Part 2 / Act 2 — SCENE III.
Reading edition
The neighbourhood of Ravenna.
Enter Aberzanes, and old Woman carrying an infant.
Aber. So, so, away with him! I love to get 'em,
But not to keep 'em. Dost thou know the house?
Old Wom. No matter for the house, I know the porch.
287Aber. There’s sixpence more for that: away, keep close.— [Exit old Woman.
My tailor told me he sent away a maid-servant
Well ballast of all sides within these nine days;
His wife ne’er dream’d on’t; gave the drab ten pounds,
And she ne’er troubles him: a common fashion
He told me ’twas to rid away a scape;
And I have sent him this for’t. I remember
A friend of mine once serv’d a prating tradesman
Just on this fashion, to a hair, in troth.
’Tis a good ease to a man: you can swell a maid up,
And rid her for ten pound; there’s the purse back again,
Whate’er becomes of your money or your maid.
This comes of bragging, now. It’s well for the boy too;
He’ll get an excellent trade by’t; and on Sundays
Go like a gentleman that has pawn’d his rapier:
He need not care what countryman his father was,
Nor what his mother was when he was gotten:
The boy will do well certain: give him grace
To have a quick hand and convey things cleanly!
Enter Francisca.
'Twill be his own another day. O, well said!
Art almost furnish’d? there’s such a toil always
To set a woman to horse, a mighty trouble.
The letter came to your brother’s hands, I know,
On Thursday last by noon: you were expected there
Yesterday night.
Fran. It makes the better, sir.
Aber. We must take heed we ride through all the puddles
288'Twixt this and that now, that your safeguard[535] there
May be most probably dabbled.
Fran. Alas, sir,
I never mark’d till now—I hate myself—
How monstrous thin I look!
Aber. Not monstrous neither;
A little sharp i’ th’ nose, like a country woodcock.
Fran. Fie, fie, how pale I am! I shall betray myself.
I would you’d box me well and handsomely,
To get me into colour.
Aber. Not I, pardon me;
That let a husband do when he has married you:
A friend at court will never offer that.
Come, how much spice and sugar have you left now,
At this poor one month’s voyage?
Fran. Sure, not much, sir;
I think some quarter of a pound of sugar,
And half an ounce of spice.
Aber. Here’s no sweet charge![536]
And there was thirty pound good weight and true,
Beside what my man stole when 't was a-weighing,
And that was three pound more, I’ll speak with least.
The Rhenish wine, is’t all run out in caudles too?
Fran. Do you ask that, sir? ’tis of a week’s departure.
You see what ’tis now to get children, sir.
Enter Boy.
Boy. Your mares are ready both, sir.
289Aber. Come, we’ll up, then.—
Youth, give my sister a straight wand: there’s twopence.
Boy. I’ll give her a fine whip, sir.
Aber. No, no, no;
Though we have both deserv’d it.
Boy. Here’s a new one.
Aber. Prithee, talk to us of no whips, good boy;
My heart aches when I see 'em.—Let’s away. [Exeunt.