University of Virginia Library

Scene I.

Turfe. Clench. Medlay. To-Pan. Scriben. Clay.
Tur.
Passion of me, was ever man thus cross'd?
All things run Arsie-Varsie; upside downe.
High Constable! Now by our Lady o'Walsingham.
I had rather be mark'd out Tom Scavinger:
And with a shovell make cleane the high wayes,
Then have this office of a Constable,
And a high Constable! The higher charge
It brings more trouble, more vexation with it.
Neighbours, good neighbours, 'vize me what to doe:
How wee shall beare us in this Huy and Cry.
We cannot find the Captaine; no such man
Lodg'd at the Lion, nor came thither hurt.
The morning wee ha' spent in privie search;
And by that meanes the Bride-ale is differr'd;
The Bride, shee's left alone in Puppie's charge;
The Bride-groome goes under a paire of sureties;
And held of all as a respected person.
How should we bussle forward? Gi' some counsell,
How to bestirre our stumps i' these crosse wayes.

Cle.
Faith Gossip Turfe, you have, you say, Remission,
To comprehend all such, as are dispected:
Now, would I make another privie search
Through this Towne, and then you have zearch'd two towns.

Med.
Masters, take heed, let's not vind too many:
One's enough to stay the Hang-mans stomack.
There is Iohn Clay, who is yvound already;
A proper man: A Tile-man by his trade:
A man as one would zay, moulded in clay:
As spruce as any neighbours child among you:
And he (you zee) is taken on conspition,
And two, or three (they zay) what call you 'hem?
Zuch as the Justices of Coram nobis
Grant—(I forget their names, you ha' many on 'hem,
Mr. High Constable they come to you.)
I ha' it at my tongues end—Cunni-borroughes,
To bring him straight avore the zessions house.

Tur.
O you meane warrens, neighbour, doe you not?

Med.
I, I, thick same! you know 'un well enough.

Tur.
Too well, too well; wou'd I had never knowne 'hem.
Wee good Vree-holders cannot live in quiet,
But every houre new purcepts, Huy's and Cry's,
Put us to requisitions night and day:
What shud a man zay, shud we leave the zearch?
I am in danger, to reburse as much
As he was rob'd on; I, and pay his hurts,
If I should vollow it, all the good cheare
That was provided; for the wedding dinner
Is spoil'd, and lost. Oh there are two vat pigs,
A zindging by the vier: Now by Saint Tomy,
Too good to eate, but on a wedding day;
And then, a Goose will bid you all, Come cut me.
Zun Clay, zun Clay (for I must call thee so)
Be of good comfort; take my Muckinder;
And dry thine eyes. If thou beest true, and honest;
And if thou find'st thy conscience cleare vrom it,
Pluck up a good heart, wee'll doe well enough.
If not, confesse a truths name. But in faith
I durst be sworne upon all holy bookes,
Iohn Clay would nere commit a Robberie
On his owne head.

Cla.
No; Truth is my rightfull Judge:
I have kept my hands, here hence, fro' evill speaking,
Lying, and slandering; and my tongue from stealing.
He doe not live this day can say, Iohn Clay
I ha' zeene thee, but in the way of honesty.

Pan.
Faith neighbour Medlay, I durst be his burrough,
He would not looke a true man in the vace.

Cla.
I take the towne to concord, where I dwell,
All Kilburne be my witnesse; If I were not
Begot in bashfulnesse, brought up in shamefac'tnesse:
Let 'un bring a dog, but to my vace, that can
Zay, I ha' beat 'hun, and without a vault;
Or but a cat, will sweare upon a booke,
I have as much as zet a vier her taile;
And Ile give him, or her a crowne for 'mends.
But to give out, and zay, I have rob'd a Captaine!
Receive me at the latter day, if I
Ere thought of any such matter; or could mind it—.

Med.
No Iohn, you are come of too good personage;
I thinke my Gossip Clench, and Mr. Turfe
Both thinke, you would ra'tempt no such voule matter.

Tur.
But how unhappily it comes to passe!
Just on the wedding day! I cry me mercy:
I had almost forgot the Huy and Cry:
Good neighbour Pan, you are the Third-burrow,
And D'ogenes Scriben, you my learned Writer,
Make out a new purcept—Lord, for thy goodnesse,
I had forgot my Daughter, all this while;
The idle knave hath brought no newes from her.
Here comes the sneaking Puppy; What's the newes?
My heart! my heart! I feare all is not well,
Some things mishap'd , that he is come without her.