FRANK

Philip content, Coomes come hither sirrah, When our Father's partly, call us upon the green, Philip come, a rubber and so leave, Two or three Jades, or so. What do I? Well sir, what say you to Bowlers? Your reason sir? Their souls, how mean you? Lord how his wit holds bias Like a bowl. This next to you. Philip leave talking with this drunken fool, Say sirrah where's my father? Are they so? And wherefore came not you to call me then? Sirrah, be quiet, or I do protest. By heaven to crack your Crown, Wirl you not be quiet, will you urge me? And I can you rascal. Phi. Hold hair brain hold, Dost thou not see he's drunk? She's a whore then. Go to I am. What disposition? Why speaks he Proverbs? I Like this well, and one day I'll see him, But shall we partly? Come, come you shall not. Father, as matter that befits a friend, But yet not me, that am too young to marry. Near trust me Father, the shape of marriage, Which I do see in others, seem so severe, I dare not put my youngling liberty, Under the awe of that instruction, And yet I grant the limits of free youth Going astray, are often restrainde by that: But mistress wedlock, to my scholar thoughts, Will be too cursed I fear, Oh should she snip, My pleasure aiming mind, I shall be sad, And swear, when I did marry I was mad. Philip, what should I say? Oh but which rather? Thats I, then I, Oh should it fallen out ill. Then I, for I am guilty of that ill. I'll not be guilty, no. Philip, no whit backward, that is on. Oh stay. Heigh ho, I fear I shall repent, Well, which way Frank? Canst thou tell? And takest upon thee to be my guide to hell, But which way Father? Why is it not good to woo by candle light. And if you please I will supply the room. Stay mistress Barns, or mother, what you will, She's my wife, and here she shall be still. Mather not to day, Nor yet to morrow, till my lives last morrow, Make me leave that, which I with leave did borrow, Here I have borrowed love, isle not deny it, Thy wedding night's my day, then I'll repay it: Till then sheele trust me, wench is't not so? And if it be, say I, if nor, say no. Swones where? a plague upon it, I think the devil is set to cross this match. Love by my troth mother, Love, she loves me, And I love her, then we must needs agree. Then Mother, isle grafted a Pippin on a Crab. But I'll prove my skill. Mother's both I will. Mother's, with both hands, shove I hate from love, That Like and ill companion would infect, The infant mind of our offection, Within this cradle shall this minutes babe, Be laid to rest, and thus I'll huge my joy. Why how far have you traveled for it? Go to forward man. And why? Boy, you rascal. Enough, I will: mother you do me wrong, To be so peremptory in your command, And see that rascal to abuse me so. Peace, a pox on thee. A plague on Coomes, a plague upon the boy A plague too, not on my mother for and hundredth bound, It time to run, and yet I had not thought My mother could have followed me so close, Her legs with age I thought had foundered, She made me quite run through a quickset hedge, Or she had taken me: well I may say, I have run through the briers for a wench, And yet I have her not, the worse luck mine, Me thought I herd one hollow here about, I judge it Philip, Oh the slave will laugh When as he hears how that my mother scarde me, Well, here I'll stand until I hear him hollow, And then I'll answer him, he is not far. Sbloud you are very hight. Knave, how now Philip, art mad, art mad? Oh have I catched ye sir, it was your doing, That m de me have this pretty dance to night, Had not you spo ke, my mother had not scared me, But I will swinge you for it. Mother what say you? But if she now deny it, 'tis no defame. Why? it not, her spirit may he such, Well sini ston Why tell me, is't not good, that never played before upon your green. Let it not grieve thee man, come over to us, We will devise some game to make you win Your money back again sweet Philip. No faith my wag string here Did founder one the last time that he rid, The best grey Nag that ever I laid my leg over. Good sir the same. I was it sir. No, where had I one so good? One of your colour, I never remember him, one of that colour. Whats that you call complexion in a horse. Set me a colour on your jest, or I will: What, shall we have it? Well then, I can. and I shall find a pe sill for you sir. A whoreson barren wicked rchen. Go to, I'll anger you and if you do not. Villain, what do ye think? No Philip no. What, what sir? Will you not? Nay then, How meanest thou, is he drunk? Well go and call him, bid him bring me drink. My mother powers and will look merrily, Neither upon my father nor on me, He says she fell out with mistress Barns to day, Then I am sure they'll no: be quickly friends, Good Lord what kind of creatures women are? Their love is lightly won and lightly lost, And then their hate is deadly and extreme. He that does take a wife, betakes himself To all the cares and troubles of the world, Now her disquietness does grieve my father, Grieves me, and troubles all the house beside, What, shall I have so ne drink? how now a horn? Belike the drunken slave is fallen a sleep, And now the boy does wake him with his horn, How now sirrah, where the butler? How loathsome is this beast men shape to me? This mould of reason so unreasonable, Sirrah, why dost thou trip him down seeing he's drunk? How mean you? Go to help him up, but hark who knocks? Go call him in. Look you sirrah, where your fellow lies, He's in a fine taking, is he not? I once to day you were almost so sir, Peace sir, I must with one, Nicholas I think your name is, Well, how does my master? Where is the letter he hath sent me? 