A Select Collection of Old English Plays, Volume 08
General
A Select Collection of Old English Plays, Volume 08
English drama
MUCH. Nay, I know that; but we miller's children love the cog a little,
and the fair speaking.
ROB. H. And is it possible that Warman's spite
Should stretch so far, that he doth hunt the lives
Of bonny Scarlet and his brother Scathlock.
MUCH. O, ay, sir: Warman came but yesterday to take charge of the jail
at Nottingham, and this day he says he will hang the two outlaws. He
means to set them at liberty!
MAT. Such liberty God send the peevish wretch,
In his most need.
ROB. H. Now, by my honour's hope,
Yet buried in the low dust of disgrace,
He is to blame. Say, John, where must they die?
LIT. JOHN. Yonder's their mother's house, and here the tree
Whereon, poor men, they must forego their lives:
And yonder comes a lazy losel friar,
That is appointed for their confessor;
Who, when we brought your money to their mothers,
Was wishing her to patience for their deaths.
_Enter_ FRIAR TUCK _and_ RALPH, _Warman's man_.
RAL. I am timorous, sir, that the prigioners are passed from the jail.
FRIAR. Soft, sirrah! by my order I protest
Ye are too forward: 'tis no game, no jest,
We go about.
ROB. H. Matilda, walk afore
To Widow Scarlet's house; look, where it stands.
Much, man your lady: Little John and I
Will come unto you thither presently.
MUCH. Come, madam; my lord has 'pointed the properer man to go before ye.
MAT. Be careful, Robin, in this time of fear.
[_Exeunt_ MUCH, MATILDA.
FRIAR. Now, by the relics of the holy mass,
A pretty girl, a very bonny lass.
ROB. H. Friar, how like you her?
FRIAR. Marry, by my hood,
I like her well, and wish her nought but good.
RAL. Ye protract, Master Friar. I obsecrate ye with all courtesy,
omitting compliment, you would vouch or deign to proceed.
FRIAR, Deign, vouch, protract, compliment, obsecrate?
Why, goodman Tricks, who taught you thus to prate?
Your name, your name? Were you never christen'd?
RAL. My nomination Radulph is, or Ralph: Vulgars corruptly use to call
me Rafe.
FRIAR. O foul corruption of base palliardize,[187]
When idiots, witless, travail to be wise.
Age barbarous, times impious, men vicious!
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account