A
pleasant
Comedie
of
the
Gentle
Craft
.
Enter
Lord
Maior
,
Lincolne
.
Lincolne
.
MY
Lord
Maior
,
you
haue
sundrie
times
Feasted
my selfe
,
and
many
Courtiers
more
,
Seldome
,
or
neuer
can
we
be
so
kind
,
To
make
requitall
of
your
curtesie
:
But
leauing
this
,
I
heare
my
cosen
Lacie
Is
much
affected
to
your
daughter
Rose
.
L.
Maior
.
True
my
good
Lord
,
and
she
loues
him
so
wel
,
That
I
mislike
her
boldnesse
in
the
chace
.
Lincol.
Why
my
lord
Maior
,
think
you
it
then
a
shame
,
To
ioyne
a
Lacie
with
an
Otleys
name
?
L.
Maior
.
Too
meane
is
my
poore
girle
for
his
high
birth
,
Poore
Cittizens
must
not
with
Courtiers
wed
,
Who
will
in
silkes
,
and
gay
apparrell
spend
More
in
one
yeare
,
then
I
am
worth
by
farre
,
Therefore
your
honour
néede
not
doubt
my
girle
.
Lincolne
.
Take
héede
my
Lord
,
aduise
you
what
you
do
,
A
berier
vnthrist
liues
not
in
the
world
,
Then
is
my
cosen
,
for
Ile
tel
you
what
,
Tis
now
almost
a
yeare
since
he
requested
To
trauell
countries
for
experience
,
I
furnisht
him
with
coyne
,
billes
of
exchange
,
Letters
of
credite
,
men
to
waite
on
him
,
Solicited
my
friends
in
Italie
Well
to
respect
him
:
but
to
sée
the
end
:
Scant
had
he
iornied
through
halfe
Germanie
,
But
all
his
coyne
was
spent
,
his
men
cast
off
,
His
billes
imbezeld
,
and
my
iolly
coze
,
Asham'd
to
shew
his
bankerupt
presence
here
,
Became
a
Shoomaker
in
Wittenberg
,
A
goodly
science
for
a
gentleman
Of
such
discent
:
now
iudge
the
rest
by
this
.
Suppose
your
daughter
haue
a
thousand
pound
,
He
did
consume
me
more
in
one
halfe
yeare
,
And
make
him
heyre
to
all
the
wealth
you
haue
,
One
twelue moneth's
rioting
wil
waste
it
all
,
Then
seeke
(
my
Lord
)
some
honest
Cittizen
To
wed
your
daughter
to
.
L.
Maior
.
I
thanke
your
Lordship
,
Wel
Fore
,
I
understand
your
subtiltie
,
As
for
your
nephew
,
let
your
lordships
eie
But
watch
his
actions
,
and
you
néede
not
feare
,
For
I
haue
my
daughter
farre
enough
,
And
yet
your
cosen
Rowland
might
do
well
Now
he
hath
learn'd
an
occupation
,
And
yet
I
scorne
to
call
him
sonne
in
law
.
Lincolne
.
I
but
I
haue
a
better
trade
for
him
,
I
thanke
his
grace
he
hath
appointed
him
,
Chiefe
colonell
of
all
those
companies
Mustred
in
London
,
and
the
shires
about
,
To
serue
his
highnesse
in
those
warres
of
France
:
Sée
where
he
comes
:
Louel
what
newes
with
you
?
Enter
Louell
,
Lacie
,
and
Askew
.
Louell
.
My
Lord
of
Lincolne
,
tis
his
highnesse
will
,
That
presently
your
cosen
ship
for
France
With
all
his
powers
,
he
would
not
for
a
million
,
But
they
should
land
at
Déepe
within
foure
daies
.
Linc.
Goe
certifie
his
grace
it
shall
be
done
:
Exit
Louell
.
Now
cosen
Lacie
,
in
what
forwardnesse
Are
all
your
companies
?
Lacie
.
All
well
prepar'd
,
The
men
of
Hartfordshire
lie
at
Mile
end
,
Suffolke
,
and
Essex
,
traine
in
Tuttle
fields
,
The
Londoners
,
and
those
of
Middlesex
,
All
gallantly
prepar'd
in
Finsbury
,
With
frolike
spirits
,
long
for
their
parting
hower
.
L.
Maior
They
haue
their
imprest
,
coates
,
and
furniture
,
And
if
it
please
your
cosen
Lacie
come
To
the
Guild Hall
,
he
shall
receiue
his
pay
,
And
twentie
pounds
besides
my
brethren
Will
fréely
giue
him
,
to
approue
our
loues
We
beare
vnto
my
Lord
your
vncle
here
.
Lacie
.
I
thanke
your
honour
.
Lincolne
.
Thankes
my
good
Lord
Maior
.
L.
Ma.
At
the
Guild
Hal
we
wil
expect
your
comming
,
Exit
.
Lincolne
.
To
approue
your
loues
to
me
?
no
subtiltie
Nephew
:
that
twentie
pound
he
doth
bestow
,
For
ioy
to
rid
you
from
his
daughter
Rose
:
But
cosens
both
,
now
here
are
none
but
friends
,
I
would
not
haue
you
cast
an
amorous
eie
Upon
so
meane
a
proiect
,
as
the
loue
Of
a
gay
wanton
painted
cittizen
,
I
know
this
churle
,
even
in
the
height
of
scorne
,
Doth
hate
the
mixture
of
his
bloud
with
thine
,
I
pray
thée
do
thou
so
,
remember
coze
,
What
honourable
fortunes
wayt
on
thée
,
Increase
the
kings
loue
which
so
brightly
shines
,
And
gilds
thy
hopes
,
I
haue
no
heire
but
thée
:
And
yet
not
thée
,
if
with
a
wayward
spirit
,
Thou
start
from
the
true
byas
of
my
loue
.
Lacie
.
My
Lord
,
I
will
(
for
honor
(
not
desire
Of
land
or
liuings
)
or
to
be
your
heire
)
So
guide
my
actions
in
pursuit
of
France
,
As
shall
adde
glorie
to
the
Lacies
name
.
Lincolne
.
Coze
,
for
those
words
heres
thirtie
Portugues
And
Nephew
Askew
,
there's
a
few
for
you
,
Faire
Honour
in
her
loftiest
eminence
Staies
in
France
for
you
till
you
fetch
her
thence
,
Then
Nephewes
,
clap
swift
wings
on
your
dissignes
,
Be
gone
,
be
gone
,
make
haste
to
the
Guild Hall
,
There
presently
Ile
méete
you
,
do
not
stay
,
Where
honour
becomes
,
shame
attends
delay
.
Exit
.
Askew
.
How
gladly
would
your
vncle
haue
you
gone
?
Lacie
.
True
coze
,
but
Ile
ore-reach
his
policies
,
I
haue
some
serious
businesse
for
thrée
dayes
,
Which
nothing
but
my
presence
can
dispatch
,
You
therefore
cosen
with
the
companies
Shall
hasse
to
Douer
,
there
Ile
méete
with
you
,
Or
if
I
stay
past
my
prefixed
time
,
Away
for
France
,
weele
meete
in
Normandie
,
The
twentie
pounds
my
Lord
Maior
giues
to
me
You
shall
receiue
,
and
these
ten
portugues
,
Part
of
mine
vncles
thirtie
,
gentle
coze
,
Haue
care
to
our
great
charge
,
I
know
your
wisedome
Hath
tride
it selfe
in
higher
consequence
.
Askew
.
Coze
,
al
my selfe
am
yours
,
yet
haue
this
care
,
To
lodge
in
London
with
al
secresie
,
Our
vncle
Lincolne
hath
(
besides
his
owne
)
Many
a
iealous
eie
,
that
in
your
face
Stares
onely
to
watch
meanes
for
your
disgrace
.
Lacie
.
Stay
cosen
,
who
be
these
?
Enter
Symon
Eyre
,
his
wife
,
Hodge
,
Firk
,
Iane
,
&
Rafe
with
a
peece
.
Eyre
.
Leaue
whining
,
leaue
whining
,
away
with
this
whimpring
,
this
pewling
,
these
blubbring
teares
,
and
these
wet
eies
,
Ile
get
thy
husband
discharg'd
,
I
warrant
thee
swéete
Iane
:
go
to
.
Hodge
.
Master
,
here
be
the
captaines
.
Eyre
.
Peace
Hodge
,
husht
ye
knaue
,
husht
.
Firke
Here
be
the
caualiers
,
and
the
coronels
,
maister
.
Eyre
.
Peace
Firke
,
peace
my
fine
Firke
,
stand
by
with
your
pishery pasherie
,
away
,
I
am
a
man
of
the
best
presence
,
Ile
speake
to
them
and
they
were
Popes
,
gentlemen
,
captaines
,
colonels
,
commanders
:
braue
men
,
braue
leaders
,
may
it
please
you
to
giue
me
audience
,
I
am
Simon
Eyre
,
the
mad
Shoomaster
of
Towerstréete
,
this
wench
with
the
mealy
mouth
that
wil
neuer
tire
,
is
my
wife
I
can
tel
you
,
heres
Hodge
my
man
,
and
my
foreman
,
heres
Firke
my
fine
firking
iourneyman
,
and
this
is
blubbered
Iane
,
al
we
come
to
be
suters
for
this
honest
Rafe
kéepe
him
at
home
,
and
as
I
am
a
true
shoomaker
,
and
a
gentleman
of
the
Gentle
Craft
,
buy
spurs
your self
,
and
Ile
find
ye
bootes
these
seuen
yéeres
.
Wife
.
Seuen
yeares
husband
?
Eyre
.
Peace
Midriffe
,
peace
,
I
know
what
I
do
,
peace
.
Firk.
Truly
master
cormorant
,
you
shal
do
God
good
seruice
to
let
Rafe
and
his
wife
stay
together
,
shées
a
yong
new
married
woman
,
if
you
take
her
husband
away
from
her
a
night
,
you
vndoo
her
,
she
may
beg
in
the
day
time
,
for
hées
as
good
a
workman
at
a
pricke
&
an
awle
,
as
any
is
in
our
trade
.
Iane
.
O
let
him
stay
,
else
I
shal
be
vndone
.
Firke
.
I
truly
,
she
shal
be
laid
at
one
side
like
a
paire
of
old
shooes
else
,
and
be
occupied
for
no
vse
.
Lacie
.
Truly
my
friends
,
it
lies
not
in
my
power
,
The
Londoners
are
prest
,
paide
,
and
set
forth
By
the
Lord
Maior
,
I
cannot
change
a
man
.
Hodge
.
Why
then
you
were
as
good
be
a
corporall
,
as
a
colonel
,
if
you
cannot
discharge
one
good
fellow
,
and
I
tell
you
true
,
I
thinke
you
doe
more
then
you
can
answere
,
to
presie
a
man
within
a
yeare
and
a
day
of
his
mariage
.
Eyre
.
Wel
said
melancholy
Hodge
,
gramercy
my
fine
foreman
.
Wife
.
Truly
gentlemen
,
it
were
il
done
,
for
such
as
you
,
to
stand
so
stiffely
against
a
poore
yong
wife
:
considering
her
case
,
she
is
new
married
,
but
let
that
passe
:
I
pray
deale
not
roughly
with
her
,
her
husband
is
a
yong
man
and
but
newly
entred
,
but
let
that
passe
.
Eyre
.
Away
with
your
pisherie pasherie
,
your
pols
and
your
edipolls
,
peace
Midaffe
,
silence
Cisly
Bumtrincket
,
let
your
head
speake
.
Firke
.
Yea
and
the
hornes
too
,
master
.
Eyre
.
Too
soone
,
my
fine
Firk
,
too
soone
:
peace
scoundrels
,
see
you
this
man
?
Captaines
,
you
will
not
release
him
,
wel
let
him
go
,
hée's
a
proper
shot
,
let
him
vanish
,
peace
Iane
,
drie
vp
thy
teares
,
theile
make
his
powder
darkish
,
take
him
braue
men
,
Hector
of
Troy
was
an
hackney
to
him
,
Hercules
and
Termagant
scoundrelles
,
Prince
Arthurs
Round
table
,
by
the
Lord
of
Lutgate
,
nere
fed
such
a
tall
,
such
a
dapper
swordman
:
by
the
life
of
Pharo
,
a
braue
resolute
swordman
,
peace
Iane
,
I
say
no
more
,
mad
knaues
.
Firk.
Sée
,
see
Hodge
,
how
my
maister
raues
in
commendation
of
Rafe
.
Hodge
.
Raph
,
thart
a
gull
by
this
hand
,
and
thou
goest
.
Askew
.
I
am
glad
(
good
master
Ayre
)
it
is
my
hap
To
méete
so
resolute
a
souldiour
.
Trust
me
,
for
your
report
,
and
loue
to
him
,
A
common
flight
regard
shall
not
respect
him
.
Lacie
.
Is
thy
name
Raph
?
Raph.
Yes
sir
.
Lacie
.
Giue
me
thy
hand
,
Thou
shalt
not
want
,
as
I
am
a
gentleman
:
Woman
,
be
patient
,
God
(
no
doubt
)
wil
send
Thy
husband
safe
againe
,
but
he
must
go
,
His
countries
quarrel
sayes
,
it
shall
be
so
.
Hodge
Thart
a
gull
by
my
stirrop
,
if
thou
dost
not
goe
,
I
wil
not
haue
thée
strike
thy
gimblet
into
these
weake
vessels
,
pricke
thine
enemies
Rafe
.
Enter
Dodger
.
Dodger
My
lord
,
your
vncle
on
the
Tower
hill
,
Stayes
with
the
lord
Mayor
,
and
the
Aldermen
,
And
doth
request
you
with
al
spéede
you
may
To
hasten
thither
.
exit
Dodger
.
Askew
Cosin
,
lets
go
.
Lacy
,
Dodger
runne
you
before
,
tel
them
we
come
,
This
Dodger
is
mine
vncles
parasite
,
The
arrantst
varlet
that
ere
breathd
on
earth
,
He
sets
more
discord
in
a
noble
house
,
By
one
daies
broching
of
his
pickethanke
fales
,
Then
can
be
salu'd
againe
in
twentie
yeares
,
And
he
(
I
feare
)
shall
go
with
vs
to
France
,
To
prie
into
our
actions
.
Askew
.
Therefore
coze
,
It
shall
behooue
you
to
be
circumspect
,
Lacy.
Feare
not
good
cosen
:
Raph
,
hie
to
your
colours
.
Raph.
I
must
,
because
theres
no
remedie
,
But
gentle
maister
and
my
louing
dame
,
As
you
haue
alwaies
béene
a
friend
to
me
,
So
in
mine
absence
thinke
vpon
my
wife
.
Iane
.
Alas
my
Raph
.
Wife
.
She
cannot
speake
for
wéeping
.
Eyre
.
Peace
you
crackt
groates
,
you
mustard
tokens
,
disquiet
not
the
braue
souldier
,
goe
thy
waies
Raph
.
Iane
.
I
I
,
you
bid
him
go
,
what
shal
I
do
when
he
is
gone
?
Firk.
Why
be
doing
with
me
,
or
my
felow
Hodge
,
be
not
idle
.
Eyre
.
Let
me
sée
thy
hand
Iane
,
this
fine
hand
,
this
white
hand
,
these
prettie
fingers
must
spin
,
must
card
,
must
worke
,
worke
you
bembast
cotten-candle-queane
,
worke
for
your
liuing
with
a
pox
to
you
:
hold
thée
Raph
,
heres
fiue
sixpences
for
thée
,
fight
for
the
honour
of
the
Gentle
Craft
,
for
the
gentlemen
Shoomakers
,
the
couragious
Cordwainers
,
the
flower
of
S.
Martins
,
the
mad
knaues
of
Bedlem
,
Fléetstréete
,
Towerstréete
,
and
white
Chappell
,
cracke
me
the
crownes
of
the
French
knaues
,
a
pore
on
them
,
cracke
them
,
fight
,
by
the
lord
of
Ludgate
,
fight
my
fine
boy
.
Firke
.
Here
Rafe
,
here's
thrée
two
pences
,
two
carry
into
France
,
the
third
shal
wash
our
soules
at
parting
(
for
sorrow
is
drie
)
for
my
sake
,
Firke
the
Basa
mon
cues
.
Hodge
.
Raph
,
I
am
heauy
at
parting
,
but
heres
a
shilling
for
thée
,
God
send
thée
to
cramme
thy
slops
with
French
crownes
,
and
thy
enemies
bellies
with
bullets
.
Raph.
I
thanke
you
maister
,
and
I
thanke
you
all
:
Now
gentle
wife
,
my
louing
louely
Iane
,
Rich
men
at
parting
,
giue
their
wiues
rich
gifts
,
Jewels
and
rings
,
to
grace
their
lillie
hands
,
Thou
know'st
our
trade
makes
rings
for
womens
héeles
:
Here
take
this
paire
of
shooes
cut
out
by
Hodge
,
Sticht
by
my
fellow
Firke
,
seam'd
by
my selfe
,
Made
vp
and
pinckt
,
with
letters
for
thy
name
,
Weare
them
my
déere
Iane
,
for
thy
husbands
sake
,
And
euerie
morning
when
thou
pull'st
them
on
,
Remember
me
,
and
pray
for
my
returne
,
Make
much
of
them
,
for
I
have
made
them
so
,
That
I
can
know
them
from
a
thousand
mo
.
Sound
drumme
,
enter
Lord
Maior
,
Lincolne
,
Lacy
,
Askew
,
Dodger
,
and
souldiers
,
They
passe
ouer
the
stage
,
Rafe
falles
in
amongest
them
,
Firke
and
the
rest
cry
farewel
,
&c.
and
so
Exeunt
.
Enter
Rose
alone
making
a
Garland
.
Here
sit
thou
downe
vpon
this
flowry
banke
,
And
make
a
garland
for
thy
Lacies
head
,
These
pinkes
,
these
roses
,
and
these
violets
,
These
blushing
gilliflowers
,
these
marigoldes
,
The
faire
embrodery
of
his
coronet
,
Carry
not
halfe
such
beauty
in
their
chéekes
,
As
the
swéete
countnaunce
of
my
Lacy
doth
.
O
my
most
vnkinde
father
!
O
my
starres
!
Why
lowrde
you
so
at
my
natiuity
,
To
make
me
loue
,
yet
liue
robd
of
my
loue
?
Here
as
a
théefe
am
I
imprisoned
(
For
my
déere
Lacies
sake
)
within
those
walles
,
Which
by
my
fathers
cost
were
builded
vp
For
better
purposes
:
here
must
I
languish
For
him
that
doth
as
much
lament
(
I
know
)
enter
Sibil
.
Mine
absence
,
as
for
him
I
pine
in
woe
.
Sibil
Good
morrow
yong
Mistris
,
I
am
sure
you
make
that
garland
for
me
,
against
I
shall
be
Lady
of
the
Haruest
.
Rose
Sibil
,
what
news
at
London
?
Sibil
None
but
good
:
my
lord
Mayor
your
father
,
and
maister
Philpot
your
vncle
,
and
maister
Scot
your
coosin
,
and
mistris
Frigbottom
by
Doctors
Commons
,
doe
all
(
by
my
troth
)
send
you
most
hearty
commendations
.
Rose
Did
Lacy
send
kind
gréetings
to
his
loue
?
Sibil
O
yes
,
out
of
cry
,
by
my
troth
,
I
scant
knew
him
,
here
a
wore
scarffe
,
and
here
a
scarfe
,
here
a
bunch
of
fethers
,
and
here
pretious
stones
and
iewells
,
and
a
paire
of
garters
:
O
monstrous
like
one
of
our
yellow
silke
curtains
,
at
home
here
in
Old-ford
house
,
here
in
maister
Bellymounts
chamber
,
I
stoode
at
our
doore
in
Cornehill
,
lookt
at
him
,
he
at
me
indeed
,
spake
to
him
,
but
he
not
to
me
,
not
a
word
,
mary
guy
thought
I
with
a
wanion
,
he
passt
by
me
as
prowde
,
mary
foh
,
are
you
growne
humorous
thought
I
?
and
so
shut
the
doore
,
and
in
I
came
.
Rose
O
Sibill
,
how
dest
thou
my
Lacy
wrong
?
