To have his counsel, and to know their fortunes.
God’s will, my sister shall see him.
I’ll tell you, sir,
What he did tell me of Nab. It’s a strange thing:—
By the way, you must eat no cheese, Nab, it breeds melancholy,
And that same melancholy breeds worms; but pass it:—
He told me, honest Nab here was ne’er at tavern
But once in’s life!
Truth, and no more I was not.
And then he was so sick—
Could he tell you that too?
How should I know it?
In troth we had been a-shooting,
And had a piece of fat ram-mutton to supper,
That lay so heavy o’ my stomach—
And he has no head
To bear any wine; for what with the noise of the fiddlers,
And care of his shop, for he dares keep no servants—
My head did so ache—
And he was fain to be brought home,
The Doctor told me: and then a good old woman—
Yes, faith, she dwells in Sea-coal Lane—did cure me,
With sodden ale, and pellitory of the wall;
Cost me but twopence. I had another sickness
Was worse than that.
Ay, that was with the grief
Thou took’st for being ’sessed at eighteen-pence,
For the water-work.
In truth, and it was like
T’ have cost me almost my life.
Thy hair went off?
Yes, sir; ’twas done for spite.
Nay, so says the Doctor.
Pray thee, tobacco-boy, go fetch my sister;
I’ll see this learned boy before I go;
And so shall she.
Sir, he is busy now:
But if you have a sister to fetch hither,
Perhaps your own pains may command her sooner;
And he by that time will be free.
I go.
Drugger, she’s thine: the damask!—
Subtle and I
Must wrestle for her.
Aside.
—Come on, master Dapper,
You see how I turn clients here away,
To give your cause dispatch; have you performed
The ceremonies were enjoined you?
Yes, of the vinegar,
And the clean shirt.
’Tis well: that shirt may do you
More worship than you think. Your aunt’s afire,
But that she will not show it, t’ have a sight of you.
Have you provided for her Grace’s servants?
Yes, here are six score Edward shillings.
Good!
And an old Harry’s sovereign.
Very good!
And three James shillings, and an Elizabeth groat,
Just twenty nobles.
O, you are too just.
I would you had had the other noble in Marys.
I have some Philip and Marys.
Ay, those same
Are best of all: where are they? Hark, the Doctor.
In a feigned voice. Is yet her grace’s cousin come?
He is come.
And is he fasting?
Yes.
And hath cried hum?
Thrice, you must answer.
Thrice.
And as oft buz?
If you have, say.
I have.
Then, to her cuz,
Hoping that he hath vinegared his senses,
As he was bid, the Fairy Queen dispenses,
By me, this robe, the petticoat of fortune;
Which that he straight put on, she doth importune.
And though to fortune near be her petticoat,
Yet nearer is her smock, the Queen doth note:
And therefore, ev’n of that a piece she hath sent
Which, being a child, to wrap him in was rent;
And prays him for a scarf he now will wear it,
With as much love as then her Grace did tear it,
About his eyes, to show he is fortunate.
They blind him with the rag.
And, trusting unto her to make his state,
He’ll throw away all worldly pelf about him;
Which that he will perform, she doth not doubt him.
She need not doubt him, sir. Alas, he has nothing,
But what he will part withal as willingly,
Upon her Grace’s word—throw away your purse—
As she would ask it;—handkerchiefs and all—
He throws away, as they bid him.
She cannot bid that thing, but he’ll obey.—
If you have a ring about you, cast it off,
Or a silver seal at your wrist; her Grace will send
Her fairies here to search you, therefore deal
Directly with her highness: if they find
That you conceal a mite, you are undone.
Truly, there’s all.
All what?
My money; truly.
Keep nothing that is transitory about you.
Aside to Subtle.
Bid Dol play music.—
Dol plays on the cittern within.
Look, the elves are come.
To pinch you, if you tell not truth. Advise you.
O! I have a paper with a spur-rial in’t.
Ti, ti.
They knew’t, they say.
Ti, ti, ti, ti. He has more yet.
Ti, ti-ti-ti.
Aside to Subtle.
In the other pocket.
Titi, titi, titi, titi, titi.
They must pinch him or he will never confess, they say.
O, O!
Nay, pray you, hold: he is her Grace’s nephew,
Ti, ti, ti? What care you? Good faith, you shall care.—
Deal plainly, sir, and shame the fairies. Show
You are innocent.
By this good light, I have nothing.
Ti, ti, ti, ti, to, ta. He does equivocate she says:
Ti, ti do ti, ti ti do, ti da;
and swears by the Light when he is blinded.
By this good Dark, I have nothing but a half-crown
Of gold about my wrist, that my love gave me;
And a leaden heart I wore since she forsook me.
I thought ’twas something. And would you incur
Your aunt’s displeasure for these trifles? Come,
I had rather you had thrown away twenty half-crowns.
Takes it off.
You may wear your leaden heart still.—
How now!
What news, Dol?
Yonder’s your knight, Sir Mammon.
’Ods lid, we never thought of him till now!
Where is he?
Here hard by: he is at the door.
And you are not ready now! Dol, get his suit.
He must not be sent back.
O, by no means.
What shall we do with this same puffin here,
Now he’s on the spit?
Why, lay him back awhile,
With some device.
