ACT IV
SCENE III. Another room in the same.
I am as well acquainted here as I was in our house of profession. One would think it were Mistress Overdone’s own house, for here be many of her old customers. First, here’s young Master Rash; he’s in for a commodity of brown paper and old ginger, nine score and seventeen pounds; of which he made five marks ready money. Marry, then ginger was not much in request, for the old women were all dead. Then is there here one Master Caper, at the suit of Master Three-pile the mercer, for some four suits of peach-coloured satin, which now peaches him a beggar. Then have we here young Dizie, and young Master Deep-vow, and Master Copperspur, and Master Starve-lackey, the rapier and dagger man, and young Drop-heir that killed lusty Pudding, and Master Forthright the tilter, and brave Master Shoe-tie the great traveller, and wild Half-can that stabbed Pots, and I think forty more, all great doers in our trade, and are now “for the Lord’s sake.”
Sirrah, bring Barnardine hither.
Master Barnardine! You must rise and be hanged, Master Barnardine.
What ho, Barnardine!
[Within.] A pox o’ your throats! Who makes that noise there? What are you?
Your friends, sir; the hangman. You must be so good, sir, to rise and be put to death.
[Within.] Away, you rogue, away; I am sleepy.
Tell him he must awake, and that quickly too.
Pray, Master Barnardine, awake till you are executed, and sleep afterwards.
Go in to him, and fetch him out.
He is coming, sir, he is coming. I hear his straw rustle.
Is the axe upon the block, sirrah?
Very ready, sir.
How now, Abhorson? What’s the news with you?
Truly, sir, I would desire you to clap into your prayers; for, look you, the warrant’s come.
You rogue, I have been drinking all night; I am not fitted for’t.
O, the better, sir; for he that drinks all night and is hanged betimes in the morning may sleep the sounder all the next day.
Look you, sir, here comes your ghostly father. Do we jest now, think you?
Sir, induced by my charity, and hearing how hastily you are to depart, I am come to advise you, comfort you, and pray with you.
Friar, not I. I have been drinking hard all night, and I will have more time to prepare me, or they shall beat out my brains with billets. I will not consent to die this day, that’s certain.
I swear I will not die today for any man’s persuasion.
But hear you—
Not a word. If you have anything to say to me, come to my ward, for thence will not I today.
Now, sir, how do you find the prisoner?
I am your free dependant.
Quick, dispatch, and send the head to Angelo.
Now will I write letters to Angelo, The Provost, he shall bear them, whose contents Shall witness to him I am near at home; And that by great injunctions I am bound To enter publicly. Him I’ll desire To meet me at the consecrated fount, A league below the city; and from thence, By cold gradation and well-balanced form. We shall proceed with Angelo.
Here is the head; I’ll carry it myself.
I’ll make all speed.
[Within.] Peace, ho, be here!
Ho, by your leave!
Good morning to you, fair and gracious daughter.
Nay, but it is not so.
O, I will to him and pluck out his eyes!
You shall not be admitted to his sight.
I am directed by you.
Good even. Friar, where is the Provost?
Not within, sir.
O pretty Isabella, I am pale at mine heart to see thine eyes so red. Thou must be patient. I am fain to dine and sup with water and bran. I dare not for my head fill my belly. One fruitful meal would set me to’t. But they say the Duke will be here tomorrow. By my troth, Isabel, I loved thy brother. If the old fantastical duke of dark corners had been at home, he had lived.
Sir, the Duke is marvellous little beholding to your reports; but the best is, he lives not in them.
Friar, thou knowest not the Duke so well as I do. He’s a better woodman than thou tak’st him for.
Well, you’ll answer this one day. Fare ye well.
Nay, tarry, I’ll go along with thee. I can tell thee pretty tales of the Duke.
You have told me too many of him already, sir, if they be true; if not true, none were enough.
I was once before him for getting a wench with child.
Did you such a thing?
Yes, marry, did I; but I was fain to forswear it. They would else have married me to the rotten medlar.
Sir, your company is fairer than honest. Rest you well.
By my troth, I’ll go with thee to the lane’s end. If bawdy talk offend you, we’ll have very little of it. Nay, friar, I am a kind of burr; I shall stick.