My
Rowland
is
as
gentle
as
a
lambe
,
No
doue
was
euer
halfe
so
milde
as
he
.
Sibil
Milde
?
yea
,
as
a
bushel
of
stampt
crabs
,
he
lookt
vpon
me
as
sowre
as
veriuice
:
goe
thy
wayes
thought
I
,
thou
maist
be
much
in
my
gaskins
,
but
nothing
in
my
neatherstockes
:
this
is
your
fault
mistris
,
to
loue
him
that
loues
not
you
,
he
thinkes
scorne
to
do
as
he's
done
to
,
but
if
I
were
as
you
,
Ide
cry
,
go
by
Ieronimo
,
go
by
,
Ide
set
mine
olde
debts
against
my
new
driblets
,
and
the
hares
foot
against
the
goose
giblets
,
for
if
euer
I
sigh
when
sléepe
I
shoulde
take
,
pray
God
I
may
loose
my
mayden-head
when
I
wake
.
Rose
Will
my
loue
leaue
me
then
and
go
to
France
?
Sibill
I
knowe
not
that
,
but
I
am
sure
I
see
him
stalke
before
the
souldiers
,
by
my
troth
he
is
a
propper
man
,
but
he
is
proper
that
proper
doth
,
let
him
goe
snicke-vp
yong
mistris
.
Rose
Get
thée
to
London
,
and
learne
perfectly
,
Whether
my
Lacy
go
to
France
,
or
no
:
Do
this
,
and
I
wil
giue
thée
for
thy
paines
,
My
cambricke
apron
,
and
my
romish
gloues
,
My
purple
stockings
,
and
a
stomacher
,
Say
,
wilt
thou
do
this
Sibil
for
my
sake
?
Sibil
Wil
I
quoth
a
?
at
whose
suite
?
by
my
troth
yes
,
Ile
go
,
a
cambricke
apron
,
gloues
,
a
paire
of
purple
stockings
,
and
a
stomacher
,
Ile
sweat
in
purple
mistris
for
you
,
ile
take
any
thing
that
comes
a
Gods
name
,
O
rich
,
a
Cambricke
apron
;
faith
then
haue
at
vp
tailes
all
,
Ile
go
,
Iiggy
,
Ieggy
to
London
,
and
be
here
in
a
trice
yong
mistris
.
Exit
.
Rose
.
Do
so
good
Sibill
,
meane
time
wretched
I
Will
sit
and
sigh
for
his
lost
companie
.
Exit
.
Enter
Rowland
Lacy
like
a
Dutch
Shooe-maker
.
Lacy.
How
many
shapes
haue
gods
and
kings
deuisde
,
Thereby
to
compasse
their
desired
loues
?
It
is
no
shame
for
Rowland
Lacy
then
,
To
clothe
his
cunning
with
the
Gentle
Craft
,
That
thus
disguisde
,
I
may
vnknowne
possesse
,
The
onely
happie
presence
of
my
Rose
:
For
her
haue
I
forsooke
my
charge
in
France
,
Incurd
the
Kings
displeasure
,
and
stir'd
vp
Rough
hatred
in
mine
vncle
Lincolnes
brest
:
O
loue
,
how
powerfull
art
thou
,
that
canst
change
High
birth
to
barenesse
,
and
a
noble
mind
,
To
the
meane
semblance
of
a
shooemaker
?
But
thus
it
must
be
:
for
her
cruell
father
,
Hating
the
single
vnion
of
our
soules
,
Hath
secretly
conueyd
my
Rose
from
London
,
To
barre
me
of
her
presence
,
but
I
trust
Fortune
and
this
disguise
will
furder
me
Once
more
to
view
her
beautie
,
gaine
her
sight
.
Here
in
Towerstréete
,
with
Ayre
the
shooe-maker
,
Meane
I
a
while
to
worke
,
I
know
the
trade
,
I
learn't
it
when
I
was
in
Wittenberge
:
Then
cheere
thy
hoping
sprites
,
be
not
dismaide
,
Thou
canst
not
want
,
do
fortune
what
she
can
,
The
Gentle
Craft
is
liuing
for
a
man
.
exit
.
Enter
Eyre
making
himselfe
readie
.
Eyre
.
Where
be
these
boyes
,
these
girles
,
these
drabbes
,
these
scoundrels
,
they
wallow
in
the
fat
brewisse
of
my
boūtie
,
and
I
locke
vp
the
crums
of
my
table
,
yet
wil
not
rise
to
see
my
walkes
cleansed
:
come
out
you
powder-beefe-queanes
,
what
Nan
,
what
Madge-mumble-crust
,
come
out
you
fatte
Midriffe-swag
,
belly-whores
,
and
swéepe
me
these
kennels
,
that
the
noysome
stench
offende
not
the
nose
of
my
neighbours
:
what
Firke
I
say
,
what
Hodge
?
open
my
shop
windowes
,
what
Firke
I
say
.
Enter
Firke
.
Firke
.
O
master
,
ist
you
that
speake
bandog
and
bedlam
this
morning
,
I
was
in
a
dreame
,
and
muzed
what
madde
man
was
got
into
the
streete
so
earlie
,
haue
you
drunke
this
morning
that
your
throate
is
so
cleere
?
Eyre
.
Ah
well
saide
Firke
,
well
said
Firke
,
to
worke
my
fine
knaue
,
to
worke
,
wash
thy
face
,
and
thou
t
be
more
blest
.
Firke
.
Let
them
wash
my
face
that
will
eate
it
,
good
maister
send
for
a
sowce
wife
,
if
youle
haue
my
face
cleaner
.
enter
Hodge
.
Eyre
.
Away
slouen
,
auaunt
scoundrell
,
good
morrow
Hodge
,
good
morrow
my
fine
foreman
.
Hodge
.
O
maister
,
good
morrow
,
yare
an
earlie
stirrer
,
heeres
a
faire
morning
,
good
morrow
Firke
,
I
could
haue
slept
this
howre
,
héeres
a
braue
day
towards
.
Eyre
.
O
haste
to
worke
my
fine
foreman
,
haste
to
worke
.
Firke
.
Maister
I
am
drie
as
dust
,
to
heare
my
fellow
Roger
talke
of
faire
weather
,
let
vs
pray
for
good
leather
,
and
let
clownes
and
plowboyes
,
and
those
that
worke
in
the
fieldes
,
pray
for
braue
dayes
,
wee
worke
in
a
drie
shop
,
what
care
I
if
it
raine
?
enter
Eyres
wife
.
Eyre
.
How
now
dame
Margery
,
can
you
sée
to
rise
?
trip
and
go
,
call
vp
the
drabs
your
maides
.
Wife
.
See
to
rise
?
I
hope
tis
time
inough
,
tis
earlie
inough
for
any
woman
to
be
séene
abroad
,
I
maruaile
how
manie
wiues
in
Towerstréet
are
vp
so
soon
?
Gods
me
,
tis
not
noone
,
heres
a
yawling
.
Eyre
.
Peace
Margerie
,
peace
,
wheres
Cisty
Bumtrinket
your
maide
?
she
has
a
priuie
fault
,
she
fartes
in
her
sleepe
,
call
the
queane
vp
,
if
my
men
want
shooethréed
,
ile
swinge
her
in
a
stirrop
.
Firke
.
Yet
thats
but
a
drie
beating
,
heres
still
a
signe
of
drought
.
enter
Lacy
singing
.
Lacy.
Der
was
een
bore
van
Gelderland
,
Frolick
ū
byen
,
He
was
als
dronck
he
cold
nyet
stand
,
vpsolce
se
byen
,
Tap
eens
de
canneken
drincke
scheue
mannekin
.
Firke
.
Maister
,
for
my
life
yonders
a
brother
of
the
Gentle
Craft
,
if
he
beare
not
saint
Hughes
bones
,
Ile
forfeit
my
bones
,
hées
some
vplandish
workman
,
hire
him
good
master
,
that
I
may
learne
some
gible, gabble
,
twill
make
vs
worke
the
faster
.
Eyre
.
Peace
Firke
,
a
hard
world
,
let
him
passe
,
let
him
vanish
,
we
haue
iourneymen
enow
,
peace
my
fine
Firke
.
Wife
.
Nay
,
nay
,
Y are
best
follow
your
mans
councell
,
you
shal
sée
what
wil
come
on
t
:
we
haue
not
men
enow
,
but
we
must
entertaine
euerie
butter-boxe
:
but
let
that
passe
.
Hodge
.
Dame
,
fore
God
if
my
maister
follow
your
counsell
,
héele
consume
little
béefe
,
he
shal
be
glad
of
men
and
hee
can
catch
them
.
Firke
.
I
that
he
shall
.
Hodge
.
Fore
God
a
proper
man
,
and
I
warrant
a
fine
workman
:
maister
farewell
,
dame
adew
,
if
such
a
man
as
he
cannot
find
worke
,
Hodge
is
not
for
you
.
offer
to
goe
.
Eyre
.
Stay
my
fine
Hodge
.
Firke
.
Faith
,
and
your
foreman
goe
,
dame
you
must
take
a
iourney
to
séeke
a
new
iorneyman
,
if
Roger
remoue
,
Firke
followes
,
if
S.
Hughs
bones
shall
not
be
set
a
worke
,
I
may
pricke
mine
awle
in
the
wals
,
and
goe
play
:
fare
ye
wel
master
,
God
buy
dame
.
Eyre
.
Carrie
my
fine
Hodge
,
my
briske
foreman
,
stay
Firke
,
peace
pudding
broath
,
by
the
lord
of
Ludgate
I
loue
my
men
as
my
life
,
peace
you
gallimafrie
,
Hodge
if
he
want
worke
Ile
hire
him
,
one
of
you
to
him
,
stay
,
he
comes
to
vs
.
Lacie
.
Eoeden
dach
meester
,
ende
v
vro
oak
.
Firke
.
Nay
is
if
I
should
speake
after
him
without
drinking
,
I
shuld
choke
,
and
you
frind
Oake
are
you
of
the
Gentle
Craft
?
Lacie
.
Yaw
yaw
,
Ik
bin
den
skomawker
.
Firke
.
Den
skomaker
quoth
a
,
and
heark
you
skomaker
,
haue
you
al
your
tooles
,
a
good
rubbing
pinne
,
a
good
stopper
,
a
good
dresser
,
your
foure
sorts
of
awles
and
your
two
balles
of
waxe
,
your
paring
knife
,
your
hand
and
thumb-leathers
,
and
good
S.
Hughs
bones
to
smooth
vp
your
worke
.
Lacie
.
Yaw
yaw
be
niet
vor
veard
,
Ik
hab
all
de
dingen
,
voour
mack
shoes
groot
and
cleane
.
Firke
.
Ha
ha
good
maister
hire
him
,
héele
make
me
laugh
so
that
I
shal
worke
more
in
mirth
,
then
I
can
in
earnest
.
Eyre
.
I
care
ye
friend
,
haue
ye
any
skill
in
the
mistery
of
Cordwainers
?
Lacie
.
Ik
wéet
niet
wat
yow
seg
ich
vestaw
you
niet
.
Firke
.
Why
thus
man
,
Ich
verste
v
niet
quoth
a.
Lacie
.
Yaw
,
yaw
,
yaw
,
ick
can
dat
wel
doen.
Firke
.
Yaw
,
yaw
,
he
speakes
yawing
like
a
Iacke
daw
,
that
gapes
to
be
fed
with
chéese
curdes
,
O
héele
giue
a
villanous
pul
at
a
Can
of
double
Béere
,
but
Hodge
and
I
haue
the
vantage
,
we
must
drinke
first
,
because
wee
are
the
eldest
iourneyman
.
Eyre
.
What
is
thy
name
?
Lacy.
Hans
,
Hans
,
Meulter
.
Eyre
.
Giue
me
thy
hand
,
th'
art
welcome
,
Hodge
entertaine
him
,
Fyrk
bid
him
welcome
,
come
Hans
,
runne
wife
,
bid
your
maids
,
your
Crullibubs
,
make
readie
my
fine
mens
breakefasts
:
to
him
Hodge
.
Hodge
.
Hans
,
th'art
welcome
,
vse
thy selfe
friendly
,
for
we
are
good
fellowes
,
if
not
thou
shalt
be
fought
with
,
wert
thou
bigger
then
a
Giant
.
Fyrk.
Yea
and
drunke
with
,
wert
thou
Gargantua
,
my
maister
keepes
no
cowards
,
I
tel
thee
:
hee
,
boy
,
bring
him
an
heele-blocke
,
heers
a
new
iourneyman
.
Enter
boy
.
Lacy.
Oich
wersto
,
you
Ich
moet
een
halue
dossen
Cans
betaelen
:
here
boy
nempt
dis
skilling
,
tap
eens
fréelicke
.
Exit
boy
.
Eyre
.
Quicke
snipper snapper
,
away
Fyrk
,
scowre
thy
throate
,
thou
shalt
wash
it
with
Casulian
licour
,
come
my
last
of
the
fiues
,
giue
me
a
Can
,
haue
to
Enter
boy
.
thée
Hans
,
here
Hodge
,
here
Fyrk
,
drinke
you
mad
Gréeks
,
and
worke
like
true
Troians
,
and
pray
for
Simon
Eyre
the
Shoomaker
:
here
Hans
,
and
th'art
welcome
.
Fyrk.
Lo
dame
you
would
haue
lost
a
good
fellow
that
wil
teach
vs
to
laugh
,
this
béere
came
hopping
in
wel
.
Wife
.
Simon
it
is
almost
seuen
.
Eyre
.
Is't
so
dame
clapper
dudgeon
,
is't
seuen
a clocke
,
and
my
mens
breakefast
not
readie
?
trip
and
goe
yow
sowst
cunger
,
away
,
come
you
madde
Hiperboreans
,
follow
me
Hodge
,
follow
me
Hans
,
come
after
my
fine
Fyrk
,
to
worke
,
to
worke
a
while
and
then
to
breakfast
.
Exit
.
Fyrk.
Soft
,
yaw
,
yaw
,
good
Hans
,
though
my
master
haue
no
more
wit
,
but
to
call
you
afore
mee
,
I
am
not
so
foolish
to
go
behind
you
,
I
being
the
elder
iourneyman
.
exeunt
.
Hollowing
within
.
Enter
Warner
,
and
Hammon
,
like
hunters
.
Hammon
.
Cosen
,
beate
euery
brake
,
the
game's
not
far
,
This
may
with
winged
féete
he
fled
from
death
,
Whilst
the
pursuing
hounds
senting
his
steps
:
Find
out
his
high
way
to
destruction
,
Besides
,
the
millers
boy
told
me
euen
now
,
He
saw
him
take
saile
,
and
he
hallowed
him
,
Affirming
him
so
embost
,
That
long
he
could
not
hold
.
Warner
.
If
it
be
so
,
Tis
best
we
trace
these
meddowes
by
old
Ford
.
A
noise
of
hunters
within
,
enter
a
boy
.
Hammon
.
How
now
boy
,
wheres
the
déere
?
speak
,
sawst
thou
him
?
Boy
.
O
,
yea
I
saw
him
scape
through
a
hedge
,
and
then
ouer
a
ditch
,
then
at
my
Lord
Maiors
pale
,
ouer
he
skipt
me
and
in
he
went
me
,
and
holla
the
hunters
cride
,
and
there
boy
there
boy
,
but
there
he
is
a
mine
honestie
.
Ham.
Boy
God
amercy
,
cosen
lets
away
,
I
hope
we
shal
find
better
sport
to day
.
exeunt
.
Hunting
within
,
enter
Rose
,
and
Sibill.
Rose
.
Why
Sibill
wilt
thou
proue
a
forrester
?
Sibill.
Upon
some
no
,
forrester
,
go
by
:
no
faith
mistris
,
the
deere
came
running
into
the
barne
through
the
orchard
,
and
ouer
the
pale
,
I
wot
wel
,
I
lookt
as
pale
as
a
new
chéese
to
sée
him
,
but
whip
saies
goodman
pinne-close
,
vp
with
his
fiaile
,
and
our
Nicke
with
a
prong
,
and
downe
he
fel
,
and
they
vpon
him
,
and
I
vpon
them
,
by
my
troth
we
had
such
sport
,
and
in
the
end
we
ended
him
,
his
throate
we
cut
,
flead
him
,
vnhornd
him
,
and
my
lord
Maior
shal
eat
of
him
anon
when
he
comes
.
Hornes
sound
within
.
Rose
.
Heark
heark
,
the
hunters
come
,
y'are
best
take
héed
Theyle
haue
a
saying
to
you
for
this
deede
.
Enter
Hammon
,
Warner
,
huntsmen
,
and
boy
.
Ham.
God
saue
you
faire
ladies
.
Sibil
.
Ladies
,
O
grosse
!
War.
Came
not
a
bucke
this
way
?
Rose
.
No
,
but
two
Does
.
Ham.
And
which
way
went
they
?
faith
wéel
hunt
at
those
Sibill.
At
those
?
vpon
some
no
:
when
,
can
you
tell
?
War.
Upon
some
,
I
.
Sibill.
Good
Lord
!
War.
Wounds
then
farewell
.
Ham.
Boy
,
which
way
went
he
?
Boy
.
This
way
sir
he
ranne
.
Ham.
This
way
he
ranne
indéede
,
faire
mistris
Rose
,
Our
game
was
lately
in
your
orchard
séene
.
War.
Can
you
aduise
which
way
he
tooke
his
flight
?
Sibil
.
Followe
your
nose
,
his
hornes
will
guide
you
right
.
VVar.
Thart
a
mad
wench
.
Sibill.
O
rich
!
Rose
.
Trust
me
,
not
I
,
It
is
not
like
the
wild
forrest
déere
,
Would
come
so
neare
to
places
of
resort
,
You
are
deceiu'd
,
he
fled
some
other
way
.
VVar.
Which
way
my
suger-candie
,
can
you
shew
?
Sibill.
Come
vp
good
honnisops
,
vpon
some
,
no
.
Rose
.
Why
doe
you
stay
,
and
not
pursue
your
game
?
Sibill.
Ile
hold
my
life
their
hunting
nags
be
lame
.
Ham.
A
déere
,
more
deere
is
found
within
this
place
.
Rose
.
But
not
the
déere
(
sir
)
which
you
had
in
chace
.
Ham.
I
chac'd
the
déere
,
but
this
déere
chaceth
me
.
Rose
.
The
strangest
hunting
that
euer
I
see
,
But
wheres
your
parke
?
She
offers
to
goe
away
.
Ham.
Tis
here
:
O
stay
.
Rose
.
Impale
me
,
and
then
I
will
not
stray
.
VVar
They
wrangle
wench
,
we
are
more
kind
then
they
Sibill.
What
kind
of
hart
is
that
(
déere
hart
)
you
séeke
?
War.
A
hart
,
deare
hart
.
Sibil
.
Who euer
saw
the
like
?
Rose
.
To
loose
your
heart
,
is't
possible
you
can
?
Ham.
My
heart
is
lost
.
Rose
.
Alacke
good
gentleman
.
Ham.
This
poore
lost
hart
would
I
with
you
might
find
.
Rose
.
You
by
such
lucke
might
proue
your
hart
a
hind
.
Ham.
Why
Lucke
had
hornes
,
so
haue
I
heard
some
say
.
Rose
.
Now
God
and't
be
his
wil
send
Luck
into
your
way
.
Enter
L.
Maior
,
and
seruants
.
L.
Mai.
What
M.
Hammon
,
welcome
to
old
Ford
.
Sibill.
Gods
pittikins
,
hands
off
sir
,
héers
my
Lord
.
L.
Maior
.
I
heare
you
had
ill
lucke
,
and
lost
your
game
.
Hammon
.
Tis
true
my
Lord
.
L.
Maior
.
I
am
sorie
for
the
same
.
What
gentleman
is
this
?
Hammon
.
My
brother
in
law
.
L.
Maior
.
Y are
welcome
both
,
sith
Fortune
offers
you
Into
my
hands
,
you
shal
not
part
from
hence
,
Until
you
haue
refresht
your
wearied
limmes
:
Go
Sibel
couer
the
boord
,
you
shal
be
guest
To
no
good
cheare
,
but
euen
a
hunters
feast
.
