University of Virginia Library

Scene. VI.

Mere-craft. Pitfall. Pvg. Traines.
Offers to kisse.
[Mer.]
Come, I must busse—

Pit.
Away.

Mer.
I'll set thee vp again.
Neuer feare that: canst thou get ne'r a bird?
No Thrushes hungry? Stay, till cold weather come,
I'll help thee to an Onsell, or, a Field-fare.
She runs in, in haste: he followes.
Who's within, with Madame?

Pit.
I'll tell you straight.

Mer.
Please you stay here, a while Sir, I'le goe in.

Pvg.
I doe so long to haue a little venery,
Pug leaps at Pitfall's comming in.
While I am in this body! I would tast
Of euery sinne, a little, if it might be
After the māner of man! Sweet-heart!

Pit.
What would you, Sr?

Pvg.
Nothing but fall in, to you, be your Black-bird,
My pretty pit (as the Gentleman said) your Throstle:
Lye tame, and taken with you; here 'is gold!
To buy you so much new stuffes, from the shop,
Traine's in his false cloak, brings a false message, and gets the ring. Mere-craft followes presently, and askes for it. Ent. Train's as himselfe againe.
As I may take the old vp—

Tra.
You must send, Sir.
The Gentleman the ring.

Pvg.
There 'tis. Nay looke,
Will you be foolish, Pit,

Pit.
This is strange rudenesse.

Pvg.
Deare Pit.

Pit.
I'll call, I sweare.

Mer.
Where are you, Sr?
Is your ring ready? Goe with me.

Pvg.
I sent it you.

Mer.
Me? When? by whom?

Pvg.
A fellow here, e'en now,
Came for it i'your name.

Mer.
I sent none, sure.
My meaning euer was, you should deliuer it,
Your selfe: So was your Masters charge, you know.
What fellow was it, doe you know him?

Pvg.
Here,
But now, he had it.

Mer.
Saw you any? Traines?

Tra.
Not I.

Pvg.
The Gentleman saw him.

Mer.
Enquire.

Pvg.
I was so earnest vpon her, I mark'd not!
The Diuell confesseth himselfe coozen'd.
My diuellish Chiefe has put mee here in flesh,
To shame mee! This dull body I am in,
I perceiue nothing with! I offer at nothing,
That will succeed!

Tra.
Sir, she saw none, she saies.

Pvg.
Satan himselfe, has tane a shape t'abuse me.
It could not be else!

Mer.
This is aboue strange!
Mere-craft accuseth him of negligence.
That you should be so retchlesse. What'll you do, Sir?
How will you answer this, when you are question'd?

Pvg.
Run from my flesh, if I could: put off mankind!
This's such a scorne! and will be a new exercise,
For my Arch-Duke! Woe to the seuerall cudgells,
Must suffer, on this backe! Can you no succours? Sir?

He asketh ayde.
Mer.
Alas! the vse of it is so present.

Pvg.
I aske,
Sir, credit for another, but till to morrow?

Mer.
There is not so much time, Sir. But how euer,
The Lady is a noble Lady, and will
(To saue a Gentleman from check) be intreated
To say, she ha's receiu'd it.

Pvg.
Do you thinke so?
Mere-craft promiseth faintly, yet comforts him.
Will shee be won?

Mer.
No doubt, to such an office,
It will be a Lady's brauery, and her pride.

Pvg.
And not be knowne on't after, vnto him?

Mer.
That were a treachery! Vpon my word,
Be confident. Returne vnto your master,
My Lady President sits this after-noone,
Ha's tane the ring, commends her seruices
Vnto your Lady-Dutchesse. You may say
She's a ciuill Lady, and do's giue her
All her respects, already: Pad you, tell her
She liues, but to receiue her wish'd commandements,
And haue the honor here to kisse her hands:
For which shee'll stay this houre yet. Hasten you
Your Prince, away.

Pvg.
And Sir, you will take care
The Diuel is doubtfull.
Th'excuse be perfect?

Mer.
You confesse your feares.
Too much.

Pvg.
The shame is more, I'll quit you of either.