Tub. Shall we to Pancras or to Kentish

town, Hilts?

[to us, Hil. Let Kentish-town or Pancras come If either will: I will go home again. Tub. Faith, Basket, our success hath been but bad,

And nothing prospers that we undertake; For we can neither meet with Clay nor Awdrey,

The chanon Hugh, nor Turfe the constable: We are like men that wander in strange woods, [seek. And lose our selves in search of them we Hil. This was because we rose on the wrong side:

But as I am now here, just in the mid-way, I'll zet my sword on the pummel, and that line

The point valls to, we'll take, whether it be To Kentish-town, the church, or home again. Tub. Stay, stay thy hand; here's justice Bramble's clerk,

Enter Metaphor.

Th' unlucky hare hath crost us all this day. I'll stand aside whilst thou pump'st out of him

His business, Hilts; and how he's now employed.

Hil. Let me alone, I'll use him in his kind. Met. Oh for a pad-horse, pack-horse, or a post-horse, [crup! To bear me on his neck, his back, or his I am as weary with running as a mill-horse That hath led the mill once, twice, thrice

about,

After the breath hath been out of his body.
I could get up upon a pannier, a pannel,
Or, to say truth, a very pack-saddle,
Till all my honey were turn'd into gall,
And I could sit in the seat no longer:
Oh the legs of a lackey now, or a footman,
Who's the surbater of a clerk-current,
And the confounder of his trestles dormant !
But who have we here, just in the nick?
Hil. I'm neither nick, nor in the nick:
therefore

You lie, sir Metaphor.

Met. Lie? how?

Hil. Lie so, sir. [He strikes up his heels.
Met. I lie not yet i' my throat.
Hil. Thou ly'st o' the ground.

Dost thou know me ?

Met. Yes, I did know you too late.
Hil. What is my name, then?

Met. Basket.

Hil, Basket? what?

Met. Basket, the great

Hil. The great what?

Met. Lubber

I should say, lover, of the 'squire his master. Hil. Great is my patience, to forbear thee thus,

Thou scrape-hill, scoundrel, and thou scum of man;

Uncivil, orange-tawny-coated clerk:
Thou cam'st but half a thing into the world,

And wast made up of patches, parings, shreds :

Thou, that when last thou wert put out of service,

Travell'dst to Hamstead-heath on an AshWe'nesday,

Where thou didst stand six weeks the Jack of Lent,

For boys to hurl three throws a penny at thee, To make thee a purse: seest thou this bold bright blade? [grave This sword shall shred thee as small unto the As minc'd meat for a pie. I'll set thee in earth

All, save thy head and thy right-arm a liberty,

To keep thy hat off while I question thee What? why? and whither thou wert going

now,

With a face ready to break out with business? And tell me truly, lest I dash't in pieces.

Met. Then, Basket, put thy smiter up, and hear;

I dare not tell the truth to a drawn sword. Hil. 'Tis sheath'd, stand up, speak with out fear or wit.

Met. I know not what they mean; but constable Turfe

Sends here his key for moneys in his cupboard. Which he must pay the captain that was robb'd

This morning. Smell you nothing?
Hil. No, not I:

Thy breeches yet are honest.
Met. As my mouth.

Do you not smell a rat? I tell you truth,
I think all's knavery: for the chanon wh

per'd

[key, Me in the ear, when Turfe had gi’n me By the same token to bring Mrs. Awdrey, As sent for thither; and to say, John Clay Is found, which is indeed to get the wench Forth for my master, who is to be married When she comes there: the chanon has his rules

Ready, and all there, to dispatch the matter. Tub. Now, on my life, this is the chanon's

plot! [Baske Miles, I have heard all thy discourse to Wilt thou be true, and I'll reward thee well, To make me happy in my mistress Awdrey? Met. Your worship shall dispose of Me taphor, [head Thro' all his parts, e'en from the sole o' the To the crown o' the foot, to manage of your

service.

[Turic.

Tub. Then do thy message to the mistress Tell her thy token, bring the money hither, And likewise take young Awdrey to tay charge:

Which done, here, Metaphor, we will attend And intercept thee. And for thy reward You two shall share the money, I the maid: If any take offence, I'll make all good.

Met. But shall I have half the money, sir, in faith?

Tub. I, on my 'squireship shalt thou; and my land.

Met. Then, if I make not, sir, the cleanliest 'scuse

To get her hither, and be then as careful To keep her for you, as 'twere for myself, Down o' your knees, and pray that honest Miles

May break his neck ere he get o'er two stiles.

SCENE III Tub, Hilts.