Hammon
.
I
thanke
your
Lordship
:
cosen
,
on
my
life
For
our
lost
vension
,
I
shal
find
a
wife
.
exeunt
.
L.
Maior
.
In
gentlemen
,
Ile
not
be
absent
long
.
This
Hammon
is
a
proper
gentleman
,
A
citizen
by
birth
,
fairely
allide
,
How
fit
an
husband
were
he
for
my
girle
?
Wel
,
I
wil
in
,
and
do
the
best
I
can
,
To
match
my
daughter
to
this
gentléman
.
exit
.
Enter
Lacie
,
Skipper
,
Hodge
,
and
Firke
.
Skip
.
Ick
sal
yow
wat
seggen
Hans
,
dis
skip
dat
comen
from
Candy
is
al
wol
,
by
gots
sacrament
,
van
sugar
,
ciuet
,
almonds
,
cambrick
,
end
alle
dingen
towsand
towsand
ding
,
nempt
it
Hans
,
nempt
it
voz
v
meester
,
daer
be
de
bils
van
laden
,
your
meester
Simon
Eyre
sal
hae
good
copen
,
wat
seggen
yow
Hans
?
Firk.
Wat
seggen
de
reggen
de
copen
,
slopen
,
laugh
Hodge
laugh
.
Lacie
.
Mine
lieuer
broder
Firk
,
bringt
meester
Eyre
lot
den
signe
vn
swannekin
,
daer
sal
yow
finde
dis
skipper
end
me
,
wat
seggen
yow
broder
Firk
?
doot
it
Hodge
,
come
skipper
.
exeunt
.
Firke
.
Bring
him
qd
.
you
,
héers
no
knauerie
,
to
bring
me
master
to
buy
a
ship
,
worth
the
lading
of
2
or
3
hūdred
thousand
pounds
,
alas
thats
nothing
,
a
trifle
,
a
bable
Hodge
.
Hod
The
truth
is
Firk
,
that
the
marchant
owner
of
the
ship
dares
not
shew
his
head
,
and
therefore
this
skipper
that
deales
for
him
,
for
the
loue
he
beares
to
Hans
,
offers
my
master
Eyre
a
bargaine
in
the
commodities
,
he
shal
haue
a
reasonable
day
of
payment
,
he
may
sel
the
wares
by
that
time
,
and
be
an
huge
gainer
himselfe
.
Firk.
Yea
,
but
can
my
fellow
Hans
lend
my
master
twentie
porpentines
as
an
earnest
pennie
.
Hodge
.
Portegues
thou
wouldst
say
,
here
they
be
Firke
,
heark
,
they
gingle
in
my
pocket
like
S.
Mary
Queries
bels
.
enter
Eyre
and
his
wife
.
Firke
.
Mum
,
here
comes
my
dame
and
my
maister
,
shéele
scold
on
my
life
,
for
loytering
this
Monday
,
but
al's
one
,
let
them
al
say
what
they
can
,
Monday's
our
holyday
.
Wife
.
You
sing
sir
sauce
,
but
I
beshrew
your
heart
,
I
feare
for
this
your
singing
we
shal
smart
.
Firke
.
Smart
for
me
dame
,
why
dame
,
why
?
Hodg.
Maister
I
hope
yowle
not
suffer
my
dame
to
take
downe
your
iourneymen
.
Firk.
If
she
take
me
downe
,
Ile
take
her
vp
,
yea
and
take
her
downe
too
,
a
button
,
hole
lower
.
Eyre
.
Peace
Firke
,
not
I
Hodge
,
by
the
life
of
Pharao
,
by
the
Lord
of
Ludgate
,
by
this
beard
,
euery
haire
whereof
I
valew
at
a
kings
ransome
,
shee
shal
not
meddle
with
you
,
peace
you
bumbast-cotten-candle
Queane
,
away
queene
of
Clubs
,
quarrel
not
with
me
and
my
men
,
with
me
and
my
fine
Firke
,
Ile
firke
you
if
you
do
.
Wife
.
Yea
,
yea
man
,
you
may
vse
me
as
you
please
:
but
let
that
passe
.
Eyre
.
Let
it
passe
,
let
it
vanish
away
:
peace
,
am
I
not
Simon
Eyre
?
are
not
these
my
braue
men
?
braue
shoomakers
,
all
gentlemen
of
the
gentle
craft
?
prince
am
I
none
,
yet
am
I
noblie
borne
,
as
béeing
the
sole
sonne
of
a
Shoomaker
,
away
rubbish
,
vanish
,
melt
,
melt
like
kitchin
stuffe
.
Wife
.
Yea
,
yea
,
tis
wel
,
I
must
be
cald
rubbish
,
kitchin
stuffe
,
for
a
sort
of
knaues
.
Firke
.
Nay
dame
,
you
shall
not
wéepe
and
waile
in
woe
for
me
:
master
Ile
stay
no
longer
,
here's
a
vennentorie
of
my
shop
tooles
:
adue
master
,
Hodge
farewel
.
Hodge
.
Nay
stay
Firke
,
thou
shalt
not
go
alone
.
Wife
.
I
pray
let
them
goe
,
there
be
mo
maides
then
mawkin
,
more
men
then
Hodge
,
and
more
fooles
then
Firke
.
Firke
.
Fooles
?
nailes
if
I
tarry
nowe
,
I
would
my
guts
might
be
turnd
to
shoo-thread
.
Hodge
.
And
if
I
stay
,
I
pray
God
I
may
be
turnd
to
a
Turke
,
and
set
in
Finsbury
for
boyes
to
shoot
at
:
come
Firk
.
Eyre
.
Stay
my
fine
knaues
,
you
armes
of
my
trade
,
you
pillars
of
my
professiō
.
What
,
shal
a
tittle
tattles
words
make
you
forsake
Simon
Eyre
?
auaunt
kitchinstuffe
,
rip
you
brown
bread
tannikin
,
out
of
my
sight
,
moue
me
not
,
haue
not
I
tane
you
from
selling
tripes
in
Eastcheape
,
and
set
you
in
my
shop
,
and
made
you
haile
fellowe
with
Simon
Eyre
the
shoomaker
?
and
now
do
you
deale
thus
with
my
Iourneymen
?
Looke
you
powder
béefe
queane
on
the
face
of
Hodge
,
heers
a
face
for
a
Lord
.
Firke
.
And
heers
a
face
for
any
Lady
in
Christendome
.
Eyre
.
Rip
you
chitterling
,
auaunt
boy
,
bid
the
tapster
of
the
Bores
head
fil
me
a
doozen
Cannes
of
béere
for
my
iourneymen
.
Firke
.
A
doozen
Cans
?
O
braue
,
Hodge
now
Ile
stay
.
Eyre
.
And
the
knaue
fils
any
more
then
two
,
he
payes
for
them
:
a
doozen
Cans
of
béere
for
my
iourneymen
,
heare
you
mad
Mesopotamians
,
wash
your
liuers
with
this
liquour
,
where
be
the
odde
ten
?
no
more
Madge
,
no
more
,
wel
saide
,
drinke
&
to
work
:
what
worke
dost
thou
Hodge
?
what
work
?
Hodge
.
I
am
a
making
a
paire
of
shooes
for
my
Lord
Maiors
daughter
,
mistresse
Rose
.
Firke
.
And
I
a
paire
of
shooes
for
Sybill
my
Lords
maid
,
I
deale
with
her
.
Eyre
.
Sybil
?
fie
,
defile
not
thy
fine
workemanly
fingers
with
the
féete
of
Kitchinstuffe
,
and
basting
ladies
,
Ladies
of
the
Court
,
fine
Ladies
,
my
lads
,
commit
their
feete
to
our
apparelling
,
put
grosse
worke
to
Hans
;
yarke
and
seame
,
yarke
and
seame
.
Fyrk.
For
yarking
&
seaming
let
me
alone
,
&
I
come
toot
.
Hodge
.
Wel
maister
,
al
this
is
from
the
bias
,
do
you
remember
the
ship
my
fellow
Hans
told
you
of
,
the
Skipper
and
he
are
both
drinking
at
the
swan
?
here
be
the
Portigues
to
giue
earnest
,
if
you
go
through
with
it
,
you
can
not
choose
but
be
a
Lord
at
least
.
Firke
.
Nay
dame
,
if
my
master
proue
not
a
Lord
,
and
you
a
Ladie
,
hang
me
.
Wife
.
Yea
like
inough
,
if
you
may
loiter
and
tipple
thus
.
Firke
.
Tipple
dame
?
no
,
we
haue
béene
bargaining
with
Skellum
Skanderbag
:
can
you
Dutch
spreaken
for
a
ship
of
silke
Cipresse
,
laden
with
sugar
Candie
.
Enter
the
boy
with
a
veluet
coate
,
and
an
Aldermans
gowne
.
Ayre
puts
it
on
.
Eire
.
Peace
Firk
,
silence
tittle
tattle
:
Hodge
,
Ile
go
through
with
it
,
héers
a
seale
ring
,
and
I
haue
sent
for
a
garded
gown
,
and
a
damask
Casock
,
see
where
it
comes
,
looke
here
Maggy
,
help
me
Firk
,
apparreline
Hodge
,
silke
and
satten
you
mad
Philistines
,
silke
and
satten
.
Firk.
Ha
,
ha
,
my
maister
wil
be
as
proud
as
a
dogge
in
a
dublet
,
al
in
beaten
damaske
and
veluet
.
Eyre
.
Softly
Firke
,
for
rearing
of
the
nap
,
and
wearing
thread-bare
my
garments
:
how
dost
thou
like
mee
Firke
?
how
do
I
looke
,
my
fine
Hodge
?
Hodge
.
Why
now
you
looke
like
your
selfmaster
,
I
warrant
you
,
ther's
few
in
the
city
,
but
wil
giue
you
the
wal
,
and
come
vpon
you
with
the
right
worshipful
.
Firke
.
Nailes
my
master
lookes
like
a
thred-bare
cloake
new
turn'd
,
and
drest
:
Lord
,
Lord
,
to
see
what
good
raiment
both
?
dame
,
dame
,
are
you
not
enamoured
?
Eyre
.
How
saist
thou
Maggy
,
am
I
not
brisk
?
am
I
not
fine
?
Wife
.
Fine
?
by
my
troth
sweet
hart
very
fine
:
by
my
troth
I
neuer
likte
thée
so
wel
in
my
life
swéete
heart
.
But
let
that
passe
,
I
warrant
there
be
many
women
in
the
citie
haue
not
such
handsome
husbands
,
but
only
for
their
apparell
,
but
let
that
passe
too
.
Enter
Hans
and
Skipper
.
Hans
.
Godden
day
mester
,
dis
be
de
skipper
dat
heb
de
skip
van
marchandice
de
commodity
ben
good
,
nempt
it
master
,
nempt
it
.
Aire
.
Godamercy
Hans
,
welcome
skipper
,
where
lies
this
ship
of
marchandice
?
Skip
.
De
skip
ben
in
rouere
:
dor
be
van
Sugar
,
Cyuet
,
Almonds
,
Cambricke
,
and
a
towsand
towsand
tings
,
gotz
sacrament
,
nempt
it
mester
,
yo
sal
heb
good
copen
.
Firk.
To
him
maister
,
O
swéete
maister
,
O
swéet
wares
,
prunes
,
almons
,
suger-candy
,
carrat
roots
,
turnups
,
O
braue
fatting
meate
,
let
not
a
man
buye
a
nutmeg
but
your selfe
.
Eyre
.
Peace
Firke
,
come
Skipper
,
Ile
go
abroade
with
you
,
Hans
haue
you
made
him
drinke
?
Skip
.
Yaw
,
yaw
,
it
heb
veale
ge
drunck
.
Eyre
.
Come
Hans
follow
me
:
Skipper
,
thou
shalt
haue
my
countenance
in
the
Cittie
.
Exeunt
.
Firke
.
Yaw
heb
veale
ge
drunck
,
quoth
a
:
they
may
well
be
called
butter-boxes
,
when
they
drinke
fat
veale
,
and
thick
beare
too
:
but
come
dame
,
I
hope
you'le
chide
vs
no
more
.
VVife
.
No
faith
Firke
,
no
perdy
Hodge
,
I
do
féele
honour
créepe
vpon
me
,
and
which
is
more
,
a
certaine
rising
in
my
flesh
,
but
let
that
passe
.
Firke
.
Rising
in
your
flesh
do
you
feele
say
you
?
I
you
may
be
with
childe
,
but
why
should
not
my
maister
féele
a
rising
in
his
flesh
,
hauing
a
gowne
and
a
gold
ring
on
,
but
you
are
such
a
shrew
,
youl'e
soone
pull
him
downe
.
VVi.
Ha
,
ha
,
prethée
peace
,
thou
mak'st
my
worshippe
laugh
,
but
let
that
passe
:
come
Ile
go
in
Hodge
,
prethée
goe
before
me
,
Firke
follow
me
.
Fi.
Firke
doth
follow
,
Hodge
passe
out
in
state
.
Exeunt
.
Enter
Lincolne
and
Dodger
.
Li.
How
now
good
Dodger
,
whats
the
newes
in
France
?
Dodger
.
My
Lord
,
vpon
the
eightéene
day
of
May
,
The
French
and
English
were
preparde
to
fight
,
Each
side
with
eager
furie
gaue
the
signe
Of
a
most
hot
encounter
,
fiue
long
howres
Both
armies
fought
together
:
at
the
length
,
The
lot
of
victorie
fel
on
our
sides
,
Twelue
thousand
of
the
Frenchmen
that
day
dide
,
Foure
thousand
English
,
and
no
man
of
name
,
But
Captaine
Hyam
,
and
yong
Ardington
,
Two
gallant
Gentlemen
,
I
knew
them
well
.
Lin
.
But
Dodger
,
prethée
tell
me
in
this
fight
,
How
did
my
cozen
Lacie
beare
himselfe
?
Dodger
.
My
Lord
,
your
cosen
Lacie
was
not
there
.
Linc.
Not
there
?
Dog
.
No
,
my
good
Lord
.
Lin
.
Sure
thou
mistakest
,
I
saw
him
shipt
,
and
a
thousand
eies
beside
Were
witnesses
of
the
farewels
which
he
gaue
,
When
I
with
wéeping
eies
bid
him
adew
:
Dodger
take
héede
.
Dodger
.
My
Lord
I
am
aduis'd
,
That
what
I
spake
is
true
:
to
proue
it
so
,
His
cosen
Askew
that
supplide
his
place
,
Sent
me
for
him
from
France
,
that
secretly
He
might
conuey
himselfe
hither
.
Lin
.
Ist
euen
so
.
Dares
he
so
carelessely
venture
his
life
,
Upon
the
indignation
of
a
King
?
Hath
he
despis'd
my
loue
,
and
spurn'd
those
fauours
,
Which
I
with
prodigall
hand
powr'd
on
his
head
?
He
shall
repent
his
rashnes
with
his
soule
,
Since
of
my
loue
he
makes
no
estimate
,
Ile
make
him
wish
he
had
not
knowne
my
hate
,
Thou
hast
no
other
newes
?
Dodger
.
None
else
,
my
Lord
.
Lin
.
None
worse
I
know
thou
hast
:
procure
the
king
To
crowne
his
giddie
browes
with
ample
honors
,
Send
him
chéefe
Colonell
,
and
all
my
hope
Thus
to
be
dasht
?
but
tis
in
vaine
to
grieue
,
One
euill
cannot
a
worse
releeue
:
Upon
my
life
I
haue
found
out
his
plot
,
That
old
dog
Loue
that
fawnd
vpon
him
so
,
Loue
to
that
puling
girle
,
his
faire
cheek't
Rose
,
The
Lord
Maiors
daughter
hath
distracted
him
,
And
in
the
fire
of
that
loues
lunacie
,
Hath
he
burnt
vp
himselfe
,
comsum'd
his
credite
,
Lost
the
kings
loue
,
yea
and
I
feare
,
his
life
,
Onely
to
get
a
wanton
to
his
wife
:
Dodger
,
it
is
so
.
Dodger
.
I
feare
so
,
my
good
Lord
.
Lincolne
.
It
is
so
,
nay
sure
it
cannot
be
,
I
am
at
my
wits
end
Dodger
.
Dodger
.
Yea
my
Lord
.
Lin
.
Thou
art
acquainted
with
my
Nephewes
haunts
,
Spend
this
gold
for
thy
paines
,
goe
seeke
him
out
,
Watch
at
my
Lord
Maiors
(
there
if
he
liue
)
Dodger
,
thou
shalt
be
sure
to
méete
with
him
:
Prethée
be
diligent
.
Lacie
thy
name
Liu'd
once
in
honour
,
now
dead
in
shame
:
Be
circumspect
.
exit
.
Dodger
.
I
warrant
you
my
Lord
.
exit
.
Enter
Lord
Maior
,
and
master
Scotte
.
L.
Ma.
Good
maister
Scot
,
I
haue
beene
bolde
with
you
,
To
be
a
witnesse
to
a
wedding
knot
,
Betwixt
yong
maister
Hammon
and
my
daughter
,
O
stand
aside
,
see
where
the
louers
come
.
Enter
Hammon
,
and
Rose
.
Rose
Can
it
be
possible
you
loue
me
so
?
No
,
no
,
within
those
eie-bals
I
espie
,
Apparant
likelihoods
of
flattery
,
Pray
now
let
go
my
hand
.
Hammon
.
Sweete
mistris
Rose
,
Misconstrue
not
my
words
,
nor
misconceiue
Of
my
affection
,
whose
deuoted
soule
Sweares
that
I
loue
thée
dearer
then
my
heart
.
Rose
.
As
deare
as
your
owne
heart
?
I
iudge
it
right
.
Men
loue
their
hearts
best
when
th'are
out
of
sight
.
Hamond
.
I
loue
you
,
by
this
hand
.
Rose
.
Yet
hands
off
now
:
If
flesh
be
fraile
,
how
weake
and
frail's
your
vowe
?
Hamond
.
Then
by
my
life
I
sweare
.
Rose
.
Then
do
not
brawle
,
One
quarrell
looseth
wife
and
life
and
all
,
Is
not
your
meaning
thus
?
Hamond
.
In
faith
you
iest
.
Rose
.
Loue
loues
to
sport
,
therfore
leaue
loue
y'are
best
.
L.
Mai.
What
?
square
they
maister
Scot
?
Scot.
Sir
,
neuer
doubt
,
Louers
are
quickly
in
,
and
quickly
out
.
Ham.
Swéet
Rose
,
be
not
so
strange
in
fansying
me
,
Nay
neuer
turne
aside
,
shunne
not
my
sight
,
I
am
not
growne
so
fond
,
to
fond
my
loue
On
any
that
shall
quit
it
with
disdaine
,
If
you
wil
loue
me
,
so
,
if
not
,
farewell
.
L.
Ma.
Why
how
now
louers
,
are
you
both
agréede
?
Ham.
Yes
faith
my
Lord
.
L.
Maior
.
Tis
well
,
giue
me
your
hand
,
giue
me
yours
daughter
.
How
now
,
both
pull
backe
,
what
meanes
this
,
girle
?
Rose
.
I
meane
to
liue
a
maide
.
Ham.
But
not
to
die
one
,
pawse
ere
that
be
said
.
aside
.
L.
Mai.
Wil
you
stil
crosse
me
?
still
be
obstinate
?
Hamond
.
Nay
chide
her
not
my
Lord
for
doing
well
,
If
she
can
liue
an
happie
virgins
life
,
Tis
farre
more
blessed
then
to
be
a
wife
.
Rose
.
Say
sir
I
cannot
,
I
haue
made
a
vow
,
Who euer
be
my
husband
,
tis
not
you
.
L.
Mai.
Your
tongue
is
quicke
,
but
M.
Hamond
know
,
I
bade
you
welcome
to
another
end
.
Ham.
What
,
would
you
haue
me
pule
,
&
pine
,
and
pray
,
With
louely
ladie
mistris
of
my
heart
,
Pardon
your
seruant
,
and
the
rimer
play
,
Rayling
on
Cupid
,
and
his
tyrants
dart
,
Or
that
I
vndertake
some
martiall
spoile
,
Wearing
your
gloue
at
turney
,
and
at
tilt
,
And
tel
how
many
gallants
I
vnhorst
,
Swéete
,
wil
this
pleasure
you
?
