 | The Maid in the Mill |  |
Scæna Prima.
Enter Bustofa.Bust.
The thundring Seas, whose watry fire washes
The whiting mops:
The gentle Whale whose feet so fell
Flies ore the Mountains tops.
within Franio.
Fra.
Boy.
Bust.
The thundring.
Fra.
Why boy Bustofa.
Bust.
Here I am, the gentle whale.
Ent. Franio.
Fra.
Oh, are you here Sir? where's your sister?
Bust.
The gentle whale flies ore the mountain tops.
Fra.
Where's your sister (man)
Bust.
Washes the whiting-Mops.
Fr.
Thou ly'st, she has none to wash mops?
The boy is half way out of his wits, sure:
Sirrha, who am I?
Bust.
The thundring Seas.
Fra.
Mad, stark mad.
Bust.
Will you not give a man leave to con?
Fra.
Yes, and fesse too, ere I have done with you Sirrha,
Am I your father?
Bust.
The question is too hard for a child, ask me any thing
That I have learn'd, and I'll answer you.
Fra.
Is that a hard question? Sirrha, am not I your Father?
Bust.
If I had my mother-wit I could tell you.
Fra.
Are you a thief?
Bust.
So far forth as the son of a Miller.
Fra.
Will you be hang'd?
Bust.
Let it go by eldership. The gentle Whale.
Fra.
Sirrha, lay by your foolish study there,
And beat your brains about your owne affairs: or—
Bust.
I thank you; you'ld have me goe under the sails
And beat my brains about your mill? a naturall
Father you are.—
Fran.
I charge you go not to the sports today:
Last night I gave you leave, now I recant.
Bust.
Is the wind turn'd since last night?
Fra.
Marry is it Sir, go no farther then my Mill;
There's my command upon you.
Bust.
I may go round about then as your Mill does?
I will see your Mill gelded, and his Stones fryde in steaks,
Ere I deceive the Countrey so: have I not my part to study?
How shall the sports go forward, if I be not there?
Fra.
They'll want their fool indeed, if thou bee'st not there.
Bust.
Consider that, and go your self.
Fra.
I have fears (Sir) that I cannot utter,
You go not, nor your Sister: there's my charge.
Bust.
The price of your golden thumb cannot hold me.
Fra.
I, this was sport that I have tightly lov'd,
I could have kept company with the Hounds.
Bust.
You are fit for no other company yet.
Fra.
Run with the Hare; and bin in the whore's tayl 'yfaith:
Bust.
That was before I was born,
Ent. Otrante and Gerasto.
I did ever mistrust I was a Bastard,
Because Lapis is in the singular number with me.
Otr.
Leave thou that gun (Gerasto) and chase here,
Do thou but follow it with my desires,
Thou'lt not return home emptie.
Ger.
I am prepard
(My Lord) with advantages: and see
Yonder's the subject I must work upon:
Otr.
Her Brother? 'tis, methinks it should be easie:
That grosse compound cannot but diffuse
The soul in such a latitude of ease,
As to make dull her faculties, and lazie:
What wit above the least can be in him,
That Reason ties together?
Ger.
I have prov'd it, Sir,
And know the depth of it: I have the way
To make him follow me a hackney-pace,
With all that flesh about him; yes, and dragge
His Sister after him: This baytes the old one,
Rid you him, and leave me to the other.
Exit.
Otr.
'Tis well: O Franio, the good day to you;
You were not wont to hear this musick standing:
The Beagle and the Bugle ye have lov'd,
In the first rank of Huntsmen.
Bust.
The doggs cry out of him now.
Fra.
Sirrha, leave your barking, I'll bite you else:
Bust.
Curre, Curre.
Fra.
Slave, do'st call me dog?
Otr.
Oh fie Sir, he speaks Latine to you,
He would know why you'll bite him.
Bust.
Responde cur; You see his understanding (my Lord)
Fra.
I shall have a time to curry you for this:
But (my Lord) to answer you, the daies have been
I must have footed it before this Horn-pipe,
Though I had hazarded my Mill a fire,
And let the stones grinde empty: but those dancings
Are done with me: I have good will to it still.
And that's the best I can do.
Otr.
Come, come, you shall be hors'd:
Your company deserves him, though you kil him,
Run him blind, I care not.
Bust.
Hee'll do't o'purpose (my Lord) to bring him up to the Mill.
Fra.
Do not tempt me too far (my Lord)
Otr.
There's a foot i'th' stirrop: I'll not leave you now:
You shall see the Game fall once again:
Fra.
