 | Sir Anthony Moore |  |
201
SCENE II.
A Cottage.Jasper, Kate.
Kate.
Ha, my old Jasper, hast thou heard the news?
The wondrous news?
Jas.
Not that I know of, dame.
But every thing's so wonderful with thee,
I cannot tell whether I have or not.
Kate.
Well, since you're in your taunting, testy moods,
You shall not hear a word on't.
Jas.
Oh, alack!
What a sore pity!—Great misfortune that!
Kate.
Dost mock? Or are you serious, Master Jasper?
202
Mock! I am serious as religion is.
Kate.
Oh, then I'll tell you all—But had you mock'd!—
Jas.
'Tis much the same—'twill out.
Kate.
Come, be good-natured, Jasper, and give up
That quippish way with me.
Jas.
Well, that I will, my good old Kate—As erst
I'll hear this wondrous mighty secret out,
And smile, although it should be a full hour
Before you reach the point, and haply then
I may not mark, or find the secret out;
Yet I will list well pleased, and say, “Indeed?
That is most wondrous!—Ay!—and is it thus?”
I'll do all this.
(Sits down and puts himself all right.)
Now, prithee, Kate, go on.
Kate.
Thou shalt not be so tried—The story's this,
We've changed our master.
203
(Starting up.)
Eh?—What?
Kate.
Is that a trifle?
Jas.
No—Eh? What of it?—say.
Kate.
We've changed our master.
Cecil, our lord, hath forfeited and fallen,
And all the land, farther than I know where,
Is given to that young Moore of Benendine,
And now we hold of him.
Jas.
I'm sorry for't.
A pest upon that Moore, if he hold on
He'll soon possess all England.—Is this truth?
Kate.
Most pointed, upright truth.
Jas.
I'm sorry for it!
Kate.
Why, Cecil was a tyrant.
Jas.
He was.
Kate.
And took our horses and our sons to service
Whene'er he listed.
Jas.
He did.
Kate.
Then why regret that we are freed of him?
204
I like not innovation so express,
Ere men have time to think on't—Nor to see
Old families pull'd down that long have borne
The credit of the land, through good and evil.
I'll not pay doit to Moore.
Kate.
Jasper, you're crazed—Oft have I heard you curse
Cecil, our lord, in bitterness of heart.
Jas.
'Tis false—I ne'er did so—and, if I did,
'Twas very wrong.
Kate.
Besides, remember we're in deep arrears,
Which we can ill repay—this frees us all.
Jas.
No, dame, it does not free us—true it is,
Mid such combustion it will ne'er be claim'd;
But something here tells me I am not free.
Hard though my ancient master was, I'll pay him,
Ay, to the utmost mail-mite.
205
Cub.
Ha, feather and muother!
Here's such a tragedy to be transacted!
O, it will be a garland for the maids
An' hundred years ago—when they shall hear
The Reldon tragedy how they will pipe!
Jas.
How now, son Cubbin?—stand, I pray thee, still,
And give us key to this your tragedy.
Cub.
(Pulling them.)
Come, come along, they're just a dying, sir.
Jas.
Who?—Pray, who are dying, boy?
Cub.
The women, sir—the women—come along,
What devil makes you stay?
Jas.
Hold—Stay—What women mean'st thou, boy?
Cub.
Why, the poor dying women—sure, I told you.
206
Not that I mark'd.
Cub.
I found them starving—one is the most lovely,
The other the most queer of all the seck.
She scarce had voice remaining when I went;
I look'd at her, and thought her gone indeed.
Poor wife, said I—and I was weeping too—
I fear thy glass is run—'tis o'er with thee!
But 'tis less matter, thou hast served thy time!
I must take care of thee, thou pretty young thing.
And, when I said so, the old creature laugh'd.
Jas.
Laugh'd!—Did she laugh?
Cub.
She laugh'd outright.
And though 'twas like the cackle in the dawn
Of starving hen that hatches in the wood,
Yet still she laugh'd. (Mimicking.)
I told you so, cried she.
Did I not tell you so, love Caroline?
And then she held her sides, and laugh'd, and cried.
207
That you'll not run to save the dead?—
(Exit, pulling them.)
| Sir Anthony Moore | |