Rose
.
Yea
,
when
wilt
begin
?
What
louerimes
man
?
fie
on
that
deadly
sinne
.
L.
Maior
.
If
you
wil
haue
her
,
Ile
make
her
agrée
.
Ham.
Enforced
loue
is
worse
then
hate
to
me
,
There
is
a
wench
kéepes
shop
in
the
old
change
,
To
her
wil
I
,
it
is
not
wealth
I
séeke
,
I
haue
enough
,
and
wil
preferre
her
loue
Before
the
world
:
my
good
lord
Maior
adew
,
Old
loue
for
me
,
I
haue
no
lucke
with
new
.
Exit
.
L.
Ma.
Now
mammet
you
haue
wel
behau'd
your selfe
,
But
you
shal
curse
your
coynes
if
I
liue
,
Whose
within
there
?
sée
you
connay
your
mistris
Straight
to
th'old
Forde
,
Ile
kéepe
you
straight
enough
,
Fore
God
I
would
haue
sworne
the
puling
girle
,
Would
willingly
accepted
Hammons
loue
,
But
banish
him
my
thoughts
,
go
minion
in
,
exit
Rose
.
Now
tel
me
master
Scot
would
you
haue
thought
,
That
master
Simon
Eyre
the
shoomaker
,
Had
béene
of
wealth
to
buy
such
marchandize
?
Scot.
Twas
wel
my
Lord
,
your
honour
,
and
my selfe
,
Grew
partners
with
him
for
your
bils
of
lading
,
Shew
that
Eyres
gaines
in
one
commoditie
,
Rise
at
the
least
to
ful
thrée
thousand
pound
,
Besides
like
gaine
in
other
marchandize
.
L.
Maior
.
Wel
he
shal
spend
some
of
his
thousands
now
For
I
haue
sent
for
him
to
the
Guild
Hal
,
enter
Eyre
.
Sée
where
he
comes
:
good
morrow
master
Eyre
.
Eyre
.
Poore
Simon
Eyre
,
my
Lord
,
your
shoomaker
.
L.
Maior
.
Wel
wel
,
it
likes
your selfe
to
terme
you
so
,
Now
M.
Dodger
,
whats
the
news
with
you
?
Enter
Dodger
.
Dodger
.
Ide
gladly
speake
in
priuate
to
your
honour
.
L.
Maior
.
You
shal
,
you
shal
:
master
Eyre
,
and
M.
Scot
,
I
haue
some
businesse
with
this
gentleman
,
I
pray
let
me
intreate
you
to
walke
before
To
the
Guild
Hal
,
Ile
follow
presently
,
Master
Eyre
,
I
hope
ere
noone
to
call
you
Shiriffe
.
Eyre
I
would
not
care
(
my
Lord
)
if
you
might
cal
me
king
of
Spaine
,
come
master
Scot
.
L.
Maior
.
Now
maister
Dodger
,
whats
the
newes
you
bring
?
Dod.
The
Earle
of
Lincolne
by
me
gréets
your
lordship
And
earnestly
requests
you
(
if
you
can
)
Informe
him
where
his
Nephew
Lacie
kéepes
.
L.
Maior
.
Is
not
his
Nephew
Lacie
now
in
France
?
Dodger
.
No
I
assure
your
lordship
,
but
disguisde
Lurkes
here
in
London
.
L.
Maior
.
London
?
ist
euen
so
?
It
may
be
,
but
vpon
my
faith
and
soule
,
I
know
not
where
he
liues
,
or
whether
he
liues
,
So
tel
my
Lord
of
Lincolne
,
lurch
in
London
?
Well
master
Dodger
,
you
perhaps
may
start
him
,
Be
but
the
meanes
to
ris
him
into
France
,
Ile
giue
you
a
dozen
angels
for
your
paines
,
So
much
I
loue
his
honour
,
hate
his
Nephew
,
And
prethée
so
informe
thy
lord
from
me
.
Dodger
.
I
take
my
leaue
.
exit
.
Dodger
.
L.
Maior
.
Farewell
good
master
Dodger
.
Lacie
in
London
?
I
dare
pawne
my
life
,
My
daughter
knowes
thereof
,
and
for
that
cause
,
Denide
yong
M.
Hammon
in
his
loue
,
Wel
I
am
glad
I
sent
her
to
old
Forde
,
Gods
lord
tis
late
,
to
Guild Hall
I
must
hie
,
I
know
my
brethren
stay
my
companie
.
exit
.
Enter
Firke
,
Eyres
wife
,
Hans
,
and
Roger
.
Wife
.
Thou
goest
too
fast
for
me
Roger
.
Firke
.
I
forsooth
.
Wife
.
I
pray
thée
runne
(
doe
you
heare
)
runne
to
Guild Hall
,
and
learne
if
my
husband
master
Eyre
wil
take
that
worshipfull
vocation
of
M.
Shiriffe
vpon
him
,
hie
thée
good
Firke
.
Firke
.
Take
it
?
well
I
goe
,
and
he
should
not
take
it
,
Firk
sweares
to
forsweare
him
,
yes
forsooth
I
goe
to
Guild Hall
.
Wife
.
Nay
when
?
thou
art
too
compendious
,
and
tedious
.
Firke
.
O
rare
,
your
excellence
is
full
of
eloquence
,
how
like
a
new
cart
whéele
my
dame
speakes
,
and
she
lookes
like
an
old
musty
ale-bottle
going
to
scalding
.
Wife
.
Nay
when
?
thou
wilt
make
me
melancholy
.
Firke
.
God
forbid
your
worship
should
fall
into
that
humour
,
I
runne
.
exit
.
Wife
.
Let
me
see
now
Roger
and
Hans
.
H.
I
forsooth
dame
(
mistris
I
should
say
)
but
the
old
terme
so
stickes
to
the
roofe
of
my
mouth
,
I
can
hardly
lick
it
off
.
Wife
.
Euen
what
thou
wilt
good
Roger
,
dame
is
a
faire
name
for
any
honest
christian
,
but
let
that
passe
,
how
dost
thou
Hans
?
Hans
.
Mée
tanck
you
vro
.
Wife
.
Wel
Hans
and
Roger
you
sée
God
hath
blest
your
master
,
and
perdie
if
euer
he
comes
to
be
M.
Shiriffe
of
London
(
as
we
are
al
mortal
)
you
shal
sée
I
wil
haue
some
odde
thing
or
other
in
a
corner
for
you
:
I
wil
not
be
your
backe
friend
,
but
let
that
passe
,
Hans
pray
thée
tie
my
shooe
.
Hans
.
Yaw
it
sal
vro
.
Wife
Roger
,
thou
knowst
the
length
of
my
foote
,
as
it
is
none
of
the
biggest
,
so
I
thanke
God
it
is
handsome
enough
,
prethée
let
me
haue
a
paire
of
shooes
made
,
corke
good
Roger
,
woodden
héele
too
.
Hodge
.
You
shall
.
Wife
.
Art
thou
acquainted
with
neuer
a
fardingale-maker
,
nor
a
French-hoode
maker
,
I
must
enlarge
my
bumine
,
ha
ha
,
how
shall
I
looke
in
a
hoode
I
wonder
?
perdie
odly
I
thinke
.
Roger
.
As
a
catte
out
of
a
pillorie
,
verie
wel
I
warrant
you
mistresse
.
Wife
.
Indéede
all
flesh
is
grasse
,
and
Roger
,
canst
thou
tel
where
I
may
buye
a
good
haire
?
Roger
.
Yes
forsooth
,
at
the
poulterers
in
Gracious
stréet
.
VVi.
Thou
art
an
vngratious
wag
,
perdy
,
I
meane
a
false
haire
for
my
periwig
.
Roger
.
Why
mistris
,
the
next
time
I
cut
my
beard
,
you
shall
haue
the
shauings
of
it
,
but
they
are
all
true
haires
.
VVi.
It
is
verie
hot
,
I
must
get
me
a
fan
or
else
a
maske
.
Rog.
So
you
had
néede
,
to
hide
your
wicked
face
.
VVi.
Fie
vpon
it
,
how
costly
this
world's
calling
is
,
perdy
,
but
that
it
is
one
of
the
wonderfull
works
of
God
,
I
would
not
deale
with
it
:
is
not
Firke
come
yet
?
Hans
bée
not
so
sad
,
let
it
passe
and
vanish
,
as
my
husbands
worshippe
saies
.
Hans
.
Ick
bin
vrolicke
,
lot
sée
yow
soo
.
Roger
.
Mistris
,
wil
you
drinke
a
pipe
of
Tobacco
?
VVife
.
O
fie
vppon
it
Roger
,
perdy
,
these
filthy
Tobacco
pipes
are
the
most
idle
slauering
bables
that
euer
I
felt
:
out
vppon
it
,
God
blesse
vs
,
men
looke
not
like
men
that
vse
thē
.
Enter
Rafe
being
lame
.
Roger
.
What
fellow
Rafe
?
Mistres
looke
here
,
Ianes
husband
,
why
how
,
lame
?
Hans
make
much
of
him
,
hées
a
brother
of
our
trade
,
a
good
workeman
,
and
a
tall
souldier
.
Hans
.
You
be
welcome
broder
.
Wife
.
Pardie
I
knew
him
not
,
how
dost
thou
good
Rafe
?
I
am
glad
to
sée
thée
wel
.
Rafe
.
I
would
God
you
saw
me
dame
as
wel
,
As
when
I
went
from
London
into
France
.
Wife
.
Trust
mee
I
am
sorie
Rafe
to
sée
thée
impotent
,
Lord
how
the
warres
haue
made
him
Sunburnt
:
the
left
leg
is
net
wel
it
was
a
faire
gift
of
God
the
infirmitie
tooke
not
hold
a
litle
higher
,
considering
thou
camest
from
France
:
but
let
that
passe
.
Rafe
.
I
am
glad
to
sée
you
wel
,
and
I
reioyce
To
heare
that
God
hath
blest
my
master
so
Since
my
departure
.
Wife
.
Yea
truly
Rafe
,
I
thanke
my
maker
:
but
let
that
passe
.
Rog.
And
sirra
Rafe
,
what
newes
,
what
newes
in
France
?
Rafe
.
Tel
mee
good
Roger
first
,
what
newes
in
England
?
Haw
does
my
Iane
?
when
didst
thou
sée
my
wife
?
Where
liues
my
poore
heart
?
shéel
be
poore
indéed
Now
I
want
limbs
to
get
whereon
to
féed
.
Roger
.
Limbs
?
hast
thou
not
hands
man
?
thou
shalt
neuer
sée
a
shoomaker
want
bread
,
though
he
haue
but
thrée
fingers
on
a
hand
.
Rafe
.
Yet
all
this
while
I
heare
not
of
my
Iane
.
Wife
.
O
Rafe
your
wife
,
perdie
we
knowe
not
whats
become
of
her
:
she
was
here
a
while
,
and
because
she
was
married
grewe
more
stately
then
became
her
,
I
checkt
her
,
and
so
forth
,
away
she
flung
,
neuer
returned
,
nor
saide
bih
nor
bah
:
and
Rafe
you
knowe
ka
me
,
ka
thée
.
And
so
as
I
tell
ye
.
Roger
is
not
Firke
come
yet
?
Roger
.
No
forsooth
.
Wife
.
And
so
indeed
we
heard
not
of
her
,
but
I
heare
shée
liues
in
London
:
but
let
that
passe
.
If
she
had
wanted
,
shee
might
haue
opened
her
case
to
me
or
my
husband
,
or
to
any
of
my
men
,
I
am
sure
theres
not
any
of
them
perdie
,
but
would
haue
done
her
good
to
his
power
.
Hans
looke
if
Firke
be
come
.
Exit
Hans
.
Hans
.
Yaw
it
sal
vro
.
Wife
.
And
so
as
I
saide
:
but
Rafe
,
why
dost
thou
wéepe
?
thou
knowest
that
naked
wee
came
out
of
our
mothers
wombe
,
and
naked
we
must
returne
,
and
therefore
thanke
God
for
al
things
.
Roger
.
No
faith
Iane
is
a
straunger
héere
,
but
Rafe
pull
vp
a
good
heart
,
I
knowe
thou
hast
one
,
thy
wife
man
,
is
in
London
,
one
tolde
mée
hée
sawe
her
a
while
agoe
verie
braue
and
neate
,
wéele
ferret
her
out
,
and
London
holde
her
.
Wife
.
Alas
,
poore
soule
,
hées
ouercome
with
sorrowe
,
he
does
but
as
I
doe
,
weepe
for
the
losse
of
any
good
thing
:
but
Rafe
,
get
thee
in
,
call
for
some
meate
and
drinke
,
thou
shalt
find
me
worshipful
towards
thée
.
Rafe
.
I
thanke
you
dame
,
since
I
want
lims
and
lands
,
Ile
to
God
,
my
good
friends
,
and
to
these
my
hands
.
exit
.
Enter
Hans
,
and
Firke
running
.
Fyrke
.
Runne
good
Hans
,
O
Hodge
,
O
mistres
,
Hodge
.
heaue
vp
thine
eares
,
mistresse
smugge
vp
your
lookes
,
on
with
your
best
apparell
,
my
maister
is
chosen
,
my
master
is
called
nay
condemn'd
by
the
crie
of
the
countrie
to
be
shiriffe
of
the
Citie
,
for
this
famous
yeare
nowe
to
come
:
and
time
now
being
,
a
great
many
men
in
blacke
gownes
were
askt
for
their
voyces
,
and
their
hands
,
and
my
master
had
al
their
fists
about
his
eares
presently
,
and
they
cried
I
,
I
,
I
,
I
,
and
so
I
came
away
,
wherefore
without
all
other
grieue
,
I
doe
salute
you
mistresse
shrieue
.
Hans
.
Yaw
,
my
mester
is
de
groot
man
,
de
shrieue
.
Roger
.
Did
not
I
tell
you
mistris
?
nowe
I
may
boldly
say
,
good
morrow
to
your
worship
.
Wife
.
Good
morrow
good
Roger
,
I
thanke
you
my
good
people
all
.
Firke
,
hold
vp
thy
hand
,
héer's
a
thrée-peny
péece
for
thy
tidings
.
Fyrk.
Tis
but
thrée
halfe
pence
,
I
thinke
:
yes
,
tis
thrée
pence
,
I
smel
the
Rose
.
Roger
.
But
mistresse
,
be
rulde
by
me
,
and
doe
not
speake
so
pulingly
.
Firke
.
Tis
her
worship
speakes
so
,
and
not
she
,
no
faith
mistresse
,
speake
mee
in
the
olde
key
,
too
it
Firke
,
there
good
Firke
,
plie
your
businesse
Hodge
,
Hodge
,
with
a
full
mouth
:
Ile
fill
your
bellies
with
good
cheare
til
they
crie
twang
.
Enter
Simon
Eire
wearing
a
gold
chaine
.
Hans
.
See
myn
lieuer
broder
,
héer
compt
my
meester
.
Wife
.
Welcome
home
maister
shrieue
,
I
pray
God
continue
you
in
health
and
wealth
.
Eyre
.
See
here
my
Maggy
,
a
chaine
,
a
gold
chaine
for
Simon
Eyre
,
I
shal
make
thee
a
Lady
,
heer's
a
French
hood
for
thee
,
on
with
it
,
on
with
it
,
dresse
thy
browes
with
this
flap
of
a
shoulder
of
mutton
,
to
make
thée
looke
louely
:
where
be
my
fine
men
?
Roger
,
Ile
make
ouer
my
shop
and
tooles
to
thee
:
Firke
,
thou
shalt
be
the
foreman
:
Hans
,
thou
shalt
haue
an
hundred
for
twentie
,
bee
as
mad
knaues
as
your
maister
Sim
Eyre
hath
bin
,
&
you
shall
liue
to
be
Sheriues
of
London
:
how
dost
thou
like
me
Margerie
?
Prince
am
I
none
,
yet
am
I
princely
borne
,
Firke
,
Hodge
,
and
Hans
.
Al
3
.
I
forsooth
,
what
saies
your
worship
mistris
Sherife
?
Eyre
.
Worship
and
honour
you
Babilonion
knaues
,
for
the
Gentle
Craft
:
but
I
forgot
my selfe
,
I
am
bidden
by
my
Lord
Maior
to
dinner
to
old
Foord
,
hees
gone
before
,
I
must
after
:
come
Hodge
,
on
with
your
trinkets
:
nowe
my
true
Troians
,
my
fine
Firke
,
my
dapper
Hodge
,
my
honest
Hans
,
some
deuice
,
some
odde
crochets
,
some
morris
,
or
such
like
,
for
the
honour
of
the
gentle
shooemakers
,
meete
me
at
old
Foord
,
you
know
my
minde
:
come
Madge
,
away
shutte
vp
the
shop
knaues
,
and
make
holiday
.
exeunt
.
Firke
.
O
rare
,
O
braue
,
come
Hodge
,
follow
me
Hans
,
Wéele
be
with
them
for
a
morris
daunce
.
exeunt
.
Enter
Lord
Maior
,
Eyre
,
his
wife
,
Sibill
in
a
French
hood
,
and
other
seruants
.
L.
Maior
.
Trust
mee
you
are
as
welcome
to
old
Foord
,
as
I
my selfe
.
Wife
.
Truely
I
thanke
your
Lordship
.
L.
Ma.
Would
our
bad
chéere
were
worth
the
thanks
you
giue
.
Eyre
.
Good
chéere
my
Lord
Maior
,
fine
chéere
,
a
fine
house
,
fine
walles
,
all
fine
and
neat
.
L.
Maior
.
Now
by
my
troth
Ile
tel
thée
maister
Eyre
,
It
does
me
good
and
al
my
brethren
,
That
such
a
madcap
fellow
as
thy selfe
Is
entred
into
our
societie
.
Wife
.
I
but
my
Lord
,
hee
must
learne
nowe
to
putte
on
grauitie
.
Eyre
.
Peace
Maggy
,
a
fig
for
grauitie
,
when
I
go
to
Guildhal
in
my
scarlet
gowne
,
Ile
look
as
demurely
as
a
saint
,
and
speake
as
grauely
as
a
Justice
of
peace
,
but
now
I
am
here
at
old
Foord
,
at
my
good
Lord
Maiors
house
,
let
it
go
by
,
vanish
Maggy
,
Ile
be
merrie
,
away
with
flip
flap
,
these
fooleries
,
these
gulleries
:
what
hunnie
?
prince
am
I
none
,
yet
am
I
princly
borne
:
what
sayes
my
Lord
Maior
?
L.
Maior
.
Ha
,
ha
,
ha
,
I
had
rather
then
a
thousand
pound
,
I
had
an
heart
but
halfe
so
light
as
yours
.
Eyre
.
Why
what
should
I
do
my
Lord
?
a
pound
of
care
paies
not
a
dram
of
debt
:
hum
,
lets
be
merry
whiles
we
are
yong
,
olde
age
,
sacke
and
sugar
will
steale
vpon
vs
ere
we
be
aware
.
L.
Ma.
Its
wel
done
mistris
Eyre
,
pray
giue
good
counsell
to
my
daughter
.
Wife
.
I
hope
mistris
Rose
wil
haue
the
grace
to
take
nothing
thats
bad
.
L.
Ma.
Pray
God
she
do
,
for
ifaith
mistris
Eyre
,
I
would
bestow
vpon
that
peeuish
girle
A
thousand
Marks
more
then
I
meane
to
giue
her
,
Upon
condition
shéed
be
rulde
by
me
,
The
Ape
still
crosseth
me
:
there
came
of
late
,
A
proper
Gentleman
of
faire
reuenewes
,
Whom
gladly
I
would
call
sonne
in
law
:
But
my
fine
cockney
would
haue
none
of
him
.
You'le
proue
a
cockscombe
for
it
ere
you
die
,
A
courtier
,
or
no
man
must
please
your
eie
.
Eyre
.
