A Select Collection of Old English Plays, Volume 11
General
A Select Collection of Old English Plays, Volume 11
English drama
SPEND. Why, villain, I shall have the worst, I know it,
And am prepar'd to suffer like a stoic;
Or else (to speak more properly) like a stock;
For I have no sense left. Dost thou think I have?
FOX. Zounds, I think he's mad.
SPEND. Why, thou art in the right; for I am mad, indeed,
And have been mad these two years. Dost thou think
I could have spent so much as I have done
In wares and credit, had I not been mad?
Why, thou must know, I had a fair estate
Which, through my riot, I have torn in pieces,
And scatter'd amongst bawds, buffoons, and whores,
That fawn'd on me, and by their flatteries
Rock'd all my understanding faculties
Into a pleasant slumber; where I dreamt
Of nought but joy and pleasure: never felt
How I was lull'd in sensuality,
Until at last affliction waked me,
And, lighting up the taper of my soul,
Led me unto myself, where I might see
A mind and body rent with misery. [_A prisoner within._
PRIS. Harry Fox! Harry Fox!
FOX. Who calls?
_Enter_ PRISONER.
PRIS. Here's the bread-and-meat-man come.
FOX. Well, the bread-and-meat-man may stay a little.
PRIS. Yes, indeed, Harry, the bread-and-meat-man may stay; but you know
our stomachs cannot stay.
_Enter_ GATHERSCRAP _with the basket_.
FOX. Indeed your stomach is always first up.
PRIS. And therefore by right should be first served: I have a stomach
like _aqua fortis_, it will eat anything; O father Gatherscrap, here are
excellent bits in the basket.
FOX. Will you hold your chaps farther? By and by, you'll drivel into the
basket.
PRIS. Perhaps it may do some good; for there may be a piece of powdered
beef that wants watering.
FOX. Here, sir, here's your share.
PRIS. Here's a bit indeed: what's this to a Gargantua stomach?
FOX. Thou art ever grumbling.
PRIS. Zounds! it would make a dog grumble to want his victuals: I pray,
give Spendall none; he came into the hole but yesternight.
FOX. What, do you refuse it?
SPEND. I cannot eat, I thank you.
PRIS. No, no, give it me, he's not yet seasoned for our company.
FOX. Divide it then amongst you.
[_Exit_ FOX _and_ PRISONER.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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