Act 3 — [Scene V.][3093]
Reading edition
[Scene V.][3093]
Enter Mistress Merrythought and Michael.
Mist. Mer. Mick, my boy—
Mich. Ay, forsooth, mother.
Mist. Mer. Be merry, Mick; we are at home now; where, I warrant you, you shall find the house flung out of the windows. [Music within.]5 Hark! hey, dogs, hey! this is the old world,[3094] i’ faith, with my husband. If I get in among ’em, I ’ll play ’em such a lesson, that they shall have little list to come scraping hither again.—Why, Master Merrythought! husband! Charles Merrythought!11
Mer. [appearing above, and singing.] If you will sing, and dance, and laugh, And hollow, and laugh again, And then cry, “There, boys, there!” why, then, One, two, three, and four,15 We shall be merry within this hour.
Mist. Mer. Why, Charles, do you not know your own natural wife? I say, open the door, and turn me out those mangy companions; ’t is more than time that they were fellow and 20 fellow-like with you. You are a gentleman, Charles, and an old man, and father of two children; and I myself, (though I say it) by my mother’s side niece to a worshipful gentleman and a conductor;[3095] he has been three times 25 in his majesty’s service at Chester, and is now the fourth time, God bless him and his charge, upon his journey.
Mer. [sings.] Go from my window, love, go; Go from my window, my dear!30 The wind and the rain Will drive you back again; You cannot be lodged here.
Hark you, Mistress Merrythought, you that walk upon adventures, and forsake your husband, 35 because he sings with never a penny in his purse: what, shall I think myself the worse? Faith, no, I ’ll be merry. You come not here; here ’s none but lads of mettle, lives of a hundred years and upwards; care never 40 drunk their bloods, nor want made ’em warble “Heigh-ho, my heart is heavy.”
Mist. Mer. Why, Master Merrythought, what am I, that you should laugh me to scorn thus abruptly? Am I not your fellow-feeler, as 45 we may say, in all our miseries? your comforter in health and sickness? Have I not brought you children? Are they not like you, Charles? look upon thine own image, hard-hearted man! and yet for all this—— 50
Mer. [sings.] Begone, begone, my juggy, my puggy, Begone, my love, my dear! The weather is warm, ’T will do thee no harm: Thou canst not be lodged here.—55
Be merry, boys! some light music, and more wine!
[Exit above.]
Wife. He ’s not in earnest, I hope, George, is he?
Cit. What if he be, sweetheart? 60
Wife. Marry, if he be, George, I ’ll make bold to tell him he’s an ingrant[3096] old man to use his bed-fellow so scurvily.
Cit. What! how does he use her, honey?
Wife. Marry, come up, sir saucebox! I think you ’ll take his part, will you not? Lord, how 66 hot you are grown! You are a fine man, an you had a fine dog; it becomes you sweetly!
Cit. Nay, prithee, Nell, chide not; for, as I am an honest man and a true Christian grocer,70 I do not like his doings.
Wife. I cry you mercy, then, George! you know we are all frail and full of infirmities.— D’ye hear, Master Merrythought? May I crave a word with you?75
Mer. [appearing above.] Strike up lively, lads!
Wife. I had not thought, in truth. Master Merrythought, that a man of your age and discretion, as I may say, being a gentleman,80 and therefore known by your gentle conditions,[3097] could have used so little respect to the weakness of his wife; for your wife is your own flesh, the staff of your age, your yoke-fellow, with whose help you draw through the mire to this85 transitory world; nay, she’s your own rib: and again——
Mer. [sings.] I come not hither for thee to teach, I have no pulpit for thee to preach, I would thou hadst kist me under the breech,90 As thou art a lady gay.
Wife. Marry, with a vengeance! I am heartily sorry for the poor gentlewoman: but if I were thy wife, i’ faith, greybeard, i’ faith——
Cit. I prithee, sweet honeysuckle, be 95 content.
Wife. Give me such words, that am a gentlewoman born! Hang him, hoary rascal! Get me some drink, George; I am almost molten with fretting: now, beshrew his knave’s heart 100 for it!
[Exit Citizen.]
Mer. Play me a light lavolta.[3098] Come, be frolic. Fill the good fellows wine.
Mist. Mer. Why, Master Merrythought, are you disposed to make me wait here? You’ll 105 open, I hope; I’ll fetch them that shall open else.
Mer. Good woman, if you will sing, I’ll give you something; if not——
[Sings.]
You are no love for me, Margaret,110 I am no love for you.—
Come aloft,[3099] boys, aloft!
[Exit above.]
Mist. Mer. Now a churl’s fart in your teeth, sir!—Come, Mick, we’ll not trouble him; ’a shall not ding us i’ th’ teeth with his bread 115 and his broth, that he shall not. Come, boy; I’ll provide for thee, I warrant thee. We’ll go to Master Venturewell’s, the merchant: I’ll get his letter to mine host of the Bell in Waltham; there I’ll place thee with the tapster: 120 will not that do well for thee, Mick? And let me alone for that old cuckoldly knave your father: I’ll use him in his kind,[3100] I warrant ye.
[Exeunt.]
[Re-enter Citizen with Beer.]
Wife. Come, George, where’s the beer?
Cit. Here, love.125
Wife. This old fornicating fellow will not out of my mind yet.—Gentlemen, I’ll begin to you all; and I desire more of your acquaintance with all my heart. [Drinks.] Fill the gentlemen some beer, George. Music. Boy danceth.130 Look,[3101] George; the little boy’s come again: methinks he looks something like the Prince of Orange in his long stocking, if he had a little harness[3102] about his neck. George, I will have him dance Fading.—Fading is a fine jig,135 I’ll assure you, gentlemen.—Begin, brother. —Now ’a capers, sweetheart!—Now a turn i’ th’ toe, and then tumble! cannot you tumble, youth?
Boy. No, indeed, forsooth.140
Wife. Nor eat fire?
Boy. Neither.
Wife. Why, then, I thank you heartily; there’s twopence to buy you points[3103] withal.