Be
rulde
swéete
Rose
,
th'art
ripe
for
a
man
:
marrie
not
with
a
boy
,
that
has
no
more
haire
on
his
face
then
thou
hast
on
thy
chéekes
:
a
courtier
,
wash
,
go
by
,
stand
not
vppon
pisherie pasherie
:
those
silken
fellowes
are
but
painted
Images
,
outsides
,
outsides
Rose
,
their
inner
linings
are
torne
:
no
my
fine
mouse
,
marry
me
with
a
Gentleman
Grocer
like
my
Lord
Maior
your
Father
,
a
Grocer
is
a
swéete
trade
,
Plums
,
Plums
:
had
I
a
sonne
or
Daughter
should
marrie
out
of
the
generation
and
bloud
of
the
shoe-makers
,
he
should
packe
:
what
,
the
Gentle
trade
is
a
liuing
for
a
man
through
Europe
,
through
the
world
.
Anoyse
within
of
a
Taber
and
a
Pipe
.
Maior
.
What
noyse
is
this
?
Eyre
.
O
my
Lord
Maior
,
a
true
of
good
fellowes
that
for
loue
to
your
honour
,
are
come
hither
with
a
morrisdance
,
come
in
my
Mesopotamians
chéerely
.
Enter
Hodge
,
Hans
,
Raph
,
Firke
,
and
other
shooe-makers
in
a
morris
:
after
a
little
dauncing
the
Lord
Maior
Speakes
.
Maior
.
Maister
Eyre
,
are
al
these
shoe-makers
?
Eyre
.
Al
Cordwainers
my
good
Lord
Maior
.
Rose
.
How
like
my
Lacie
lookes
yond
shooe-maker
.
Haunce
.
O
that
I
durst
but
speake
vnto
my
loue
!
Maior
.
Sibil
,
go
fetch
some
wine
to
make
these
drinke
,
You
are
al
welcome
.
All
.
We
thanke
your
Lordship
.
Rose
takes
a
cup
of
wine
and
goes
to
Haunce
.
Rose
.
For
his
sake
whose
faire
shape
thou
representst
,
Good
friend
I
drinke
to
thée
.
Hans
.
It
be
dancke
good
frister
.
Eyres
Wife
.
I
see
mistris
Rose
you
do
not
want
iudgement
,
you
haue
drunke
to
the
properest
man
I
kéepe
.
Firke
.
Here
bee
some
haue
done
their
parts
to
be
as
proper
as
he
.
Maior
.
Wel
,
vrgent
busines
cals
me
backe
to
London
:
Good
fellowes
,
first
go
in
and
taste
our
cheare
,
And
to
make
merrie
as
you
homeward
go
,
Spend
these
two
angels
in
beere
at
Stratford
Boe.
Eyre
.
To
these
two
(
my
madde
lads
)
Sim
Eyre
ads
another
,
then
chéerely
Firke
,
tickle
it
Haunce
,
and
al
for
the
honour
of
shoemakers
.
All
goe
dauncing
out
.
M.
Come
maister
Eyre
,
lets
haue
your
companie
.
exeunt
.
Rose
.
Sibil
What
shal
I
do
?
Sibill.
Why
whats
the
matter
?
Rose
.
That
Haunce
the
shoemaker
is
my
loue
Lacie
,
Disguisde
in
that
attire
to
find
me
out
,
How
should
I
find
the
meanes
to
speake
with
him
?
Sibill.
What
mistris
,
neuer
feare
,
I
dare
venter
my
maidenhead
to
nothing
,
and
thats
great
oddes
,
that
Haunce
the
Dutchman
when
we
come
to
London
,
shal
not
onely
sée
and
speake
with
you
,
but
in
spight
of
al
your
Fathers
pollicies
,
steale
you
away
and
marrie
you
,
will
not
this
please
you
?
Rose
.
Do
this
,
and
euer
be
assured
of
my
loue
.
Sibil
.
Away
then
and
follow
your
father
to
London
,
left
your
absence
cause
him
to
suspect
something
:
To morrow
if
my
counsel
be
obayde
,
Ile
binde
you
prentise
to
the
gentle
trade
.
Enter
Iane
in
a
Semsters
shop
working
,
and
Hamond
muffled
at
another
doore
,
he
stands
aloofe
.
Hamond
.
Yonders
the
shop
,
and
there
my
faire
loue
sits
,
Shées
faire
and
louely
,
but
she
is
not
mine
,
O
would
she
were
,
thrise
haue
I
courted
her
,
Thrise
hath
my
hand
béene
moistned
with
her
hand
,
Whilst
my
poore
famisht
eies
do
féed
on
that
Which
made
them
famish
:
I
am
infortunate
,
I
stil
loue
one
,
yet
no body
loues
me
,
I
muse
in
other
men
what
women
sée
,
That
I
so
want
?
fine
mistris
Rose
was
coy
,
And
this
too
curious
,
oh
no
,
she
is
chaste
,
And
for
the
thinkes
me
wanton
,
she
denies
To
cheare
my
cold
heart
with
her
sunnie
eies
:
How
prettily
she
workes
,
oh
prettie
hand
!
Oh
happie
worke
,
it
doth
me
good
to
stand
Unseene
to
sée
her
,
thus
I
oft
haue
stood
,
In
frostie
euenings
,
a
light
burning
by
her
,
Enduring
biting
cold
,
only
to
eie
her
,
One
onely
looke
hath
séem'd
as
rich
to
me
As
a
kings
crowne
,
such
is
loues
lunacie
:
Muffeled
Ile
passe
along
,
and
by
that
trie
Whether
she
know
me
.
Iane
.
Sir
,
what
ist
you
buy
?
What
ist
you
lacke
sir
?
callico
,
or
lawne
,
Fine
cambricke
shirts
,
or
bands
,
what
will
you
buy
?
Ham.
That
which
thou
wilt
not
sell
,
faith
yet
Ile
trie
:
How
do
you
sell
this
handkercher
?
Iane
.
Good
cheape
.
Ham.
And
how
these
ruffes
?
Iane
.
Cheape
too
.
Ham.
And
how
this
band
?
Iane
.
Cheape
too
.
Ham.
All
cheape
,
how
sell
you
then
this
hand
?
Iane
.
My
handes
are
not
to
be
solde
.
Ham.
To
be
giuen
then
:
nay
faith
I
come
to
buy
.
Iane
.
But
none
knowes
when
.
Ham.
Good
swéete
,
leaue
worke
a
little
while
,
lets
play
.
Iane
.
I
cannot
liue
by
keeping
holliday
.
Ham.
Ile
pay
you
for
the
time
which
shall
be
lost
.
Iane
.
With
me
you
shall
not
be
at
so
much
cost
.
Ham.
Look
how
you
wound
this
cloth
,
so
you
wound
me
.
Iane
.
It
may
be
so
.
Ham.
Tis
so
.
Iane
.
What
remedie
?
Ham.
Nay
faith
you
are
too
coy
.
Iane
.
Let
goe
my
hand
.
Ham.
I
will
do
any
task
of
your
command
,
I
would
let
goe
this
beautie
,
were
I
not
In
mind
to
disobey
you
by
a
power
That
controlles
kings
:
I
loue
you
.
Iane
.
So
,
now
part
.
Ham.
With
hands
I
may
,
but
neuer
with
my
heart
,
In
faith
I
loue
you
.
Iane
.
I
beleeue
you
doe
.
Ham.
Shall
a
true
loue
in
me
bréede
hate
in
you
?
Iane
.
I
hate
you
not
.
Ham.
Then
you
must
loue
.
Iane
.
I
doe
,
what
are
you
better
now
?
I
loue
not
you
,
Ham.
All
this
I
hope
is
but
a
womans
fray
,
That
means
,
come
to
me
,
when
she
cries
,
away
:
In
earnest
mistris
I
do
not
iest
,
A
true
chaste
loue
hath
entred
in
my
brest
,
In
loue
you
dearely
as
I
loue
my
life
,
I
loue
you
as
a
husband
loues
a
wife
.
That
,
and
no
other
loue
my
loue
requires
,
Thy
wealth
I
know
is
little
,
my
desires
Thirst
not
for
gold
,
swéete
beauteous
Iane
whats
mine
,
Shall
(
if
thou
make
my selfe
thine
)
all
be
thine
,
Say
,
iudge
,
what
is
thy
sentence
,
life
or
death
?
Mercie
or
crueltie
lies
in
thy
breath
.
Iane
.
Good
sir
,
I
do
beleeue
you
loue
me
well
:
For
tis
a
séely
conquest
,
séely
pride
,
For
one
like
you
(
I
meane
a
gentleman
)
To
boast
,
that
by
his
loue
tricks
he
hath
brought
,
Such
and
such
women
to
his
amorous
lure
:
I
thinke
you
do
not
so
,
yet
many
doe
,
And
make
it
euen
a
very
trade
to
wooe
,
I
could
be
coy
,
as
many
women
be
,
Féede
you
with
sunne-shine
smiles
,
and
wanton
lookes
,
But
I
detest
witchcraft
,
say
that
I
Doe
constantly
beleeue
you
,
constant
haue
.
Ham.
Why
dost
thou
not
beléeue
me
?
Iane
.
I
beleeue
you
,
But
yet
good
sir
,
because
I
will
not
gréeue
you
,
With
hopes
to
taste
fruite
,
which
will
neuer
fall
,
In
simple
truth
this
is
the
summe
of
all
My
husband
liues
,
at
least
I
hope
he
liues
,
Prest
was
he
to
these
bitter
warres
in
France
,
Bitter
they
are
to
me
by
wanting
him
,
I
haue
but
one
heart
,
and
that
hearts
his
due
,
How
can
I
then
bestow
the
same
on
you
?
Whilst
he
liues
,
his
I
liue
,
be
it
nere
so
poore
,
And
rather
be
his
wife
,
then
a
kings
whore
.
Ham.
Chaste
and
deare
woman
,
I
will
not
abuse
thée
,
Although
it
cost
my
life
,
if
thou
refuse
me
,
Thy
husband
prest
for
France
,
what
was
his
name
?
Iane
.
Rafe
Damport
.
Ham.
Damport
,
heres
a
letter
sent
From
France
to
me
,
from
a
deare
friend
of
mine
,
A
gentleman
of
place
,
here
he
doth
write
,
Their
names
that
haue
bin
slaine
in
euery
fight
.
Iane
.
I
hope
deaths
scroll
containes
not
my
loues
name
Ham.
Cannot
you
reade
?
Iane
.
I
can
.
Ham.
Beruse
the
same
,
To
my
remembrance
such
a
name
I
read
Amongst
the
rest
:
sée
here
.
Iane
.
Aye
me
,
hées
dead
:
Hées
dead
,
if
this
be
true
my
deare
hearts
slaine
.
Ham.
Haue
patience
,
deare
loue
.
Iane
.
Hence
,
hence
.
Ham.
Nay
swéete
Iane
,
Make
not
poore
sorrow
prowd
with
these
rich
teares
,
I
mourne
thy
husbands
death
because
thou
mournst
.
Iane
.
That
bil
is
forgde
;
tis
signde
by
forgerie
.
Ham.
Ile
bring
thée
letters
sent
besides
to
many
Carrying
the
like
report
:
Iane
tis
too
true
,
Come
,
wéepe
not
:
mourning
though
it
rise
from
loue
Helpes
not
the
mourned
,
yet
hurtes
them
that
mourne
.
Iane
.
For
Gods
sake
leaue
me
.
Ham.
Whither
dost
thou
turne
?
Forget
the
déede
,
loue
them
that
are
aliue
,
His
loue
is
faded
,
trie
how
mine
will
thriue
.
Iane
.
Tis
now
no
time
for
me
to
thinke
on
loue
,
Ham.
Tis
now
best
time
for
you
to
thinke
on
loue
,
because
your
loue
liues
not
.
Iane
.
Thogh
he
be
dead
,
my
loue
to
him
shal
not
be
buried
:
For
Gods
sake
leaue
me
to
my selfe
alone
.
Ham.
I
would
kil
my
soule
to
leaue
thée
drownd
in
mone
:
Answere
me
to
my
sute
,
and
I
am
gone
,
Say
to
me
,
yea
,
or
no
.
Iane
.
No
.
Ham.
Then
farewell
,
one
farewel
wil
not
serue
,
I
come
again
,
come
drie
these
wet
chéekes
,
tel
me
faith
sweete
Iane
,
yea
,
or
no
,
once
more
.
Iane
.
Once
more
I
say
no
,
once
more
be
gone
I
pray
,
else
wil
I
goe
.
Ham.
Nay
then
I
wil
grow
rude
by
this
white
hand
,
Until
you
change
that
colde
no
,
here
ile
stand
,
Til
by
your
hard
heart
Iane
.
Nay
,
for
Gods
loue
peace
,
My
sorrowes
by
your
presence
more
increase
,
Not
that
you
thus
are
present
,
but
al
griefe
Desires
to
be
alone
,
therefore
in
briefe
Thus
much
I
say
,
and
saying
bid
adew
,
If
euer
I
wed
man
it
shall
be
you
.
Ham.
Oh
blessed
voyce
,
deare
Iane
Ile
vrge
no
more
,
Thy
breath
hath
made
me
rich
.
Iane
.
Death
makes
me
poore
.
exeunt
.
Enter
Hodge
at
his
shop
boord
,
Rafe
,
Firk
,
Hans
,
and
a
boy
at
work
.
All
.
Hey
downe
,
a
downe
,
downe
derie
.
Hodge
.
Well
said
my
hearts
,
plie
your
worke
to day
,
we
loytred
yesterday
,
to
it
pell mell
,
that
we
may
liue
to
be
Lord
Maiors
,
or
Aldermen
at
least
.
Firke
.
Hey
downe
a
downe
derie
.
Hodge
.
Well
said
yfaith
,
how
saist
thou
Hauns
,
doth
not
Firke
tickle
it
?
Hauns
.
Yaw
mester
.
Firke
.
Not
so
neither
,
my
organe
pipe
squeakes
this
morning
for
want
of
licoring
:
hey
downe
a
downe
derie
.
Hans
.
Forward
Firk
,
tow
best
vn
iolly
yongster
hort
I
mester
it
bid
yo
cut
me
vn
pair
vāpres
vor
mester
ieffres
bootes
.
Hodge
.
Thou
shalt
Haims
.
Firke
.
Master
.
Hodge
How
now
,
boy
?
Firke
Pray
,
now
you
are
in
the
cutting
vaine
,
cut
mée
out
a
paire
of
counterfeits
,
or
else
my
worke
will
not
passe
currant
,
hey
downe
a
downe
.
Hodge
Tell
me
sirs
,
are
my
coosin
M.
Priscillaes
shooes
done
?
Firke
Your
coosin
?
no
maister
,
one
of
your
auntes
,
hang
her
,
let
them
alone
.
Rafe
I
am
in
hand
with
them
,
she
gaue
charge
that
none
but
I
should
doe
them
for
her
.
Firke
Thou
do
for
her
?
then
twill
be
a
lame
doing
,
and
that
she
loues
not
:
Rafe
,
thou
might
have
sent
her
to
me
,
in
faith
I
would
haue
yearkt
and
〈…〉
downe
a
downe
derry
,
this
géere
will
holde
.
Hodge
How
saist
thou
Firke
?
were
〈…〉
Ford
?
Firke
How
merry
?
why
our
buttockes
went
Iiggy
ioggy
like
a
quagmyre
:
wel
sir
Roger
Oatemeale
,
if
I
thought
all
meale
of
that
nature
,
I
would
eate
nothing
but
bag
puddings
.
Rafe
Of
all
good
fortunes
,
my
fellow
Hance
had
the
best
.
Firke
Tis
true
,
because
mistris
Rose
dranke
to
him
.
Hodge
Wel
,
wel
,
worke
apace
,
they
say
seuen
of
the
Aldermen
be
dead
,
or
very
sicke
.
Firke
I
care
not
,
Ile
be
none
.
Rafe
No
nor
I
,
but
then
my
M.
Eyre
will
come
quickly
to
be
L.
Mayor
.
Enter
Sibil
.
Firke
Whoop
,
yonder
comes
Sibil
.
Hodge
Sibil
,
welcome
yfaith
,
and
how
dost
thou
madde
wench
?
Firke
Sib
whoore
,
welcome
to
London
.
Sibil
Godamercy
sweete
Firke
:
good
Lord
Hodge
,
what
a
delitious
shop
you
haue
got
,
you
tickle
it
yfaith
.
Rafe
God
a
mercy
Sibil
for
our
good
chéere
at
old
Ford
.
Sibil
That
you
shal
haue
Rafe
.
Firke
Nay
by
the
masse
,
we
hadde
tickling
chéere
Sibil
,
and
how
the
plague
dost
thou
and
mistris
Rose
,
and
my
L.
Mayor
?
I
put
the
women
in
first
.
Sibil
Wel
Godamercy
:
but
Gods
me
,
I
forget
my self
,
wheres
Haunce
the
Fleming
?
Firke
Hearke
butter-boxe
,
uowe
you
must
yely
out
some
spreken
.
〈…〉
vod
gon
Frister
.
〈…〉
come
to
my
yong
mistris
,
to
pull
〈…〉
〈…〉
egle
fro
,
vare
ben
your
mistris
?
〈…〉
our
London
house
in
Cornewaile
〈…〉
serue
her
turne
but
Hans
?
〈…〉
come
Hans
,
I
stand
vpon
néedles
.
Hodg.
Why
then
Sibil
,
take
héede
of
pricking
.
Sibill.
For
that
let
me
alone
,
I
haue
a
tricke
in
my
budget
,
come
Hans
.
Hans
.
Yaw
,
yaw
,
ic
sall
méete
yo
gane
.
Exit
Hans
and
Sibill.
Hodge
.
Go
Hans
,
make
haste
againe
:
come
,
who
lacks
worke
?
Firke
.
I
maister
,
for
I
lacke
my
breakfast
,
tis
munching
time
,
and
past
Hodge
Ist
so
?
why
then
leaue
worke
Raph
,
to
breakfast
,
boy
looke
to
the
tooles
,
come
Raph
,
come
Firke
.
Exeunt
.
Enter
a
Serningman
.
Ser.
Let
me
sée
now
,
the
signe
of
the
last
in
Towerstréet
,
mas
yonders
the
house
:
what
haw
,
whoes
within
?
Enter
Raph.
Raph.
Who
calles
there
,
what
want
you
sir
?
Seru.
Marrie
I
would
haue
a
paire
of
shooes
made
for
a
Gentlewoman
against
to morrow
morning
,
what
can
you
do
them
?
Raph.
Yes
sir
,
you
shall
haue
them
,
but
what
lengths
her
foote
?
Seru.
Why
you
must
make
them
in
all
parts
like
this
shoe
,
but
at
any
hand
faile
not
to
do
them
,
for
the
Gentlewoman
is
to
be
married
very
early
in
the
morning
.
Raph
How
?
by
this
shoe
must
it
be
made
?
by
this
,
are
you
sure
sir
by
this
?
Seru.
How
,
by
this
am
I
sure
,
by
this
?
art
thou
in
thy
wits
?
I
tell
thée
I
must
haue
a
paire
of
shooes
,
dost
thou
marke
me
?
a
paire
of
shooes
,
two
shooes
,
made
by
this
verie
shoe
,
this
same
shoe
,
against
to morrow
morning
by
foure
a clock
,
dost
vnderstand
me
,
canst
thou
do't
?
Raph.
Yes
sir
,
yes
,
I
,
I
,
I
can
do't
,
by
this
shoe
you
say
:
I
should
knowe
this
shoe
,
yes
sir
,
yes
,
by
this
shoe
,
I
can
do
t
,
foure
a clocke
,
well
,
whither
shall
I
bring
them
?
Seru.
To
the
signe
of
the
golden
ball
in
Watlingstréete
,
enquire
for
one
maister
Hamon
a
gentleman
,
my
maister
.
Raph.
Yea
sir
,
by
this
shoe
you
say
.
Seru.
I
say
maister
Hammon
at
the
golden
ball
,
hée's
the
Bridegroome
,
and
those
shooes
are
for
his
bride
.
Raph.
They
shal
be
done
by
this
shoe
:
wel
,
well
,
Maister
Hammon
at
the
golden
shoe
,
I
would
say
the
golden
Ball
,
verie
well
,
verie
well
,
but
I
pray
you
sir
where
must
maister
Hammon
be
married
?
