse you for that or no. [Exeant amb.

Sim. Sure. Is there any man but I, Sim. Suresby, alone, That would have taken such an enterprise him upon; In such an outrageous tempest as this was, Such a dangerous gulf of the sea to pass? I think verily Neptune's mighty godship Was angry with some that was in our ship, And but for the honesty which in me he found, I think for the other's sake we had been drown'd. But fie on that servant which, for his master's wealth,[138] Will stick for to hazard both his life and his health. My master Gawin Goodluck after me a day, Because of the weather, thought best his ship to stay; And now that I have the rough surges so well passed, God grant I may find all things safe here at last. Then will I think all my travail well-spent. Now, the first point whereof my master hath me sent, Is to salute dame Christian Custance, his wife Espoused, whom he tendreth no less than his life. I must see how it is with her, well or wrong, And whether for him she doth not now think long. Then to other friends I have a message or tway; And then so to return and meet him on the way. Now will I go knock, that I may dispatch with speed; But lo! forth cometh herself happily indeed.

C. Custance. I come to see if any more stirring be here. But what stranger is this, which doth to me appear? Sim. Suresby. I will speak to her. Dame, the Lord you save and see! C. Custance. What, friend Sim. Suresby. Forsooth, right welcome ye be. How doth mine own Gawin Goodluck, I pray thee tell? Sim. 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. Sim. Sure. Such news will please him well. This is as it should be. C. Custance. I think now long for him. Sim. Sure. And he as long for you. C. Custance. When will he be at home? Sim. Sure. His heart is here e'en now; His body cometh after. C. Custance. I would see that fain. Sim. Sure. As fast as wind and sail can carry it a-main. But what two men are yond coming hitherwards? C. Custance. Now I shrew their best Christmas cheeks both togetherward.

