 | Iacob and Esau |  |
Scæna prima.
Ragauthe seruant. Esau a yong man his maister.
Ragau entreth with his horn at his back, and his huntyng staffe in hys hande, and leadeth .iij. greyhounds or one as may be gotten.
Now lette me see what tyme it is by the starre light?
Gods for his grace man, why it is not yet midnight,
We might haue slept these four houres yet I dare well say.
But this is our good Esau his common play:
What the dyuell ayleth him? now truly I thinke plaine,
He hath either some wormes or bottes in his braine.
He scarcely sleepeth .xij. good houres in two weekes.
I wote wel his watching maketh me haue leane cheekes.
For there is none other life with hym day by day,
Here he counterfaiteth how his maister calleth hym vp in the mornings, and of his answeres.
But vp Ragau, vp drousy hogges head I say:
Why when? Up, will it not be? Up. I come anon.
Up, or I shall reyse you in fayth ye drousy hooreson.
Why, when? shall I fette you? I come syr by and by.
Up with a wilde wenyon, how long wilt thou lie?
Up I say, vp at once. Up vp, let vs goe hence,
It is tyme we were in the forrest an houre sence.
Nowe the deuill stoppe that same yallyng throte (thynke I)
Somwhiles. For from he call, farewell all winke of eye.
Begin he once to call, I sleepe no more that stounde,
Though half an houres slepe wer worth .x. thousand poūd.
Anon when I come in, and bydde him good morow:
Ah syr, vp at last, the deuyll gyue thee sorow.
Nowe the diuell breake thy necke (thinke I by and by)
That hast no witte to sleape, nor in thy bedde to lye.
Then come on at once, take my quiuer and my bowe,
Fette Louell my hounde, and my horne to blowe.
Then forth goe we fastyng an houre or two ere day,
Before we may well see either our handes or way,
From morning to starck night coming within our head,
Sometime Esaus selfe will faynt for drinke and meate:
So that he would be glad of a dead horse to eate.
Yet of freshe the next morow foorth he will againe,
And somtime not come home in a whole night or twaine:
Nor no delite he hath, no appetite nor minde
But to the wilde Forrest, to hunt the Harte or Hinde,
The Roebucke, the wilde bore, the fallow Deere, or Hare:
But howe poore Ragau shall dine, he hath no care,
Poore I, must eate Acornes or Bearies from the Tree.
But if I be founde slacke in the sute folowing,
Or if I do fayle in blowing or hallowing,
Or if I lacke my Staffe, or my Horne by my syde:
He will be quicke inough to fume chafe, and chide.
Am I not well at ease suche a mayster to serue,
As must haue such seruice, and yet will let me sterue?
But in faith his fashions displease moe than me,
And will haue but a madde ende one day we shall see.
He passeth nothing on Rebecca his mother,
And much lesse passeth he on Iacob hys brother.
Here Esau appereth in sight, and bloweth his Horne, ere he enter.
But peace, mumme, no more: I see maister Esau.
Esau.
Howe nowe, are we all ready seruaunt Ragau?
Art thou vp for all day man? art thou ready now?
Ragau.
I haue ben here this halfe houre syr waityng for you.
Esau.
And is all thing ready as I bad, to my mynde?
Ragau.
Ye haue no cause, that I know, any fault to fynde:
Except that we disease our tent and neighbours all
With rising ouer early eche day when ye call.
Esau.
Ah thou drousy draffesacke, wouldest thou ryse at noone?
Nay I trow the sixth houre with thee were ouersoone.
Ragau.
Nay I speake of your neighbours being men honest,
That labour all the day, and would faine be at rest:
Whom with blowing your Horne ye disease al aboutes.
Esau.
What care I for waking a sorte of clubbishe loutes?
And I speake of Rebecca your mother, our dame.
Esau.
Tutte I passe not whether she doe me prayse or blame.
Ragau.
And I speake of your good father, olde Isaac.
Esau.
Peace foolishe knaue: As for my father Isaac,
In case he be a sleepe, I doe him not disease,
And if he be waking, I knowe I do him please,
For he loueth me well from myne natiuitie,
And neuer so as now, for myne actiuitie.
Therfore haue at it, once more will I blow my Horne
Here Esau bloweth his horn agayne.
To giue my neighbour loutes an haile peale in a morne.
Now my maister Lightfoote, how say you to this geare,
Here he speaketh to hys Dogges.
Will you do your duetie to redde or fallow Deare?
And Swan mine owne good curre, I do think in my minde,
The game shal runne apace, if thou come farre behinde:
And ha Takepart, come Takepart, here, how say you child
Wilt not thou do thy part? yes, else I am beguilde.
But I shrewe your cheekes, they haue had too much meat.
Ragau.
I blame not dogges to take it, if they may it geat:
But as for my parte, they coulde haue pardie,
A small releuauit of that that ye giue me.
They may runne light inough for ought of me they got,
I had not a good meales meate this weeke that I wot.
Esau.
If we haue lucke thys day to kill Hare, Teg, or Doe,
Thou shalt eate thy belly full, tyll thou cryest hoe.
Ragau.
I thanke you when I haue it, mayster Esau.
Esau.
Well, come on, let vs goe nowe seruant Ragau.
Is there any thing more, that I shoulde say or do?
For perhaps we come not againe this day or two.
Ragau.
I know nothing maister, to God I make a vow,
Except you woulde take your brother Iacob with you:
I neuer yet sawe hym with you an hunting goe,
Shall we proue hym once whether he will goe or no?
Esau.
No, no, that were in vaine: Alas good simple mome.
Nay, he must tarrie and sucke mothers dugge at home:
Iacob must keepe home I trow, vnder mothers wing,
Iacob loueth no huntyng in the wylde forest:
And would feare if he shoulde there see any wylde beast.
Yea to see the game runne, Iacob would be in feare.
Ragau.
In good sooth I wene he would think eche Hare a Beare.
Esau.
What brother myne, what a worde call ye that?
Ragau.
Syr I am scarse waked: I spake ere I wyst what.
Esau.
Come on your ways my childe, take the law of the game.
I will wake you I trowe, and set your tongue in frame.
Ragau.
Oh what haue you done maister Esau, Gods apes.
Esau.
Why can ye not yet refraine from lettyng such scapes?
Come on, ye must haue three iertes for the nonce.
One.
Ragau.
Oh, for Gods loue syr haue done, dispatche at once.
Esau.
Nay there is no remedy but byde it, there is twaine.
Ragau.
O ye rent my cheuerell, let me be past my paine.
Esau.
Take hede of Hūting termes frō hensforth, there is three.
Ragau.
Whoup. Nowe a mischief on all mopyng fooles for mee.
Iacob shall keepe the Tentes tenne yeare for Ragau,
Ere I moue agayne that he hunt wyth Esau.
Esau.
Come on, now let vs goe. God sende vs game and lucke,
And if my hande serue me well,
Ragau.
Ye wyll kill a Ducke.
Exeant ambo.
| Iacob and Esau | |