Seru.
At
Saint
Faiths
Church
vnder
Paules
:
but
whats
that
to
thée
?
prethee
dispatch
those
shooes
,
and
so
farewel
.
exit
.
Raph.
By
this
shoe
said
he
,
how
am
I
amasde
At
this
strange
accident
?
vpon
my
life
,
This
was
the
verie
shoe
I
gaue
my
wife
When
I
was
prest
for
France
,
since
when
alas
,
I
neuer
could
heare
of
her
:
it
is
the
same
,
And
Hammons
Bride
no
other
but
my
Iane
.
Enter
Firke
.
Firke
.
Snailes
Raph
thou
hast
lost
thy
part
of
thrée
pots
,
a
countrieman
of
mine
gaue
me
to
breakfast
.
Rafe
I
care
not
,
I
haue
found
a
better
thing
.
Firke
A
thing
?
away
,
is
it
a
mans
thing
,
or
a
womans
thing
?
Rafe
Firke
,
dost
thou
know
this
shooe
?
Firke
No
by
my
troth
,
neither
doth
that
know
me
?
I
haue
no
acquaintance
with
it
,
tis
a
méere
stranger
to
me
.
Rafe
Why
then
I
do
,
this
shooe
I
durst
be
sworne
Once
couered
the
instep
of
my
Iane
:
This
is
her
size
,
her
breadth
,
thus
trod
my
loue
,
These
true
loue
knots
I
prickt
,
I
hold
my
life
,
By
this
old
shooe
I
shall
finde
out
my
wife
.
Firke
Ha
ha
old
shoo
,
that
wert
new
,
how
a
murren
came
this
ague
fit
of
foolishnes
vpon
thee
?
Rafe
Thus
Firke
,
euen
now
here
came
a
seruingman
,
By
this
shooe
would
he
haue
a
new
paire
made
Against
to morrow
morning
for
his
mistris
,
Thats
to
be
married
to
a
Gentleman
,
And
why
may
not
this
be
my
swéete
Iane
?
Firke
And
why
maist
not
thou
be
my
swéete
Asse
?
ha
,
ha
.
Rafe
Wel
,
laugh
,
and
spare
not
:
but
the
trueth
is
this
.
Against
to morrow
morning
Ile
prouide
,
A
lustie
crue
of
honest
shoomakers
,
To
watch
the
going
of
the
bride
to
church
,
If
she
proue
Iane
,
Ile
take
her
in
dispite
,
From
Hammon
and
the
diuel
,
were
he
by
,
If
it
be
not
my
Iane
,
what
remedy
?
Hereof
am
I
sure
,
I
shall
liue
till
I
die
,
Although
I
neuer
with
a
woman
lie
.
exit
.
Fir.
Thou
he
with
a
woman
to
builde
nothing
but
Cripple-gates
!
Well
,
God
sends
fooles
fortune
,
and
it
may
be
he
may
light
vpon
his
matrimony
by
such
a
deuice
,
for
wedding
and
hanging
goes
by
destiny
.
exit
.
Enter
Hauns
,
and
Rose
arme
in
arme
.
Hans
.
How
happie
am
I
by
embracing
thée
,
Oh
I
did
feare
such
crosse
mishaps
did
raigne
,
That
I
should
neuer
see
my
Rose
againe
.
Rose
.
Swéete
Lacie
,
since
faire
Oportunitie
Offers
her selfe
to
furder
our
escape
,
Let
not
too
ouer-fond
estéeme
of
me
Hinder
that
happie
hower
,
inuent
the
meanes
,
And
Rose
will
follow
thée
through
all
the
world
.
Hans
.
Oh
how
I
surfeit
with
excesse
of
ioy
,
Made
happie
by
thy
rich
perfection
,
But
since
thou
paist
sweete
intrest
to
my
hopes
,
Redoubling
loue
on
loue
,
let
me
once
more
,
Like
to
a
bold
facde
debter
craue
of
thée
,
This
night
to
steale
abroade
,
and
at
Eyres
house
,
Who
now
by
death
of
certaine
Aldermen
,
Is
Maior
of
London
,
and
my
master
once
,
Méete
thou
thy
Lacie
where
in
spite
of
change
,
Your
fathers
anger
,
and
mine
vncles
hate
,
Our
happie
nuptialls
will
me
consummate
.
Enter
Sibill.
Sib
Oh
God
,
what
will
you
doe
mistris
?
shift
for
your selfe
,
your
father
is
at
hand
,
hées
comming
,
hées
comming
,
master
Lacie
hide
your selfe
in
my
mistris
,
for
Gods
sake
shift
for
your selues
.
Hans
Your
father
come
,
swéete
Rose
,
what
shall
I
doe
?
Where
shall
I
hide
me
?
how
shall
I
escape
?
Rose
.
A
man
and
want
wit
in
extremitie
,
Come
,
come
,
be
Hauns
still
,
play
the
shoomaker
,
Pull
on
my
shooe
.
Enter
Lord
Maior
.
Hans
Mas
,
and
thats
well
remembred
.
Sib
Here
comes
your
father
.
Hans
.
Forware
metresse
,
tis
vn
good
skow
,
it
sal
vel
dute
,
or
ye
sal
neit
betallen
.
Rose
.
Oh
God
it
pincheth
me
,
what
will
you
do
?
Hans
.
Your
fathers
presence
pincheth
,
not
the
shoo
.
L.
Mai.
Well
done
,
fit
my
daughter
well
,
and
shee
shall
please
thee
well
.
Hans
.
Yaw
,
yaw
,
ick
weit
dat
well
,
for
ware
tis
vn
good
shoo
,
tis
gi
mait
van
neits
leither
,
se
ener
mine
here
.
Enter
a
prentice
.
L.
Mai.
I
do
beléeue
it
,
whats
the
newes
with
you
?
Prent.
Please
you
,
the
Earle
of
Lincolne
at
the
gate
is
newly
lighted
,
and
would
speake
with
you
.
L.
Mai.
The
Earle
of
Lincolne
come
speake
with
me
?
Well
,
well
,
I
know
his
errand
:
daughter
Rose
,
Send
hence
your
shoomaker
,
dispatch
,
haue
done
:
Sib
,
make
things
handsome
:
sir
boy
follow
me
.
Exit
.
Hans
.
Mine
vncle
come
,
oh
what
may
this
portend
?
Swéete
Rose
,
this
of
our
loue
threatens
an
end
.
Rose
.
Be
not
dismaid
at
this
what ere
befall
,
Rose
is
thine
owne
,
to
witnes
I
speake
truth
,
Where
thou
appoints
the
place
Ile
méete
with
thée
,
I
will
not
fixe
a
day
to
follow
thée
,
But
presently
steale
hence
,
do
not
replie
.
Loue
which
gaue
strength
to
beare
my
fathers
hate
,
Shall
now
adde
wings
to
further
our
escape
.
exeunt
.
Enter
L.
Maior
,
and
Lincolne
.
L.
Mai.
Beléeue
me
,
on
my
credite
I
speake
truth
,
Since
first
your
nephew
Lacie
went
to
France
,
I
haue
not
seene
him
.
It
séemd
strange
to
me
,
When
Dodger
told
me
that
he
staide
behinde
,
Neglecting
the
hie
charge
the
King
imposed
.
Linc.
Trust
me
(
sir
Roger
Otly
)
I
did
thinke
Your
counsell
had
giuen
head
to
this
attempt
,
Drawne
to
it
by
the
loue
he
beares
your
child
.
Here
I
did
hope
to
find
him
in
your
house
,
But
now
I
sée
mine
error
,
and
confesse
My
iudgement
wrongd
you
by
conceuing
so
.
L.
Maior
Lodge
in
my
house
,
say
you
?
trust
me
my
Lord
,
I
loue
your
Nephew
Lacie
too
too
dearely
So
much
to
wrong
his
honor
,
and
he
hath
done
so
,
That
first
gaue
him
aduise
to
stay
from
France
.
To
witnesse
I
speake
truth
,
I
let
you
know
How
carefull
I
haue
beene
to
kéepe
my
daughter
Frée
from
all
conference
,
or
spéech
of
him
,
Not
that
I
skorne
your
Nephew
,
but
in
loue
I
beare
your
honour
,
least
your
noble
bloud
,
Should
by
my
meane
worth
be
dishonoured
.
Lin
.
How
far
the
churles
tongue
wanders
from
his
hart
,
Well
,
well
sir
Roger
Otley
I
beléeue
you
,
With
more
then
many
thankes
for
the
kind
loue
,
So
much
you
séeme
to
beare
me
:
but
my
Lord
,
Let
me
request
your
helpe
to
séeke
my
Nephew
,
Whom
if
I
find
,
Ile
straight
embarke
for
France
,
So
shal
my
Rose
be
frée
,
your
thoughts
at
rest
,
And
much
care
die
which
now
dies
in
my
brest
.
Enter
Sibill.
Sibill.
Oh
Lord
,
help
for
Gods
sake
,
my
mistris
,
oh
my
yong
mistris
.
L.
Ma.
Where
is
thy
mistris
?
whats
become
of
her
?
Sibill.
Shées
gone
,
shées
fled
.
L.
Maior
Gone
?
whither
is
she
fled
?
Sibill.
I
know
not
forsooth
,
shées
fled
out
of
doores
with
Hauns
the
Shoomaker
,
I
saw
them
scud
,
scud
,
scud
,
apace
,
apace
.
L.
Maior
Which
way
?
what
Iohn
,
where
be
my
men
?
which
way
?
Sibil
I
know
not
,
and
it
please
your
worship
.
L.
maior
Fled
with
a
shoomaker
,
can
this
be
true
?
Sibil
Oh
Lord
sir
,
as
true
as
Gods
in
heauen
.
Linc.
Her
loue
turnd
shoomaker
?
I
am
glad
of
this
.
L.
ma.
A
fleming
butter
bore
,
a
shoomaker
,
Will
she
forget
her
birth
?
requite
my
care
With
such
ingratitude
?
skornd
she
yong
Hammon
,
To
loue
a
honnikin
,
a
néedie
knaue
?
Wel
let
her
flie
,
Ile
not
flie
after
her
,
Let
her
starue
if
she
wil
,
shées
none
of
mine
.
Linc.
Be
not
so
cruell
sir
.
Enter
Firke
with
shooes
.
Sibil
I
am
glad
shées
scapt
.
L.
Ma.
Ile
not
account
of
her
as
of
my
child
:
Was
there
no
better
obiect
for
her
eies
,
But
a
foule
drunken
lubber
,
swill
bellie
,
A
shoomaker
,
thats
braue
.
Firke
.
Yea
forsooth
,
tis
a
very
braue
shooe
,
and
as
fit
as
a
padding
.
L.
Ma
How
now
,
what
knaue
is
this
,
from
whence
commest
thou
?
Firke
No
knaue
sir
,
I
am
Firke
the
shoomaker
,
lusty
Rogers
cheefe
lustie
iorneyman
,
and
I
come
hither
to
take
vp
the
prettie
legge
of
sweete
mistris
Rose
,
and
thus
hoping
your
worshippe
is
in
as
good
health
as
I
was
at
the
making
hereof
,
I
bid
you
farewell
,
yours
Firke
.
L.
Ma.
Stay
stay
sir
knaue
.
Linc.
Come
hither
shoomaker
.
Firke
Tis
happie
the
knaue
is
put
before
the
shoomaker
,
or
else
I
would
not
haue
vouchsafed
to
come
backe
to
you
,
I
am
moued
,
for
I
stirre
.
L.
Ma.
My
Lorde
,
this
villaine
calles
vs
knaues
by
craft
.
Firk.
Then
tis
by
the
Gentle
Craft
,
and
to
cal
one
knaue
gently
,
is
no
harme
:
sit
your
worship
merie
:
Sib
your
yong
mistris
Ile
so
bob
then
,
now
my
maister
M.
Eyre
is
Lorde
Maior
of
London
.
L.
Ma.
Tell
me
sirra
,
whoes
man
are
you
?
Firke
I
am
glad
to
see
your
worship
so
merrie
,
I
haue
no
maw
to
this
geere
,
no
stomacke
as
yet
to
a
red
peticote
.
Pointing
to
Sibil
.
Lin
He
means
not
sir
to
wooe
you
to
his
maid
,
But
onely
doth
demand
whose
man
you
are
.
Firke
I
sing
now
to
the
tune
of
Rogero
,
Roger
my
felow
is
now
my
master
.
Lin
Sirra
,
knowst
thou
one
Hauns
a
shoomaker
?
Firk
Hauns
shoomaker
,
oh
yes
,
stay
,
yes
I
haue
him
,
I
tel
you
what
,
I
speake
it
in
secret
,
mistris
Rose
,
and
he
are
by
this
time
:
no
not
so
,
but
shortly
are
to
come
ouer
one
another
with
,
Can
you
dance
the
shaking
of
the
shéetes
?
it
is
that
Hauns
,
Ile
so
gull
these
diggers
.
L.
Ma
Knowst
thou
then
where
he
is
?
Firke
Yes
forsooth
,
yea
marry
.
Lin
Canst
thou
in
sadnesse
?
Firke
No
forsooth
,
no
marrie
.
L.
Ma
Tell
me
good
honest
fellow
where
he
is
,
And
thou
shalt
see
what
Ile
bestow
of
thee
.
Firke
Honest
fellow
,
no
sir
,
not
so
sir
,
my
profession
is
the
Gentle
Craft
,
I
care
not
for
séeing
,
I
loue
feeling
,
let
me
feele
it
here
,
aurium
tenus
,
ten
peeces
of
gold
,
genuum
tenus
,
ten
peeces
of
siluer
,
and
then
Firke
is
your
man
in
a
new
paire
of
strechers
.
L.
Ma.
Here
is
an
Angel
,
part
of
thy
reward
,
Which
I
will
giue
thée
,
tell
me
where
he
is
.
Firke
.
No
point
:
shal
I
betray
my
brother
?
no
,
shal
I
proue
Iudas
to
Hans
?
no
,
shall
I
crie
treason
to
my
corporation
?
no
,
I
shall
be
firkt
and
yerkt
then
,
but
giue
me
your
angell
,
your
angell
shall
tel
you
.
Lin
Doe
so
good
fellow
,
tis
no
hurt
to
thée
.
Firke
Send
simpering
Sib
away
.
L.
Ma
Huswife
,
get
you
in
.
exit
Sib.
Firke
.
Pitchers
haue
eares
,
and
maides
haue
wide
mouthes
:
but
for
Hauns
prauns
,
vpon
my
word
to morrow
morning
,
he
and
yong
mistris
Rose
goe
to
this
géere
,
they
shall
be
married
together
,
by
this
rush
,
or
else
tourne
Firke
to
a
firkin
of
butter
to
tanne
leather
withall
.
L.
Ma.
But
art
thou
sure
of
this
?
Firke
Am
I
sure
that
Paules
stéeple
is
a
handfull
higher
then
London
stone
?
or
that
the
pissing
conduit
leakes
nothing
but
pure
mother
Bunch
?
am
I
sure
I
am
lustie
Firke
,
Gods
nailes
doe
you
thinke
I
am
so
base
to
gull
you
?
Linc.
Where
are
they
married
?
dost
thou
know
the
church
?
Firke
I
neuer
goe
to
church
,
but
I
know
the
name
of
it
,
it
is
a
swearing
church
,
stay
a
while
,
tis
:
I
by
the
mas
,
no
,
no
,
tis
I
by
my
troth
,
no
nor
that
,
tis
I
by
my
faith
,
that
that
,
tis
I
by
my
Faithes
church
vnder
Paules
crosse
,
there
they
shall
be
knit
like
a
paire
of
stockings
in
matrimonie
,
there
theile
be
in
conie
.
Lin
.
Upon
my
life
,
my
Nephew
Lacie
walkes
In
the
disguise
of
this
Dutch
shoomaker
.
Firke
Yes
forsooth
.
Linc.
Doth
he
not
honest
fellow
?
Firke
No
forsooth
,
I
thinke
Hauns
is
no bodie
,
but
Hans
no
spirite
.
L.
Ma.
My
mind
misgiues
me
now
tis
so
indéede
.
Lin
.
My
cosen
speakes
the
language
,
knowes
the
trade
.
L.
Ma.
Let
me
request
your
companie
my
Lord
,
Your
honourable
presence
may
,
no
doubt
,
Refraine
their
head-strong
rashnesse
,
when
my selfe
Going
alone
perchance
may
be
oreborne
,
Shall
I
request
this
fauour
?
Linc.
This
,
or
what
else
.
Firke
Then
you
must
rise
betimes
,
for
they
meane
to
fal
to
their
hey
passe
,
and
repasse
,
pindy pandy
,
which
hand
will
you
haue
,
very
earely
.
L.
Ma.
My
care
shal
euery
way
equal
their
haste
,
This
night
accept
your
lodging
in
my
house
,
The
earlier
shal
we
stir
,
and
at
Saint
Faithes
Preuent
this
giddy
hare-braind
nuptiall
,
This
trafficke
of
hot
loue
shal
yéeld
cold
gaines
,
They
ban
our
loues
,
and
wéele
forbid
their
baines
.
exeunt
.
Linc.
At
Saint
Faithes
church
thou
saist
.
Firke
Yes
,
by
their
troth
.
Linc.
Be
secret
on
thy
life
.
Firke
Yes
,
when
I
kisse
your
wife
,
ha
,
ha
,
heres
no
craft
in
the
Gentle
Craft
,
I
came
hither
of
purpose
with
shooes
to
sir
Rogers
worship
,
whilst
Rose
his
daughter
be
coniecatcht
by
Hauns
:
soft
nowe
,
these
two
gulles
will
be
at
Saint
Faithes
church
to morrow
morning
,
to
take
master
Bride-groome
,
and
mistris
Bride
napping
,
and
they
in
the
meane
time
shal
chop
vp
the
matter
at
the
Sauoy
:
but
the
best
sport
is
,
sir
Roger
Otly
wil
find
my
felow
lame
,
Rafes
wife
going
to
marry
a
gentleman
,
and
then
heele
stop
her
in
stéede
of
his
daughter
;
oh
braue
,
there
wil
be
fine
tickling
sport
:
soft
now
,
what
haue
I
to
doe
?
oh
I
know
now
a
messe
of
shoomakers
meate
at
the
wooll
sack
in
I
vie
lane
,
to
cozen
my
gentleman
of
lame
Rafes
wife
,
thats
true
,
alacke
,
alacke
girles
,
holde
out
tacke
,
for
nowe
smockes
for
this
tumbling
shall
goe
to
wracke
.
exit
Enter
Ayre
,
his
Wife
,
Hauns
,
and
Rose
.
Eyre
This
is
the
morning
then
,
stay
my
bully
my
honest
Hauns
,
is
it
not
?
Hans
This
is
the
morning
that
must
make
vs
two
happy
,
or
miserable
,
therefore
if
you
Eyre
Away
with
these
iffes
and
ands
Hauns
,
and
these
et
caeteraes
,
by
mine
honor
Rowland
Lacie
none
but
the
king
shall
wrong
thée
:
come
,
feare
nothing
,
am
not
I
Sim
Eyre
?
Is
not
Sim
Eyre
Lord
mayor
of
London
?
feare
nothing
Rose
,
let
them
al
say
what
they
can
,
dainty
come
thou
to
me
:
laughest
thou
?
Wife
Good
my
lord
,
stand
her
friend
in
what
thing
you
may
.
Eyre
Why
my
swéete
lady
Madgy
,
thincke
you
Simon
Eyre
can
forget
his
fine
dutch
Iourneyman
?
No
vah
.
Fie
I
scorne
it
,
it
shall
neuer
be
cast
in
my
teeth
,
that
I
was
vnthankeful
.
Lady
Madgy
,
thou
hadst
neuer
couerd
thy
Saracens
head
with
this
french
flappe
,
nor
loaden
thy
bumme
with
this
farthingale
,
tis
trash
,
trumpery
,
vanity
,
Simon
Eyre
had
neuer
walkte
in
a
redde
petticoate
,
nor
wore
a
chaine
of
golde
,
but
for
my
fine
Iourneymans
portigues
,
and
shall
I
leaue
him
?
