Act 4 — SCENE II.

A Room in Mistress Mary's House.

Enter MISTRESS MARY, MISTRESS SPLAY, and BRABO.

BRA. Mistress, I long have serv'd you, even since These bristled hairs upon my grave-like chin Were all unborn; when I first came to you, These infant feathers of these ravens' wings Were not once begun.

MRS SPLAY. No, indeed, they were not.

BRA. Now in my two moustachios for a need, (Wanting a rope) I well could hang myself; I prythee, mistress, for all my long service, For all the love that I have borne thee long, Do me this favour now, to marry me.

Enter YOUNG MASTER ARTHUR.

MRS MA. Marry, come up, you blockhead! you great ass! What! wouldst thou have me marry with a devil! But peace, no more; here comes the silly fool, That we so long have set our lime-twigs for; Begone, and leave me to entangle him.

[Exeunt MISTRESS SPLAY and BRABO.

Y. ART. What, Mistress Mary?

MRS MA. O good Master Arthur, Where have you been this week, this month, this year? This year, said I? where have you been this age? Unto a lover ev'ry minute seems Time out of mind: How should I think you love me, That can endure to stay so long from me?

Y. ART. I' faith, sweetheart, I saw thee yesternight.

MRS MA. Ay, true, you did, but since you saw me not; At twelve o'clock you parted from my house, And now 'tis morning, and new-strucken seven; Seven hours thou stay'd'st from me; why didst thou so? They are my seven years' 'prenticeship of woe.

Y. ART. I prythee, be patient; I had some occasion That did enforce me from thee yesternight.

MRS MA. Ay, you are soon enforc'd; fool that I am, To dote on one that nought respecteth me! 'Tis but my fortune, I am born to bear it, And ev'ry one shall have their destiny.

Y. ART. Nay, weep not, wench; thou wound'st me with thy tears.

MRS MA. I am a fool, and so you make me too; These tears were better kept than spent in waste On one that neither tenders them nor me. What remedy? but if I chance to die, Or to miscarry with that I go withal, I'll take my death that thou art cause thereof; You told me that, when your wife was dead, You would forsake all others, and take me.

Y. ART. I told thee so, and I will keep my word, And for that end I came thus early to thee; I have procur'd a licence, and this night We will be married in a lawless[20] church.

MRS. MA. These news revive me, and do somewhat ease The thought that was new-gotten to my heart. But shall it be to-night?

Y. ART. Ay, wench, to-night. A se'nnight and odd days, since my wife died, Is past already, and her timeless death Is but a nine-days' talk; come, go with me, And it shall be despatched presently.

MRS. MA. Nay, then, I see thou lov'st me; and I find By this last motion thou art grown more kind.

Y. ART. My love and kindness, like my age, shall grow, And with the time increase; and thou shalt see The older I grow, the kinder I will be.

MRS. MA, Ay, so I hope it will; but, as for mine, That with my age shall day by day decline. [Aside. Come, shall we go?

Y. ART. With thee to the world's end, Whose beauty most admire, and all commend.

[Exeunt.