Well (my Lord) I'll make ready my leggs for you,
And try 'em once a horsback: sirra: my charge, keep it.
Exit.
Bust.
Yes, when you pare down your dish for conscience sake.
When your thumb's coyn'd into bone & legalis,
When you are a true man-Miller.
Otr.
What's the matter Bustofa?
Bust.
My Lord; if you have ere a drunken Jade that has the staggers,
That will fall twice the height of our Mill with him: set him
O'th' back on him: a galled Jennet that will winch him out o' the
Saddle, and breake one on's necks, or a shank of him (there was
A fool going that way, but the Asse had better lucke;)
Or one of your brave Barbaries, that would passe the Straites, and run
Into his owne Countrey with him; the first Moor he met, would
Cut his throat for Complexions sake: there's as deadly feud between
A Moor and a Miller, as between black and white.
Otr.
Fie, fie, this is unnaturall Bustofa,
Unlesse on some strong cause.
Bust.
Be Judge (my Lord)
I am studied in my part: the Julian-Feast is to day: the Countrey
Expects me; I speak all the dumb shews: my sister chosen for
A Nimp. The gentle Whale whose feet so fell: Cry mercy,
6
And disappoint the Revels.
Otr.
Indeed, there it speaks shrewdly for thee; the Country expecting.
Bust.
I, and for mine own grace too.
Ot.
Yes, and being studied too: and the main Speaker too.
Bust.
The main? why all my Speech lies in the main,
And the dry ground together: The thundring seas, whose, &c.
Otr.
Nay, then thou must go, thou'lt be much condemn'd else.
But then o'th' other side, obedience.
Bust.
Obedience?
But speak your conscience now (my Lord)
Am not I past asking blessing at these yeers?
Speak as you'r a Lord, if you had a Miller to your father.
Otr.
I must yeeld to you (Bustofa), your reasons
Are so strong, I cannot contradict: This I think,
If you go, your sister ought to go along with you.
Bust.
There I stumble now: shee is not at age.
Otr.
Why? shee's fifteen, and upwards.
Bust.
Thereabouts.
Otr.
That's womans ripe age; as full as thou art
At one and twenty: shee's manable, is she not?
Bust.
I think not: poor heart, she was never tryde in my conscience.
'Tis a coy thing; she will not kisse you a clown, not if he
Would kisse her.
Otr.
What man?
Bust.
Not if he would kisse her, I say.
Otr.
Oh, 'twas cleanlier then I expected: well Sir.
I'll leave you to your own, but my opinion is,
You may take her along: this is half way:
The rest (Gerasto) and I hunt my prey.—
Exit.
Bust.
Away with the old Miller (my Lord) and the mill
Strikes sail presently.
Enter Pedro, with Gerasto blind, singing.
Song.
Ger.
Come follow me (you Country-Lasses)
And you shall see such sport as passes:
You shall dance, and I will sing;
Pedro hee shall rub the string:
Each shall have a loos-bodied gown
Of green; and laugh till you lie down.
Come follow me, come follow, &c.
Enter Florimell.
Bust.
O sweet Diego, the sweetest Diego, stay: Sister Florimell.
Flo.
What's that, Brother?
Bust.
Didst not hear Diego? Hear him, and thou'lt be ravish'd.
Flo.
I have heard him sing, yet unravish'd Brother.
Bust.
You had the better luck (Sister.) I was ravish'd
By mine own consent: Come away: for the Sports.
Flo.
I have the fear of a Father on me (Brother.)
Bust.
Out: the theef is as safe as in his mill; hee's hunting with our
Great Land-lord, the Don Otrante. Strike up Diego.
Flo.
But say he return before us, Where's our excuse?
Bust.
Strike up Diego. Hast no strings to thy apron?
Flo.
Well, the fault lie upon your head (Brother).
Bu.
My faults never mount so high (girl) they rise but to
My middle at most. Strike up Diego.
Ger.
Follow me by the ear, I'll lead thee on (Bustofa) and
Pretty Florimell thy Sister: oh that I could see her.
Bust.
Oh Diego, there's two pities upon thee; great pitie thou art blinde;
And as great a pitie thou canst not see.
Song.
Ger.
You shall have Crowns of Roses, Daysies,
Buds, where the honey-maker gazes:
You shall taste the golden thighs,
Such as in Wax-Chamber lies.
What fruit please you, taste, freely pull,
Till you have all your bellies full.
Come follow me, &c.
Bust.
O Diego, the Don was not so sweet when hee perfum'd the Steeple.
Exeunt.
| The Maid in the Mill | |