No
:
Prince
am
I
none
,
yet
beare
a
princely
minde
.
Hans
My
Lorde
,
tis
time
for
vs
to
part
from
hence
.
Eyre
Lady
Madgy
,
lady
Madgy
,
take
two
or
thrée
of
my
pie-crust
eaters
,
my
buffe-ierkin
varlets
,
that
doe
walke
in
blacke
gownes
at
Simon
Eyres
héeles
,
take
them
good
lady
Madgy
,
trippe
and
goe
,
my
browne
Quéene
uf
Perriwigs
,
with
my
delicate
Rose
,
and
my
iolly
Rowland
to
the
Sauoy
,
see
them
linckte
,
countenaunce
the
marriage
,
and
when
it
is
done
,
cling
,
cling
together
,
you
Bamborow
Turtle
Doues
,
Ile
beare
you
out
,
come
to
Simon
Eyre
,
come
dwell
with
me
Hauns
,
thou
shalt
eate
mincde
pies
,
and
marchpane
.
Rose
,
away
cricket
,
trippe
and
goe
,
my
Lady
Madgy
to
the
Sauoy
,
Hauns
,
wed
,
and
to
bed
,
kisse
and
away
,
go
,
vanish
.
Wife
Farewel
my
lord
.
Rose
Make
haste
sweet
loue
.
Wife
Shéede
faine
the
deede
were
done
.
Hauns
Come
my
swéete
Rose
,
faster
than
Déere
wéele
runne
.
They
goe
out
.
Eyre
Goe
,
vanish
,
vanish
,
auaunt
I
say
:
by
the
lorde
of
Ludgate
,
its
a
madde
life
to
be
a
lorde
Mayor
,
its
a
stirring
life
,
a
fine
life
,
a
veluet
life
,
a
carefull
life
.
Well
Simon
Eyre
,
yet
set
a
good
face
on
it
,
in
the
honor
of
sainct
Hugh
.
Soft
,
the
king
this
day
comes
to
dine
with
me
,
to
see
my
new
buildings
,
his
maiesty
is
welcome
,
he
shal
haue
good
chéere
,
delicate
cheere
,
princely
cheere
.
This
day
my
felow
prentises
of
London
come
to
dine
with
me
too
,
they
shall
haue
fine
cheere
,
gentlemanlike
cheere
.
I
promised
the
mad
Cappidosians
,
when
we
all
serued
at
the
Conduit
together
,
that
if
euer
I
came
to
be
Mayor
of
London
,
I
woould
feast
them
al
,
and
Ile
doot
,
Ile
doot
by
the
life
of
Pharaoh
,
by
this
beard
Sim
Eire
wil
be
no
flincher
.
Besides
,
I
haue
procurd
,
that
vpon
euery
Shrouetuesday
,
at
the
sound
of
the
pancake
bell
:
my
fine
dapper
Allyrian
lads
,
shall
clap
vp
their
shop
windows
,
and
away
,
this
is
the
day
,
and
this
day
they
shall
doot
,
they
shall
doot
:
boyes
,
that
day
are
you
frée
,
let
masters
care
,
and
prentises
shall
pray
for
Simon
Eyre
.
exit
.
Enter
Hodge
,
Firke
,
Rafe
,
and
fiue
or
sixe
shoomakers
,
all
with
cudgels
,
or
such
weapons
.
Hodge
Come
Rafe
,
stand
to
it
Firke
:
my
masters
,
as
we
are
the
braue
bloods
of
the
shooemakers
,
heires
apparant
to
saint
Hugh
,
and
perpetuall
benefactors
to
all
good
fellowes
:
thou
shalt
haue
no
wrong
,
were
Hammon
a
king
of
spades
,
he
should
not
delue
in
thy
close
without
thy
sufferaunce
:
but
tell
me
Rafe
,
art
thou
sure
tis
thy
wife
?
Rafe
Am
I
sure
this
is
Firke
?
This
morning
when
I
strokte
on
her
shooes
,
I
lookte
vpon
her
,
and
she
vpon
me
,
and
sighed
,
askte
me
if
euer
I
knew
one
Rafe
.
Yes
sayde
I
:
for
his
sake
saide
she
(
teares
standing
in
her
eyes
)
and
for
thou
art
somewhat
like
him
,
spend
this
péece
of
golde
:
I
tooke
it
:
my
lame
leg
,
and
my
trauel
beyond
sea
made
me
vnknown
,
all
is
one
for
that
,
I
know
shées
mine
.
Firke
Did
she
giue
thée
this
gold
?
O
glorious
glittering
gold
;
shées
thine
owne
,
tis
thy
wife
,
and
she
loues
thée
,
for
Ile
stand
toot
,
theres
no
woman
will
giue
golde
to
any
man
,
but
she
thinkes
better
of
him
than
she
thinkes
of
them
shee
giues
siluer
to
:
and
for
Hamon
,
neither
Hamon
nor
Hangman
shall
wrong
thée
in
London
:
Is
not
òur
olde
maister
Eire
lord
Mayor
?
Speake
my
hearts
.
All
.
Yes
,
and
Hamon
shall
know
it
to
his
cost
.
Enter
hamon
,
his
man
,
Iane
,
and
other
.
Hodge
Peace
my
bullies
,
yonder
they
come
.
Rafe
,
Stand
toot
my
hearts
,
Firke
,
let
me
speake
first
.
Hodge
No
Rafe
,
let
me
:
Hammon
,
whither
away
so
earely
?
Hamon
Unmannerly
rude
slaue
,
whats
that
to
thée
?
Firke
To
him
sir
?
yes
sir
,
and
to
me
,
and
others
:
good
morow
Iane
,
how
dost
thou
?
good
Lord
,
how
the
world
is
changed
with
you
,
God
be
thanked
.
Hamon
Villaines
,
handes
off
,
howe
dare
you
touch
my
loue
?
All
.
villaines
?
downe
with
them
,
cry
clubs
for
prentises
.
Hod.
How
,
my
hearts
touch
her
Hamon
?
yea
and
more
than
that
,
wéele
carry
her
away
with
vs
.
My
maisters
and
gentlemen
,
neuer
draw
your
bird
spittes
,
shooemakers
are
steele
to
the
backe
,
men
euery
inch
of
them
,
al
spirite
.
All
.
of
Hamons
side
Wel
,
and
what
of
all
this
?
Hodge
Ile
shew
you
:
Iane
,
dost
thou
know
this
man
?
tis
Rafe
I
can
tell
thee
:
nay
,
tis
he
in
faith
,
though
he
be
lamde
by
the
warres
,
yet
looke
not
strange
,
but
run
to
him
,
fold
him
about
the
necke
and
kisse
him
.
Iane
Liues
then
my
husband
?
oh
God
let
me
go
,
Let
me
embrace
my
Rafe
.
Hamon
What
meanes
my
Iane
?
Iane
Nay
,
what
meant
yon
to
tell
me
he
was
slaine
?
Ham.
Pardon
me
deare
loue
for
being
misled
,
Twas
rumord
here
in
London
thou
wert
dead
.
Firke
Thou
séest
he
liues
:
Lasse
,
goe
packe
home
with
him
:
now
M.
Hamon
,
wheres
your
mistris
your
wife
?
Seru.
Swounds
M.
fight
for
her
,
will
you
thus
lose
her
?
All
.
Downe
with
that
creature
,
clubs
,
downe
with
him
.
Hodge
Hold
,
hold
.
Ham.
Hold
foole
,
sirs
he
shal
do
no
wrong
,
Wil
my
Iane
leaue
me
thus
,
and
breake
her
faith
?
Firke
Yea
sir
,
she
must
sir
,
she
shal
sir
,
what
then
?
mend
it
.
Hodge
Hearke
fellow
Rafe
,
folowe
my
counsel
,
set
the
wench
in
the
midst
,
and
let
her
chuse
her
man
,
and
let
her
be
his
woman
.
Iane
Whom
should
I
choose
?
whom
should
my
thoughts
affect
?
But
him
whom
heauen
hath
made
to
be
my
loue
,
Thou
art
my
husband
and
these
humble
wéedes
,
Makes
thée
more
beautiful
then
all
his
wealth
,
Therefore
I
wil
but
put
off
his
attire
,
Returning
it
into
the
owners
hand
,
And
after
euer
be
thy
constant
wife
.
Hodge
.
Not
a
ragge
Iane
,
the
law's
on
our
side
,
he
that
sowes
in
another
mans
ground
forfets
his
haruest
,
get
thée
home
Rafe
,
follow
him
Iane
,
he
shall
not
haue
so
much
as
a
buske
point
from
thée
.
Firke
Stand
to
that
Rafe
,
the
appurtenances
are
thine
owne
,
Hammon
,
looke
not
at
her
.
Seru.
O
swounds
no
.
Firke
Blew
coate
be
quiet
,
wéele
giue
you
a
new
liuerie
else
,
wéele
make
Shroue
Tuesday
Saint
Georges
day
for
you
:
looke
not
Hammon
,
leare
not
,
Ile
Firke
you
,
for
thy
head
now
,
one
glance
,
one
shéepes
eie
,
any
thing
at
her
,
touch
not
a
ragge
,
least
I
and
my
brethren
beate
you
to
clowtes
.
S.
Come
master
Hammon
,
theres
no
striuing
here
.
Ham.
Good
fellowes
,
heare
me
speake
:
and
honest
Rafe
,
Whom
I
haue
iniured
most
by
louing
Iane
,
Marke
what
I
offer
thée
:
here
in
faire
gold
Is
twentie
pound
,
Ile
giue
it
for
thy
Iane
,
If
this
content
thée
not
,
thou
shalt
haue
more
.
Hodge
.
Sell
not
thy
wife
Rafe
,
make
her
not
a
whore
.
Ham.
Say
,
wilt
thou
fréely
cease
thy
claime
in
her
,
And
let
her
be
my
wife
?
All
.
No
,
do
not
Rafe
.
Rafe
Sirra
Hammon
Hammon
,
dost
thou
thinke
a
Shooe-maker
is
so
base
,
to
bee
a
bawde
to
his
owne
wife
for
commoditie
,
take
thy
golde
,
choake
with
it
,
were
I
not
lame
,
I
would
make
thée
eate
thy
words
.
Firke
A
shoomaker
sell
his
flesh
and
bloud
,
oh
indignitie
!
Hod.
Sirra
,
take
vp
your
pelfe
,
and
be
packing
.
Ham
I
will
not
touch
one
pennie
,
but
in
liew
Of
that
great
wrong
I
offered
thy
Iane
,
To
Iane
and
thée
I
giue
that
twentie
pound
,
Since
I
haue
faild
of
her
,
during
my
life
I
vow
no
woman
else
shall
be
my
wife
:
Farewell
good
fellowes
of
the
Gentle
trade
,
Your
mornings
mirth
my
mourning
day
hath
made
.
exeunt
Firke
Touch
the
gold
creature
if
you
dare
,
ya're
best
be
trudging
:
here
Iane
take
thou
it
,
now
lets
home
my
hearts
.
Hod.
Stay
,
who
comes
here
?
Iane
,
on
againe
with
thy
maske
.
Enter
Lincolne
,
L.
Maior
,
and
seruants
.
Linc.
Yonders
the
lying
varlet
mockt
vs
so
.
L.
Ma.
Come
hither
sirra
.
Firke
.
I
sir
,
I
am
sirra
,
you
meane
me
,
do
you
not
?
Linc.
Where
is
my
Nephew
married
?
Firke
Is
he
married
?
God
giue
him
ioy
,
I
am
glad
of
it
:
they
haue
a
faire
day
,
and
the
signe
is
in
a
good
planet
,
Mars
in
Venus
.
L.
Ma
Villaine
,
thou
toldst
,
me
that
my
daughter
Rose
,
This
morning
should
be
married
at
Saint
Faithes
,
We
haue
watcht
there
these
thrée
houres
at
the
least
,
Yet
sée
we
no
such
thing
.
Firke
Truly
I
am
sorie
for't
,
a
Bride's
a
prettie
thing
.
Hodge
Come
to
the
purpose
,
yonder's
the
Bride
and
Bridegroome
you
looke
for
I
hope
:
though
you
be
Lordes
,
you
are
not
to
barre
,
by
your
authoritie
,
men
from
women
,
are
you
?
L.
Ma
Sée
sée
my
daughters
maskt
.
Linc.
True
,
and
my
Nephew
.
To
hide
his
guilt
,
counterfeits
him
lame
.
Firke
Yea
truely
god
helpe
the
poore
couple
,
they
are
lame
and
blind
.
L.
Maior
Ile
ease
her
blindnes
.
Lin
.
Ile
his
lamenes
cure
.
Firke
Lie
downe
sirs
,
and
laugh
,
my
felow
Rafe
is
taken
for
Rowland
Lacy
,
and
Iane
for
mistris
damaske
rose
,
this
is
al
my
knauery
.
L.
Maior
What
,
haue
I
found
you
minion
?
Linc.
O
base
wretch
,
Nay
hide
thy
face
,
the
horror
of
thy
guilt
,
Can
hardly
be
washt
off
:
where
are
thy
powers
?
What
vattels
haue
you
made
?
O
yes
I
see
Thou
foughtst
with
Shame
,
and
shame
hath
conquerd
thée
.
This
lamenesse
wil
not
serue
.
L.
Ma.
Unmaske
your selfe
.
Lin
.
Leade
home
your
daughter
.
L.
Ma.
Take
your
Nephew
hence
.
Rafe
.
Hence
,
swounds
,
what
meane
you
?
are
you
mad
?
I
hope
you
cannot
inforce
my
wife
from
me
,
wheres
Hamon
?
L.
Ma.
Your
wife
.
Lin
.
What
Hammon
?
Rafe
Yea
my
wife
,
and
therfore
the
prowdest
of
you
that
laies
hands
on
her
first
,
Ile
lay
my
crutch
crosse
his
pate
.
Firke
To
him
lame
Rafe
,
heres
braue
sport
.
Rafe
Rose
call
you
her
?
why
her
name
is
Iane
,
looke
here
else
,
do
you
know
her
now
?
Lin
.
Is
this
your
daughter
?
L.
Ma.
No
,
nor
this
your
nephew
:
My
Lord
of
Lincolne
,
we
are
both
abusde
By
this
base
craftie
varlet
.
Firk
Yea
forsooth
no
varlet
,
forsooth
no
base
,
forsooth
I
am
but
meane
,
no
crattie
neither
,
but
of
the
Gentle
Craft
.
L.
Ma.
Where
is
my
daughter
Rose
?
where
is
my
child
?
Lin
.
Where
is
my
nephew
Lacie
married
?
Firke
Why
here
is
good
laide
mutton
as
I
promist
you
.
Lin
.
Villaine
,
Ile
haue
thée
punisht
for
this
wrong
.
Firke
Punish
the
iornyman
villaine
,
but
not
the
iorneyman
shoomaker
.
Enter
Dodger
.
Dodger
.
My
Lord
I
come
to
bring
vnwelcome
newes
,
Your
Nephew
Lacie
,
and
your
daughter
Rose
,
Earely
this
morning
wedded
at
the
Sauoy
,
None
being
present
but
the
Ladie
Mairesse
:
Besides
I
learnt
among
the
officers
,
The
Lord
Maior
vowes
to
stand
in
their
defence
,
Gainst
any
that
shal
seeke
to
crosse
the
match
.
Lin
.
Dares
Eyre
the
shoomaker
vphold
the
deede
?
Firk
Yes
sir
,
shoomakers
dare
stand
in
a
womans
quarrel
I
warrant
you
,
as
deepe
as
another
,
and
deeper
too
.
Dod.
Besides
,
his
grace
,
to day
dines
with
the
Maior
,
Who
on
his
knées
humbly
intends
to
fall
,
And
beg
a
pardon
for
your
Nephewes
fault
.
Lin
.
But
Ile
preuent
him
come
sir
Roger
Oteley
,
The
king
wil
doe
vs
iustice
in
this
cause
,
How ere
their
hands
haue
made
them
man
and
wife
,
I
wil
disioyne
the
match
,
or
loose
my
life
.
exeunt
.
Firke
Adue
monsieur
Dodger
,
farewel
fooles
,
ha
ha
,
Oh
if
they
had
staide
I
would
haue
so
lambde
them
with
floutes
,
O
heart
,
my
codpéece
point
is
readie
to
flie
in
péeces
euery
time
I
thinke
vpon
mistris
Rose
,
but
let
that
passe
,
as
my
Ladie
Mairesse
saies
.
Hodge
This
matter
is
answerd
:
come
Rafe
,
home
with
thy
wife
,
come
my
fine
shoomakers
,
lets
to
our
masters
the
new
lord
Maior
and
there
swagger
this
shroue
Tuesday
,
ile
promise
you
wine
enough
,
for
Madge
kéepes
the
seller
.
All
.
O
rare
!
Madge
is
a
good
wench
.
Firke
And
Ile
promise
you
meate
enough
,
for
simpring
Susan
kéepes
the
larder
,
Ile
leade
you
to
victuals
my
braue
souldiers
,
follow
your
captaine
,
O
braue
,
hearke
,
hearke
.
Bell
ringes
.
All
.
The
Pancake
bell
rings
,
the
pancake
bel
,
tri-lill
my
hearts
.
Firke
Oh
braue
,
oh
swéete
bell
,
O
delicate
pancakes
,
open
the
doores
my
hearts
,
and
shut
vp
the
windowes
,
kéepe
in
the
house
,
let
out
the
pancakes
:
oh
rare
my
heartes
,
lets
march
together
for
the
honor
of
saint
Hugh
to
the
great
new
hall
in
Gratious
streete
corner
,
which
our
Maister
the
newe
lord
Maior
hath
built
.
Rafe
O
the
crew
of
good
fellows
that
wil
dine
at
my
lord
,
Maiors
cost
to day
!
Hodge
By
the
lord
,
my
lord
Maior
is
a
most
braue
man
,
how
shal
prentises
be
bound
to
pray
for
him
,
and
the
honour
of
the
gentlemen
shoomakers
?
lets
feede
and
be
fat
with
my
lordes
bountye
.
Fir.
O
musical
be
stil
!
O
Hodge
,
O
my
brethren
!
theres
chéere
for
the
heauens
,
venson
pastimes
walke
vp
and
down
piping
hote
,
like
sergeants
,
beefe
and
brewesse
comes
marching
in
drie
fattes
,
fritters
and
pancakes
comes
trowling
in
in
whéele
barrowes
,
hennes
and
orenges
hopping
in
porters
baskets
,
colloppes
and
egges
in
scuttles
,
and
tartes
and
custardes
comes
quauering
in
in
mault
shouels
.
Enter
more
prentises
.
All
.
Whoop
,
looke
here
,
looke
here
.
Hodge
How
now
madde
laddes
,
whither
away
so
fast
?
I.
Pren.
Whither
,
why
to
the
great
new
hall
,
know
you
not
why
?
The
lorde
Maior
hath
bidden
all
the
prentises
in
London
to
breakfast
this
morning
.
All
.
Oh
braue
shoomaker
,
oh
braue
lord
of
incomprehensible
good
fellowship
,
whoo
,
hearke
you
,
the
pancake
bell
rings
.
Cast
vp
caps
.
Firke
Nay
more
my
hearts
,
euery
Shrouetuesday
is
our
yéere
of
Jubile
:
and
when
the
pancake
bel
rings
,
we
are
as
free
as
my
lord
Maior
,
we
may
shut
vp
our
shops
,
and
make
holiday
:
Ile
haue
it
calld
,
Saint
Hughes
Holiday
.
All
.
Agreed
,
agreed
,
Saint
Hughes
Holiday
.
Hodge
And
this
shal
continue
for
euer
.
All
.
Oh
braue
!
come
come
my
hearts
,
away
,
away
.
Firke
O
eternall
credite
to
vs
of
the
gentle
Craft
,
march
faire
my
hearts
,
oh
rare
.
exeunt
.
Enter
King
and
his
traine
ouer
the
stage
.
King
Is
our
lord
Maior
of
London
such
a
gallant
?
