We shall next present to the reader so much of the earliest extant English comedy (Ralph Roister Doister) as will enable him to form a notion of its merits as a drama. says: 2 note-(?) head or nose. She evidently makes him feel the weight of her fist. 4 mone-may. 7 mind-think. 5 meanye-menage, household. 8 Warray-war with, curse. For truly of all men he is my chief banker, Both for meat and money, and my chief sheetanchor. For sooth Roister Doister in that he doth say, Is not the like stock whereon to graft a lont. If any woman smile or cast on him an eye, Master Ralph Roister Doister is but dead and gone, Except she on him take some compassion. I will seek him out. But, lo, he cometh this way. ACT I-SCENE II. RALPH ROISTER DOISTER; MATTHEW MERRY GREEKE. R. Roister. Come, death, when thou wilt: I am weary of my life. M. Merry. What is it then? Are ye in danger of debt to any man? If ye be, take no thought, nor be not afraid : Let them hardly take thought 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.2 But if he 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, shall well find, The fellow of the lion which Hercules slew. 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 R. Roister. Yea, but I cannot so put love out of my mind. M. Merry. What is her name? R. Roister. Mistress ah M. Merry. Fie, fie for shame! Love ye and know not whom? but her yonder, 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 shall run mad. M. Merry. Nay, unwise, perhaps, but I warrant you for mad. 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, 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 Gavin Goodlucke promised. R. Roister. What is that Gavin Goodlucke? M. Merry. A merchant man. Yet a fitter wife for your ma'ship1 might be found. 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, quoth you? have ye spied out that ? Ah, sir, marry now I see you know what is what. Enamoured, ka? 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, Malkyn, I warrant you as much as they dare. And ye will not believe what they say in the Matthew then tells Ralph what great heroes the women mistake him for, and proceeds thus: O Lord! (say some) that the sight of his face we lack. It is enough for you (say I) to see his back. 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, That all women, fair and foul, more and less, They eye you, they love 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. Merrygreeke, for this thy reporting well of me M. Merry. What should I else, sir? it is my duty, pardee. 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. 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. She looked on me twenty times yesternight, M. Merry. In the meantime, sir, if you please, 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. ACT I-SCENE III. MADGE MUMBLECRUST spinning on the distaff; TIBET TALKAPACE sewing; ANNOT ALYFACE knitting; R. RoISTER. [After some sharp practice between Madge, Tibet, and Ralph, the latter and Madge are left alone.] R. Roister. Ah, good sweet nurse. M. Mumbl. Nay, I cannot tell, sir; but what R. Roister. How doth sweet Custance, my heart of gold, tell me how? M. Mumbl. She doth very well, sir, and command me to you. R. Roister. To me? M. Mumbl. Yea, to you, sir. MATTHEW MERRYGREEKE; DOBINET DOUGHTIE; RALPH ROISTER; MADGE MUMBLECRUST; HARPAX. M. Merry. Come on, sirs, apace, and quit yourselves like men. Your pains shall be rewarded. But with whom is he now so sadly rounding! yond? D. Dough. With Nobs Nicebecetur Miserere fond. M. Merry. God be at your wedding: be ye sped already? I did not suppose that your love was so greedy. R. Roister. Tush, fool, thou art deceived: this is not she. M. Merry. Well, make much of her, and keep her well, I advise 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 chosen a good gentle man. R. Roister. 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, sirs, to bring home the bride. R. Roister. Gogs arms! knave, art thou mad? I tell thee, thou art wide. R. Roister. This same is the fair widow's nurse, of whom ye wot. M. Merry. Is she but a nurse of a house? 1 Now so seriously whispering yonder. R. Roister. This is our best friend, man. M. Merry. Then teach her what to say. M. Mumbl. I am taught already. M. Mumbl. And what shall I show your mastership's name is? R. Roister. Nay, she shall make suit, ere she shall know that, ywis. M. Mumbl. Yet, let me somewhat know. That killed the blue spider in Blanchepouder 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 buske,' And e'en with pure strength of arms pluck'd out his great tusk. M. Mumbl. Jesus, Nomine Patris, what a thing was that! R. Roister. Yea, but Merrygreeke, one thing thou hast forgot. M. Merry. What? R. Roister. Of the other elephant. M. Merry. Oh, him that fled away? R. Roister, Yea. R. Roister. Now, nurse, take this same letter here to thy mistress; And as my trust is in thee, ply my business. M. Merry. Who made it? R. Roister. I wrote it each whit. M. Merry. Then needs it no mending. M. Merry. No, I know your wit. R. Roister. I warrant it well. M. Merry. Whough! dost thou doubt of that? M. Merry. An hundred times more than thou canst devise to crave. M. Mumbl. Shall I have some new gear? for my dole 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: Custanco is mine own. M. Merry. Yea, he knew that his match was Let us sing and play homeward, that it may be in place that day. 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. The letter is delivered to Christian Custance, who refuses to open it. ACT II.-SCENE I. DOBINET DOughtie. 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;' 'Up before day, sirs, I charge you, an hour or twain; Trudge, do me this message, and bring word quick again.' And now am I sent to Dame Christian Custance; But I fear it will end with a mock for pastance. I know it now perfect, I am in my right way; And lo! yonder the old nurse, that was with us last day. Dobinet then meets with Truepenny, Tibet, and Annot, and persuades them to convey Ralph's token to their mistress, who rewards them with a sound scolding. C. Custance. No creature hath my faith and troth but one, That is Gavin Goodlucke: and if it be not he, 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 might 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 list; 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. 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.2 M. Merry. Well, Dame Custance, if he hear you thus play choplogic. C. Custance. What will he? M. Merry. Play the devil in the horologe.3 M. Merry. Shall I tell him what ye say? 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 list, 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. [Exeunt. Matthew goes and gives Ralph an exaggerated version of Custance's answer, taking the opportunity of letting his silly friend know his own real opinion of his character. Under cover of Christian's answer, Ralph is called The veriest dolt that ever was born; 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 sportingstock; And so would I now (quo' she), save only be cause, 'Better nay,' (quo' I)-'I list not meddle with daws.' 1 A mome is another word for a fool, and the phrase cough me a fool' is common in old plays. Searche houres by the sun, the devyll's dyal will lie.' J. Heywood's Proverbs, 1562. |