Tub. Make haste, then: we will wait here thy return. [hopes, This luck unlook'd for hath reviv'd my Which were opprest with a dark melancholy.

In happy time we linger'd on the way,
To meet these summons of a better sound,
Which are the essence of my soul's content.
Hil. This heartless fellow; shame to
serving-men;
[do!
Stain of all liveries; what fear makes him
How sordid, wretched and unworthy things;
Betray his master's secrets, ope' the closet
Of his devices, force the foolish justice
Make way for your love, plotting of his

own:

Like him that digs a trap to catch another, And falls into't himself!

Tub. So would I have it; And hope 'twill prove a jest to twit the justice with.

Hil. But that this poor white-liver'd rogue should do't?

And merely out of fear?

Tub. And hope of money, Hilts.

A valiant man will nibble at that bait. Hil. Who, but a fool, will refuse money proffer'd?

Tub. And sent by so good chance. Pray heaven he speed. [count Hil. If he come empty-handed, let him To go back empty-headed; I'll not leave him So much of brain in's pate, with pepper and vinegar,

To be serv'd in for sauce to a calf's-head. Tub. Thou serv'd him rightly, Hilts. Hil. I'll seal as much

With my hand, as I dare say now with my

tongue;

But if you get the lass from Dargison, What will you do with her?

Tub. We'll think o' that

When once we have her in possession, go

vernor.

SCENE IV.

Puppy, Metaphor, Audrey.

Pup. You see we trust you, Mr. Metaphor,

With Mrs. Awdrey: 'pray you, use her well, As a gentlewoman should be us'd. For my part,

I do incline a little to the serving-man; We have been of a coat—I had one like yours;

Till it did play me such a sleeveless errand, As I had nothing where to put mine arms in, And then I threw it off. 'Pray you go before her,

Serving-man like, and see that your nose drop not.

As for example, you shall see me: mark,
How I go afore her: so do you. Sweet
Miles,

She for her own part, is a woman cares not
What man can do unto her in the way
Of honesty and good manners. So farewell
Fair Mrs. Awdrey: farewell Mr. Miles.
I have brought you thus far onward o' your
way:

I must go back now to make clean the rooms,
Where my good lady has been. Pray you
commend me
[stiff.
To bridegroom Clay; and bid him bear up
Met. Thank you, good Hannibal Puppy;
I shall fit
[buskins
The leg of your commands with the strait
Of dispatch presently.

Pup. Farewell, fine Metaphor. Met. Come, gentle mistress, will you please to walk?

Awd. I love not to be led: I'd go alone.
Met. Let not the mouse of my good
meaning, lady,

Be snap'd up in the trap of your suspicion,
To lose the tail there, either of her truth,
Or swallow'd by the cat of misconstruction.
Awd. You are too finical for me; speak
plain, sir.

SCENE V.

Tub, Awdrey, Hilts, Metaphor, Lady, PolMartin. [To them.]

Tub. Welcome again, my Awdrey: welcome, love:

You shall with me; in faith deny me not.
I cannot brook the second hazard, mistress.
Awd. Forbear, squire Tub, as mine own
mother says,

I am not for your mowing. You'll be flown
Ere I be fledg'd.

Hil. Hast thou the money, Miles? Met. Here are two bags, there's fifty pound in each. [time: Tub. Nay, Awdrey, I possess you for this Sirs, take that coin between you, and di

vide it.

My pretty sweeting, give me now the leave To challenge love and marriage at your hands.

What will my lady say? In faith, I think She was at our house and I think she ask'd for you:

And I think she hit me i' th' teeth with you, I thank her ladyship: and I think she means Not to go hence till she has found you.

Tub. How say you??

Was then my lady mother at your house? Let's have a word aside.

Awd. Yes, twenty words.

Lad. 'Tis strange, a motion, but I know
not what,
[Totten,

Comes in my mind, to leave the way to
And turn to Kentish-town again my journey:
And see my son, Pol-Martin, with his
Awdrey.

Ere while we left her at her father's house: And hath he thence remov'd her in such haste!

What shall I do? shall I speak fair, or chide? Pol. Madam, your worthy son with du

teous care

Can govern his affections: rather then Break off their conference some other way, Pretending ignorance of what you know. Tub. An' this be all, fair Awdrey, 1 am thine.

Lad. Mine you were once, though scarcely now your own.

Hil. 'sid, my lady! my lady! Met. Is this my lady bright? Tub. Madam, you took me now a little tardy. [devout Lad. At prayers I think you were: what, so Of late, that you will shrive you to all con

fessors

Lad. It must be now, my business lie this way.

[cuse me? Tub. Will not an hour hence, madam, exLad. 'Squire, these excuses argue more your guilt.

