University of Virginia Library

Scene V.

Tub. Awdrey. Hilts. Metaphore.
To them.
Lady. Pol-marten.
Tub.
Welcome againe my Awdrey: welcome Love:
You shall with me; in faith deny me not.
I cannot brook the second hazzard Mistris.

Awd.
Forbeare Squire Tub, as mine owne mother sayes,
I am not for your mowing. Youle be flowne
Ere I be fledge.

Hil.
Hast thou the money Miles?

Met.
Here are two bags, there's fiftie pound in each.

Tub.
Nay Awdrey, I possesse you for this time:
Sirs; Take that coyne betweene you, and divide it.
My pretty sweeting give me now the leave
To challenge love, and marriage at your hands.

Awd.
Now, out upon you, are you not asham'd?
What will my Lady say? In faith I thinke
She was at our house: And I thinke shee ask'd for you:
And I thinke she hit me i'th' teeth with you,
I thanke her Ladiship, and I thinke she meanes
Not to goe hence, till she has found you. How say you?

Tub.
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,
Comes in my mind, to leave the way to Totten,
And turne to Kentish-Towne, againe my journey:
And see my sonne Pol-marten with his Awdrey:
Erewhile we left her at her fathers house:
And hath he thence remov'd her in such haste!
What shall I doe? shall I speake faire, or chide?

Pol.
Madam, your worthy sonne, with dutious care,
Can governe his affections: Rather then
Breake off their conference some other way,
Pretending ignorance of what you know.

Tub.
And this all, faire Awdrey: I am thine.

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

Hil.
'Slid my Lady! my Lady!

Met.
Is this my Lady bright?

Tub.
Madam, you tooke me now a little tardie.

Lad.
At prayers, I thinke you were: what, so devout
Of late, that you will shrive you to all Confessors
You meet by chance? Come, goe with me, good Squire,
And leave your linnen: I have now a busines,
And of importance, to impart unto you.

Tub.
Madam, I pray you, spare me but an houre;
Please you to walke before, I follow you.

Lad.
It must be now, my busines lies this way.

Tub.
Will not an houre hence, Madam, excuse me?

Lad.
Squire, these excuses argue more your guilt.
You have some new device now, to project,
Which the poore Tile-man scarce will thanke you for.
What? will you goe?

Tub.
I ha' tane a charge upon me,
To see this Maid conducted to her Father,
Who, with the Chanon Hugh, staies her at Pancrace,
To see her married to the same Iohn Clay.

Lad.
Tis very well; but Squire take you no care.
Ile send Pol-marten with her, for that office:
You shall along with me; it is decreed.

Tub.
I have a little busines, with a friend Madam.

Lad.
That friend shall stay for you, or you for him.
Pol-marten; Take the Maiden to your care;
Commend me to her Father.

Tub.
I will follow you.

Lad.
Tut, tell not me of following.

Tub.
Ile but speake
A word.

Lad.
No whispering: you forget your selfe,
And make your love too palpable: A Squire?
And thinke so meanely? fall upon a Cow-shard?
You know my mind. Come, Ile to Turfe's house,
And see for Dido, and our Valentine.
They all goe out but Pol-marten and Awdrey.
Pol-marten, looke to your charge; Ile looke to mine.

Pol.
I smile to thinke after so many proffers
This Maid hath had, she now should fall to me:
That I should have her in my custody:
Twere but a mad trick to make the essay,
And jumpe a match with her immediately:
She's faire, and handsome: and shee's rich enough:
Both time, and place minister faire occasion:
Have at it then: Faire 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 withall.

Pol.
Wee will not stand discoursing o' the toy:
The way is short, please you to prov't Mistris?

Awd.
If you doe meane to stand so long upon it;
I pray you let me give it a short cut, Sir.

Pol.
It's thus, faire Maid: Are you dispos'd to marry?

Awd.
You are dispos'd to aske.

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 plaine termes, tell me, Will you have me Awdrey?

Awd.
In as plaine termes, I tell you who would ha' me.
Iohn Clay would ha' me, but he hath too hard hands;
I like not him: besides, hee is a thiefe.
And Justice Bramble, he would faine ha' catch'd me:
But the young Squire, hee, rather then his life,
Would ha' me yet; and make me a Lady, hee sayes,
And be my Knight; to doe me true Knights service,
Before his Lady Mother. Can you make me
A Lady, would I ha' you?

Pol.
I can gi' you
A silken Gowne, and a rich Petticoat:
And a french Hood. All fooles love to be brave:
I find her humour, and I will pursue it.