Noble
man
One
of
the
merriest
madcaps
in
your
land
,
Your
Grace
wil
thinke
,
when
you
behold
the
man
,
Hées
rather
a
wilde
ruffin
than
a
Maior
:
Yet
thus
much
Ile
ensure
your
maiestie
,
In
al
his
actions
that
concerne
his
state
,
He
is
as
serious
,
prouident
,
and
wise
,
As
full
of
grauitie
amongst
the
graue
,
As
any
maior
hath
beene
these
many
yeares
.
King
I
am
with
child
til
I
behold
this
halfe
cap
,
But
all
my
doubt
is
,
when
we
come
in
presence
,
His
madnesse
will
be
dasht
cleane
out
of
countenance
.
Noble
man
It
may
be
so
,
my
Liege
.
King
Which
to
preuent
,
Let
some
one
giue
him
notice
,
tis
our
pleasure
,
That
he
put
on
his
woonted
merriment
:
Set
forward
.
All
.
On
afore
.
exeunt
.
Enter
Ayre
Hodge
,
Firke
,
Rafe
,
and
other
shoemakers
,
all
with
napkins
on
their
shoulders
.
Eyre
Come
my
fine
Hodge
,
my
iolly
gentlemen
shooemakers
,
soft
,
where
be
these
Caniballes
,
these
varlets
my
officers
,
let
them
al
walke
and
waite
vpon
my
brethren
,
for
my
meaning
is
,
that
none
but
shoomakers
,
none
but
the
liuery
of
my
Company
shall
in
their
sattin
hoodes
waite
vppon
the
trencher
of
my
soueraigne
.
Firke
O
my
Lord
,
it
will
be
rare
.
Ayre
No
more
Firke
,
come
liuely
,
let
your
fellowe
prentises
want
no
cheere
,
let
wine
be
plentiful
as
béere
,
and
beere
as
water
,
hang
these
penny
pinching
fathers
,
that
cramme
wealth
in
innocent
lamb
skinnes
,
rip
knaues
,
anaunt
,
looke
to
my
guests
Hodge
My
Lord
,
we
are
at
our
wits
end
for
roome
,
those
hundred
tables
wil
not
feast
the
fourth
part
of
them
.
Ayre
Then
couer
me
those
hundred
tables
againe
,
and
againe
,
til
all
my
iolly
prentises
be
feasted
:
auoyde
Hodge
,
runne
Rafe
,
friske
about
my
numble
Firke
,
carowse
me
fadome
healths
to
the
honor
of
the
shoomakers
:
do
they
drink
liuely
Hodge
?
do
they
tickle
it
Firke
?
Firke
Tickle
it
?
some
of
them
haue
taken
their
licour
standing
so
long
,
that
they
can
stand
no
longer
:
but
for
meate
,
they
would
eate
it
and
they
had
it
.
Ayre
Want
they
meate
?
wheres
this
swag-belly
,
this
greasie
kitchinstuffe
cooke
,
call
the
varlet
to
me
:
want
meat
!
Firke
,
Hodge
,
lame
Rafe
,
runne
my
tall
men
,
beleager
the
shambles
,
beggar
al
East-Cheape
,
serue
me
whole
oxen
in
chargers
,
and
let
sheepe
whine
vpon
the
tables
like
pigges
for
want
of
good
felowes
to
eate
them
.
Want
meate
!
vanish
Firke
,
auaunt
Hodge
.
Hodge
Your
lordship
mistakes
my
man
Firke
,
he
means
their
bellies
want
meate
,
not
the
boords
,
for
they
haue
drunk
so
much
they
can
eate
nothing
.
Eneer
hans
,
Rose
,
and
Wife
.
Wife
Where
is
my
Lord
.
Ayre
How
now
lady
Madgy
.
Wife
The
kings
most
excelent
maiesty
is
new
come
,
hée
sends
me
for
thy
honor
:
one
of
his
most
worshipful
Péeres
,
bade
me
tel
thou
must
be
mery
,
and
so
forth
:
but
let
that
passe
.
Eyre
Is
my
Soueraigne
come
?
vanish
my
tall
shoomakers
,
my
nimble
brethren
,
looke
to
my
guests
the
prentises
:
yet
stay
a
little
,
how
now
Hans
,
how
lookes
my
little
Rose
?
Hans
Let
me
request
you
to
remember
me
,
I
know
your
honour
easily
may
obtaine
,
Frée
pardon
of
the
king
for
me
and
Rose
,
And
reconcile
me
to
my
vncles
grace
.
Eyre
Haue
done
my
good
Hans
,
my
honest
iorneyman
,
looke
chéerely
,
Ile
fall
vpon
both
my
knees
till
they
be
as
hard
as
horne
,
but
Ile
get
thy
pardon
.
Wife
Good
my
Lord
haue
a
care
what
you
speake
to
his
grace
.
Eyre
Away
you
I
slington
whitepot
,
hence
you
happerarse
,
you
barly
pudding
ful
of
magots
,
you
broyld
carbonado
,
auaunt
,
auaunt
,
auoide
Mephostophilus
:
shall
Sim
Eyre
leaue
to
speake
of
you
Ladie
Madgie
?
vanish
mother
Miniuer
cap
,
vanish
,
goe
,
trip
and
goe
,
meddle
with
your
partlets
,
and
your
pishery pasherie
,
your
flewes
and
your
whirligigs
,
go
,
rub
,
out
of
mine
alley
:
Sim
Eyre
knowes
how
to
speake
to
a
Pope
,
to
Sultan
Soliman
,
to
Tamburlaine
and
he
were
here
:
and
shal
I
melt
?
shal
I
droope
before
my
Soueraigne
?
no
,
come
my
Ladie
Madgie
,
follow
me
Hauns
,
about
your
businesse
my
frolicke
frée-booters
:
Firke
,
friske
about
,
and
about
,
and
about
,
for
the
honour
of
mad
Simon
Eyre
Lord
Maior
of
London
.
Firke
Hey
for
the
honour
of
the
shoomakers
.
exeunt
.
A
long
flourish
or
two
:
enter
King
,
Nobles
,
Eyre
,
his
wife
,
Lacie
,
Rose
:
Lacie
and
Rose
kneele
.
King
Well
Lacie
though
the
fact
was
verie
foule
,
Of
your
reuolting
from
our
kingly
loue
,
And
your
owne
duetie
,
yet
we
pardon
you
,
Rise
both
,
and
mistris
Lacie
,
thanke
my
Lord
Maior
For
your
yong
bridegroome
here
.
Eyre
So
my
déere
liege
,
Sim
Eyre
and
my
brethren
the
gentlemen
shoomakers
shal
set
your
swéete
maiesties
image
,
cheeke
by
iowle
by
Saint
Hugh
,
for
this
honour
you
haue
done
poore
Simon
Eyre
,
I
beséeth
your
grace
pardon
my
rude
behauiour
,
I
am
a
handicrafts
man
,
yet
my
heart
is
without
craft
,
I
would
be
sory
at
my
soule
,
that
my
boldnesse
should
offend
my
king
.
King
Nay
,
I
pray
thée
good
lord
Maior
,
be
euen
as
mery
as
if
thou
wert
among
thy
shoomakers
,
It
does
me
good
to
see
thee
in
this
humour
.
Eyre
Saist
thou
me
so
my
swéete
Dioclesian
?
then
hump
,
Prince
am
I
none
,
yet
am
I
princely
borne
,
by
the
Lord
of
Ludgate
my
Liege
,
Ile
be
as
merrie
as
a
pie
.
King
Tel
me
infaith
mad
Eyre
,
how
old
thou
art
.
Eyre
My
Liege
a
verie
boy
,
a
stripling
,
a
yonker
,
you
sée
not
a
white
haire
on
my
head
,
not
a
gray
in
this
beard
,
euerie
haire
I
assure
thy
maiestie
that
stickes
in
this
beard
,
Sim
Eyre
values
at
the
king
of
Babilons
ransome
,
Tama
Chams
beard
was
a
rubbing
brush
toot
:
yet
Ile
shaue
it
off
,
and
stuffe
tennis
balls
with
it
to
please
my
bully
king
.
King
But
all
this
while
I
do
not
know
your
age
.
Eyre
My
liege
,
I
am
sixe
and
fiftie
yeare
olde
,
yet
I
can
crie
humpe
,
with
a
sound
heart
for
the
honour
of
Saint
Hugh
:
marke
this
olde
wench
,
my
king
,
I
dauncde
the
shaking
of
the
sheetes
with
her
sixe
and
thirtie
yeares
agoe
,
and
yet
I
hope
to
get
two
or
three
yong
Lorde
Maiors
ere
I
die
:
I
am
lustie
still
,
Sim
Eyre
still
:
care
,
and
colde
lodging
brings
white
haires
.
My
swéete
Maiestie
,
let
care
vanish
,
cast
it
vppon
thy
Nobles
,
it
will
make
thée
looke
alwayes
young
like
Apollo
,
and
crye
humpe
:
Prince
am
I
none
,
yet
am
I
princely
borne
.
King
Ha
ha
:
saye
Cornewall
,
didst
thou
euer
sée
his
like
?
Noble
man
Not
I
,
my
Lorde
.
Enter
Lincolne
,
and
Lord
Maior
.
King
Lincolne
,
what
newes
with
you
?
Linc.
My
gracious
Lord
,
haue
care
vnto
your selfe
,
For
there
are
traytors
here
.
All
.
Traytors
,
where
?
who
?
Eyre
Traitors
in
my
house
?
God
forbid
,
where
be
my
officers
?
Ile
spend
my
soule
ere
my
king
féele
harme
.
King
Where
is
the
traytor
?
Lincolne
.
Linc.
Here
he
stands
.
King
Cornewall
,
lay
hold
on
Lacie
:
Lincolne
,
speake
:
What
canst
thou
lay
vnto
thy
Nephewes
charge
?
Linc.
This
my
deere
liege
:
your
grace
to
doe
me
honour
,
Heapt
on
the
head
of
this
degenerous
boy
,
Desertlesse
fauours
,
you
made
choise
of
him
,
To
be
commander
ouer
powers
in
France
,
But
he
.
King
Good
Lincolne
pry
thée
pawse
a
while
,
Euen
in
thine
eies
I
reade
what
thou
wouldst
speake
,
I
know
how
Lacie
did
neglect
our
loue
,
Ranne
himselfe
déepely
(
in
the
highest
degrée
)
Into
vile
treason
.
Linc.
Is
he
not
a
traytor
?
King
Lincolne
,
he
was
:
now
haue
we
pardned
him
,
Twas
not
a
base
want
of
true
valors
fire
,
That
held
him
out
of
France
,
but
loues
desire
.
Linc.
I
wil
not
beare
his
shame
vpon
my
backe
.
King
Nor
shalt
thou
Lincolne
,
I
forgive
you
both
.
Lin
Then
(
good
my
liege
)
forbid
the
boy
to
wed
One
,
whose
meane
birth
will
much
disgrace
his
bed
.
King
Are
they
not
married
?
Linc.
No
my
Liege
.
Both
We
are
.
King
Shall
I
divorce
them
then
?
O
be
it
farre
,
That
any
hand
on
earth
should
dare
vntie
,
The
sacred
knot
knit
by
Gods
maiestie
,
I
would
not
for
my
crowne
disioyne
their
hands
,
That
are
conioynd
in
holy
nuptiall
bands
,
How
saist
thou
Lacy
?
wouldst
thou
loose
thy
Rose
?
Hans
Not
for
all
Indians
wealth
,
my
soueraigne
.
King
But
Rose
I
am
sure
her
Lacie
would
forgoe
.
Rose
If
Rose
were
askt
that
question
,
sheed
say
,
no
.
King
You
heare
them
Lincolne
.
Linc
Yea
my
liege
,
I
do
.
King
Yet
canst
thou
find
ith
heart
to
part
these
two
?
Who
séeks
,
besides
you
,
to
diuorce
these
louers
?
L.
Ma.
I
do
(
my
gracious
Lord
)
I
am
her
father
.
King
Sir
Roger
Oteley
,
our
last
Maior
I
thinke
,
Nob
The
same
my
liege
.
King
Would
you
offend
Loues
lawes
?
Wel
,
you
shal
haue
your
wills
,
you
sue
to
me
,
To
prohibite
the
match
:
Soft
,
let
me
sée
,
You
both
are
married
,
Lacie
,
art
thou
not
?
Hans
I
am
,
dread
Soueraigne
.
King
Then
vpon
thy
life
,
I
charge
thée
,
not
to
call
this
woman
wife
.
L.
Ma.
I
thanke
your
grace
.
Rose
O
my
most
gratious
Lord
!
kneele
King
Nay
Rose
,
neuer
wooe
me
,
I
tel
you
true
,
Although
as
yet
I
am
a
batchellor
,
Yet
I
beléèue
I
shal
not
marry
you
.
Rose
Can
you
diuide
the
body
from
the
soule
,
Yet
make
the
body
liue
?
King
Yea
,
so
profound
?
I
cannot
Rose
,
but
you
I
must
diuide
:
Faire
maide
,
this
bridegroome
cannot
be
your
bride
.
Are
you
pleasde
Lincolne
?
Oteley
,
are
you
pleasde
?
Both
Yes
my
Lord
.
King
Then
must
my
heart
be
easde
,
For
credit
me
,
my
conscience
liues
in
paine
,
Til
these
whom
I
deuorcde
be
ioyned
againe
:
Lacy
,
giue
me
thy
hand
,
Rose
,
lend
me
thine
.
Be
what
you
would
be
:
kisse
now
:
so
,
thats
fine
,
At
night
(
louers
)
to
bed
:
now
let
me
sée
,
Which
of
you
all
mislikes
this
harmony
?
L.
Ma.
Wil
you
then
take
from
me
my
child
perforce
?
King
Why
tell
me
Oteley
,
shines
not
Lacies
name
,
As
bright
in
the
worldes
eye
,
as
the
gay
beames
Of
any
citizen
?
Linc.
Yea
but
my
gratious
Lord
,
I
do
mislike
the
match
farre
more
than
he
,
Her
bloud
is
too
too
base
.
King
Lincolne
,
no
more
,
Dost
thou
not
know
,
that
loue
respects
no
bloud
?
Cares
not
for
difference
of
birth
,
or
state
,
The
maide
is
yong
,
wel
borne
,
faire
,
vertuous
,
A
worthy
bride
for
any
gentleman
:
Besides
,
your
nephew
for
her
sake
did
stoope
To
bare
necessitie
:
and
as
I
heare
,
Forgetting
honors
,
and
all
courtly
pleasures
,
To
gaine
her
loue
,
became
a
shooemaker
.
As
for
the
honor
which
he
lost
in
France
,
Thus
I
redéeme
it
:
Lacie
,
knéele
thée
downe
,
Arise
sir
Rowland
Lacie
:
tell
me
now
,
Tell
me
in
earnest
Oteley
,
canst
thou
chide
?
Séeing
thy
Rose
a
ladie
and
a
bryde
.
Lord
Maior
.
I
am
content
with
what
your
Grace
hath
done
.
Linc.
And
I
my
liege
,
since
theres
no
remedie
.
King
Come
on
then
,
at
shake
hands
,
Ile
haue
you
frends
,
Where
there
is
much
loue
,
all
discord
ends
,
What
sayes
my
mad
Lord
Maior
to
all
this
loue
?
Eyre
O
my
liege
,
this
honour
you
haue
done
to
my
fine
iourneyman
here
,
Rowland
Lacie
,
and
all
these
fauours
which
you
have
showne
to
me
this
daye
in
my
poore
house
,
will
make
Simon
Eyre
liue
longer
by
one
dozen
of
warme
summers
more
then
he
should
.
King
Nay
,
my
mad
Lord
Maior
(
that
shall
be
thy
name
)
If
any
grace
of
mine
can
length
thy
life
,
One
honour
more
Ile
doe
thee
,
that
new
building
,
Which
at
thy
cost
in
Cornehill
is
erected
,
Shall
take
a
name
from
vs
,
wéele
haue
it
cald
,
The
Leaden
hall
,
because
in
digging
it
,
You
found
the
lead
that
couereth
the
same
.
Eyre
I
thanke
your
Maiestie
.
Wife
God
blesse
your
Grace
.
King
Lincolne
,
a
word
with
you
.
Enter
Hodge
,
Firke
,
Rafe
,
and
more
shoomakers
.
Eyre
How
now
my
mad
knaues
?
Peace
,
speake
softly
,
yonder
is
the
king
.
King
With
the
olde
troupe
which
there
we
kéepe
in
pay
,
We
wil
incorporate
a
new
supply
:
Before
one
summer
more
passe
ore
my
head
,
France
shal
repent
England
was
iniured
.
What
are
all
those
?
Hans
All
shoomakers
,
my
Liege
,
Sometimes
my
fellowes
,
in
their
companies
I
lived
as
merry
as
an
empror
.
King
My
mad
lord
Mayor
,
are
all
these
shoomakers
?
Eyre
All
Shooemakers
,
my
Liege
,
all
gentlemen
of
the
Gentle
Craft
,
true
Troians
,
couragious
Cordwainers
,
they
all
knéele
to
the
shrine
of
holy
saint
Hugh
.
All
.
God
saue
your
maiesty
all
shoomakers
King
Mad
Simon
,
would
they
any
thing
with
vs
?
Eyre
Mum
mad
knaues
,
not
a
word
,
Ile
doot
,
I
warrant
you
.
They
are
all
beggars
,
my
Liege
,
all
for
themselues
:
and
I
for
them
all
,
on
both
my
knées
do
intreate
,
that
for
the
honor
of
poore
Simon
Eyre
,
and
the
good
of
his
brethren
these
mad
knaues
,
your
Grace
would
vouchsafe
some
priuilege
to
my
new
Leden
hall
,
that
it
may
be
lawfull
for
vs
to
buy
and
sell
leather
there
two
dayes
a
wéeke
.
King
Mad
Sim
,
I
grant
your
suite
,
you
shall
haue
patent
To
hold
two
market
dayes
in
Leden
hall
,
Mondayes
and
Fridayes
,
those
shal
be
the
times
:
Will
this
content
you
?
All
.
Iesus
blesse
your
Grace
.
Eyre
In
the
name
of
these
my
poore
brethren
shoomakers
,
I
most
humbly
thanke
your
Grace
.
But
before
I
rise
,
séeing
you
are
in
the
Giuing
vaine
,
and
we
in
the
Begging
,
graunt
Sim
Eyre
one
boone
more
.
King
What
is
it
my
Lord
Maior
?
Eyre
Vouchsafe
to
taste
of
a
poore
banquet
that
standes
swéetely
waiting
for
your
sweete
presence
.
King
I
shall
vndo
thee
Eyre
,
only
with
feasts
,
Already
haue
I
béene
too
troublesome
,
Say
,
haue
I
not
?
Eyre
O
my
deere
king
,
Sim
Eyre
was
taken
vnawares
vpon
a
day
of
shrouing
which
I
promist
long
ago
to
the
prentises
of
London
:
for
andt
please
your
Highnes
,
in
time
past
I
bare
the
water
tankerd
,
and
my
coate
Sits
not
a
whit
the
worse
upon
my
backe
:
And
then
vpon
a
morning
some
mad
boyes
,
It
was
Shrouetuesday
éeune
as
tis
now
,
Gaue
me
my
breakefast
,
and
I
swore
then
by
the
stopple
of
my
tankerd
,
if
euer
I
came
to
be
Lord
Maior
of
London
,
I
would
feast
al
the
prentises
,
This
day
(
my
liege
)
I
did
it
,
and
the
slaues
had
an
hundred
tables
fiue
times
couered
,
they
are
gone
home
and
vanisht
:
yet
adde
more
honour
to
the
Gentle
Trade
,
taste
of
Eyres
banquet
,
Simon's
happie
made
.
King
Eyre
,
I
wil
taste
of
thy
banquet
,
and
wil
say
,
I
haue
not
met
more
pleasure
on
a
day
,
Friends
of
the
Gentle
Craft
,
thankes
to
you
al
,
Thankes
my
kind
Ladie
Mairesse
for
our
théere
,
Come
Lordes
,
a
white
lets
reuel
it
at
home
,
When
all
our
sports
,
and
banquetings
are
done
,
Warres
most
right
wrongs
which
frenchmen
haue
begun
.
Exeunt
.
FINIS
.