You have some new device now to project. Which the poor tileman scarce will thank you for.

What? will you go?

Tub. I ha'ta'en a charge upon me, To see this maid conducted to her father, Who, with the chanon Hugh, stays her z Pancras,

To see her married to the same John Clay Lad. 'Tis very well: but, 'squire, take

Pol. I smile to think, after so many proffes This maid hath had, she now should fall

me:

That I should have her in my custody: 'Twere but a mad trick to make the essay And jump a match with her immediately: She's fair and handsome; and she's r enough:

Both time and place minister fair occasion.

$0, as follows:

She means

Tub. How say you? house?

9

Have at it then: fair lady, can you love?
Awd. No, sir; what's that?
Pol. A toy which women use.
Awd. If't be a toy, it's good to play withal.
Pol. We will not stand discoursing o' the
[tress.
The way is short, please you to prove it, mis-
Awd. If you do mean to stand so long
upon it,

3

toy:

I pray you let me give it a short cut, sir. Pol. It's thus, fair maid: are you dispos'd to marry?

Awd. You are dispos'd to ask.
Pol. Are you to grant ?

Awd. Nay, now I see you are dispos'd
indeed.

Pol. I see the wench wants but a little wit; And that defect her wealth may well supply: In plain terms, tell me, will you have me, Awdrey?

Awd. In as plain terms, I tell you who would ha' me.

John Clay would ha' me, but he hath too hard hands;

I like not him: besides, he is a thief. And justice Bramble, he would fain ha' catch'd me:

[life,

Lady, D. Turfe, Squire Tub, Hilts, Puppy, Clay.

Lad. And, as I told thee, she was intercepted [ruffian, By the 'squire, here, my son, and this bold His man; who safely would have carried her Unto her father, and the chanon Hugh; But for more care of the security, My huisher hath her now in his grave charge. [we are D. Tur. Now on my faith and holy-dom, Beholden to your worship. She's a girl, A foolish girl, and soon may tempted be: But if this day pass well once o'er her head, I'll wish her trust to herself. For I have been A very mother to her, though I say it. Tub. Madam, 'tis late, and Pancras is i'

Over the fields to Pancras, to your husband? D. Tur. Madam, I had been there an hour ago,

But that I waited on my man Ball Puppy.
What, Ball, I say, I think the idle slouch
Be fal'n asleep i' the barn, he stays so long.
Pup. Sattin, i' the name of velvet-sattin,
dame!

The devil! O the devil is in the barn:
Help, a legion- -spirit-legion
Is in the barn! in every straw a devil.
D. Tur. Why dost thou bawl so, Puppy?
speak, what ails thee?

Pup. My name's Ball Puppy, I ha' seen
the devil

go see.

Among the straw: O for a cross! a collop
Of friar Bacon, or a conjuring stick
Of doctor Faustus! spirits are in the barn.
Tub. How! spirits in the barn? Basket,
[over,
Hil. Sir, an' you were my master ten times
And 'squire to boot; I know, and you shall
pardon me :
[not:
Send me 'mong devils? I zee you love me
Hell be at their game: I'll not trouble them.
Tub. Go see; I warrant thee there's no

such matter.

[matter. Hil. An' they were giants, 'twere another But devils! no, if I be torn in pieces, What is your warrant worth? I'll see the fiend

Set fire o' the barn, ere I come there.
D. Tur. Now all zaints bless us, and if he
be there,

He is an ugly spright I warrant.
Pup. As ever

[rather: Held flesh-hook, dame, or handled fire-fork They have put me in a sweet pickle, dame; But that my lady Valentine smells of musk, I should be asham'd to press into this pre[miracle!

sence.

Lad. Basket, I pray thee see what is the Tub. Come, go with me: I'll lead. Why stand'st thou, man?

Hil. Cocks precious, master, you are not mad indeed?

You will not go to hell before your time?
Tub. Why art thou thus afraid?
Hil. No, not afraid:

[barn. But, by your leave, I'll come no near the D. Tur. Puppy, wilt thou go with me? Pup. How! go with you?

Whither, into the barn? to whom, the devil? Or to do what there? to be torn amongst 'um?

Stay for my master, the high constable,
Or In-and-in the headborough; let them go
Into the barn with warrant; seize the fiend;
And set him in the stocks for his ill rule:
'Tis not for me, that am but flesh and blood,
To meddle with 'un. Vor I cannot, nor I
wu' not.
[matter?
Lad. I pray thee, Tripoly, look what is the
Tub. That shall I, madam.

Hil. Heaven protect my master.
I tremble every joint till he be back.