C. Custance. What mean these lewd fellows thus to trouble me still? Sim. Suresby here, perchance, shall thereof deem some ill, And shall suspect in me some point of naughtiness, And they come hitherward. [Aside. Sim. Sure. What is their business? C. Custance. I have nought to them, nor they to me, in sadness.[139] Sim. Sure. Let us hearken them; somewhat there is, I fear it. R. Roister. I will speak out aloud best, that she may hear it. M. Merry. Nay, alas! ye may so fear her out of her wit. R. Roister. By the cross of my sword, I will hurt her no whit. M. Merry. Will ye do no harm indeed? Shall I trust your word? R. Roister. By Roister Doister's faith, I will speak but in bord.[140] Sim. Sure. Let us hearken them: somewhat there is, I fear it. R. Roister. I will speak out aloud, I care not who hear it.— Sirs, see that my harness, my target and my shield Be made as bright now, as when I was last in field: As white, as I should to war again to-morrow; For sick shall I be, but I work some folk sorrow. Therefore see that all shine as bright as Saint George, Or as doth a key, newly come from the smith's forge. I would have my sword and harness to shine so bright, That I might therewith dim mine enemies' sight: I would have it cast beams as fast, I tell you plain, As doth the glitt'ring grass after a shower of rain. And see that, in case I should need to come to arming, All things may be ready at a minute's warning. For such chance may chance in an hour: do ye hear? M. Merry. As perchance shall not chance again in seven year. R. Roister. Now, draw ye near to her, and hear what shall be said. M. Merry. But I would not have you make her too much afraid. R. Roister. Well found, sweet wife, (I trust) for all this your sour look. C. Custance. Wife! Why call ye me wife? Sim. Sure (aside). Wife! This gear goeth a-crook. M. Merry. Nay, Mistress Custance, I warrant you our letter Is not as we read e'en now, but much better; And where ye half stomached[141] this gentleman afore For this same letter, ye will love him now therefore; Nor it is not this letter, though ye were a queen, That should break marriage between you twain, I ween. 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? R. Roister. Yea, say so, sweet spouse, afore strangers hardily. M. Merry. And though I have here his letter of love with me, Yet his rings and tokens he sent keep safe with ye. C. Custance. A mischief take his tokens, and him, and thee too! But what prate I with fools? Have I nought else to do? Come in with me, Sim. Suresby, to take some repast. Sim. Sure. I must, ere I drink, by your leave, go in all haste To a place or two with earnest letters of his. C. Custance. Then come drink here with me. Sim. Sure. I thank you. C. Custance. Do not miss. You shall have a token to your master with you. Sim. Sure. No tokens this time, gramercies. God be with you. [Exeat. C. Custance. Surely, this fellow misdeemeth some ill in me; Which thing, but God help, will go near to spill me. R. Roister. Yea, farewell, fellow, and tell thy master Goodluck, That he cometh too late of this blossom to pluck. Let him keep him there still, or at least-wise make no haste; As for his labour hither he shall spend in waste. His betters be in place now. M. Merry. As long as it will hold. C. Custance (aside). I will be even with thee, thou beast, thou may'st be bold. R. Roister. Will ye have us then? C. Custance. I will never have thee. R. Roister. Then will I have you. C. Custance. No, the devil shall have thee. I have gotten this hour more shame and harm by thee, Than all thy life-days thou canst do me honesty. M. Merry. Why, now may ye see what it com'th to in the end, To make a deadly foe of your most loving friend: And i-wis this letter, if ye would hear it now— C. Custance. I will hear none of it. M. Merry. In faith, ['t]would ravish you. C. Custance. He hath stained my name for ever, this is clear. R. Roister. I can make all as well in an hour. M. Merry. As ten year. How say ye, will ye have him? C. Custance. No. M. Merry. Will ye take him— C. Custance. I defy him. M. Merry. At my word? C. Custance. A shame take him! Waste no more wind, for it will never be. M. Merry. This one fault with twain shall be mended, ye shall see. Gentle Mistress Custance now, good Mistress Custance, Honey Mistress Custance now, sweet Mistress Custance, Golden Mistress Custance now, white Mistress Custance, Silken Mistress Custance now, fair Mistress Custance. C. Custance. Faith, rather than to marry with such a doltish lout, I would match myself with a beggar, out of doubt. M. Merry. Then I can say no more; to speed we are not like, Except ye rap out a rag of your rhetoric. C. Custance. Speak not of winning me; for it shall never be so. R. Roister. Yes, dame, 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,[142] To doat upon you, and ye not love us again? M. Merry. Well said yet. C. Custance. Go to, thou goose. R. Roister. I say, Kit Custance, In case ye will not haze, well; better yes, perchance. C. Custance. Avaunt, losel![143] 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 an husband ye have lost. C. Custance. Yea, no force;[144] 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, [though I die;[145]] 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 yea to that she said no. C. Custance. And what, be there no officers, trow we, in town, To check idle loiterers, bragging up and down? Where be they by whom vagabonds should be represt, That poor silly widows might live in peace and rest? Shall I never rid thee out of my company? I will call for help. What, ho! come forth, Truepenny! Truepenny.[146] Anon. What is your will, Mistress? Did ye call me? C. Custance. Yea: go, run apace, and, as fast as may be, Pray Tristram Trusty, my most assured friend, To be here by and by, that he may me defend. Truepenny. That message so quickly shall be done, by God's grace, That at my return ye shall say, I went apace. [Exeat. C. Custance. Then shall we see, I trow, whether ye shall do me harm. R. Roister. Yes, in faith, Kit, I shall thee and thine so charm, That all women incarnate by thee may beware. C. Custance. Nay, as for charming me, come hither if thou dare. I shall clout thee, till thou stink, both thee and thy train, And coil[147] thee mine own hands, and send thee home again. R. Roister. Yea, say'st thou me that, dame? Dost thou me threaten? Go we, I will see whether I shall be beaten. M. Merry. Nay, for the paishe[148] of God, let me now treat peace; For bloodshed will there be, in case this strife increase. Ah, good dame Custance, take better way with you! C. Custance. Let him do his worst! M. Merry. Yield in time. R. Roister. Come hence, thou! [Exeant Roister and Merry.