C. CUSTANCE. I would see that fain. SIM. SURE. As fast as wind and sail can carry it a-main. But what two men are yond coming hitherwards? C. CUSTANCE. Now I shrew their best Christmas cheeks both togetherward. ACTUS IV., SCÆNA 3. CHRISTIAN CUSTANCE, SIM. SURESBY, RALPH ROISTER, MATTHEW MERRYGREEK, TRUEPENNY. C. CUSTANCE. What mean these lewd fellows thus to trouble me still? Sim. Suresby here, perchance, shall thereof deem some ill, And shall suspect in me some point of naughtiness, And they come hitherward. [_Aside._ SIM. SURE. What is their business? C. CUSTANCE. I have nought to them, nor they to me, in sadness.[139] SIM. SURE. Let us hearken them; somewhat there is, I fear it. R. ROISTER. I will speak out aloud best, that she may hear it. M. MERRY. Nay, alas! ye may so fear her out of her wit. R. ROISTER. By the cross of my sword, I will hurt her no whit. M. MERRY. Will ye do no harm indeed? Shall I trust your word? R. ROISTER. By Roister Doister's faith, I will speak but in bord.[140] SIM. SURE. Let us hearken them: somewhat there is, I fear it. R. ROISTER. I will speak out aloud, I care not who hear it.-- Sirs, see that my harness, my target and my shield Be made as bright now, as when I was last in field: As white, as I should to war again to-morrow; For sick shall I be, but I work some folk sorrow. Therefore see that all shine as bright as Saint George, Or as doth a key, newly come from the smith's forge. I would have my sword and harness to shine so bright, That I might therewith dim mine enemies' sight: I would have it cast beams as fast, I tell you plain, As doth the glitt'ring grass after a shower of rain. And see that, in case I should need to come to arming, All things may be ready at a minute's warning. For such chance may chance in an hour: do ye hear? M. MERRY. As perchance shall not chance again in seven year. R. ROISTER. Now, draw ye near to her, and hear what shall be said. M. MERRY. But I would not have you make her too much afraid. R. ROISTER. Well found, sweet wife, (I trust) for all this your sour look. C. CUSTANCE. Wife! Why call ye me wife? SIM. SURE (_aside_). Wife! This gear goeth a-crook. M. MERRY. Nay, Mistress Custance, I warrant you our letter Is not as we read e'en now, but much better; And where ye half stomached[141] this gentleman afore For this same letter, ye will love him now therefore; Nor it is not this letter, though ye were a queen, That should break marriage between you twain, I ween. C. CUSTANCE. I did not refuse him for the letter's sake. R. ROISTER. Then ye are content me for your husband to take. C. CUSTANCE. You for my husband to take! Nothing less truly? R. ROISTER. Yea, say so, sweet spouse, afore strangers hardily.