'Tis right as Philip said, 'tis a fine fool, This letter is directed to my father. I'll carry it to him, Dick Coomes make him drink. I, you know, You found the way to sorrow long ago, Father God boy you, you have sent your son, To seek on earth and earthly day of doom, Where I shall be judged, alack the ruth, To pe nance for the follies of my youth. Well I must go, but by my troth my mind, Is not love capable to that kind, Oh I have looked upon this mould of men, As I have done upon a Lyons den, Praised I have the gallant beast I saw, Yet wished me no acquaintance with his paw, And must I now be grated with them, well, Yet I may hap to prove a Daniel, And if I do sure it would make me laugh, To be among wild beasts and yet be safe, Is there a remedy to abate their rage, Yes many catch them, and put them in a cage, I but how catch them, marry in your hand, Carry me forth a burning firebrand, For with his sparkling shine, old rumor says, A firebrand the swiftest runner frays, This I may do, but if it prove not so, Then man goes out to seek his adjunct woe, Philip away, and Father now adieu, In quest of sorrow I am sent by you. Seldom in this world, such a work is done. The better candles out, and curtans spread No, to study how to woe thy sister. Some Aquavitae reason to recover, This sick dis ourser, sooned not prithee Philip, Tush, tush, I do not think her as thou sayest, Perhaps she's opinions darling Philip: Wise in repute, the crows bird oh my friend, Some judgements slave themselves to small desert, And wondernize the birth of common wit, When their won strangeness do but make that strange, And their ill errors do but make that good, And why should men debase to make that good, Perhaps such admiration wins her wit. Philip be these your usual best salutes? Dove, one of those that draw the Queen of love? How means your holy judgement? Up you would say. Not cart her, but couch her in your eye, And a fit place for gentle love to lie. Nay, that were but small manners, and not fit, His duty is before you bore to S and, Having a lusty whipstock in his hand. Yes I can well direct the coache of love. Yes, or a fair built steeple without bells, I, or a well made ship without a mast. Why then you are a boat without and oar, Your fair self must be my fairest pay. Why take your first man wench, and go no further. And let me see a woman of that tal esse, So slender and of such a middle smallness, So old enough, and in each partly so fit, So fair, so kind, eudued with so much wit, Of so much wit as it is held a wonder, It pity to keep love and her a sunder, Therefore go up my joy, call down my bli e, Bid her come seal the bargain with a kiss. Now in good faith Philip this makes me smile. That I have wooed and won in so small while. I guess at thy intent, Thou shalt not miss a minute of thy time. God a mercy Phil, but mother hear me. How then? Must I? how if I will not. Mother standby, I'll teach that rascal, Will you so sir? Well sir, well. Why Mal. I prithee speak, why Mal I say? I know thou art not far, if thou wilt not speak, why mal, But now I see she's in her merry vain, To make me call and put me to more pain, Well, I must bea with her, sheel bear with me, But I will call, least that it be not so, What Mall? what Mall I say, boy are we right? Have we not missed the way this same dark night? It may be so, then therefore lets lie close. I pray God you may not mother till it be day. A man, but whats thy name? There calls my man. So ho, where art thou Philip, Why studiest thou? I prithee tell me Philip. Where the wench is. Swounds what a pussell am I in this night, But yet I'll put this fellow farther, Dost thou hear man? I am not sir R ph Smith. As thou dost think I am, but I did meet him, Even as thou sayest in pursuit of a wench. I met the wench to, and asked for thee, Saying it thou that Wertenberg her love, her deer, And that sir Ralph was not and honest Knight, To train her thither, and to use her so. Nay 'tis , look to it, and so farewell. Why man I saw her not, but I have sought her as I should seek. Whither I could or no, father I did. Good Lord what you would do, Well we shall see one day how you can woe. Yes if my Mall were here, then all were well. What game? Why what a swearing keeps this drunken ass, Canst thou not say but swear at every word? Sownes man. I am very worser y with walking over the green, But lersome Beer, sirrah call the Butler. A plague on the boy, it he that descried me. So ho. Father, but hear me speak, the use yourwill. Whats this, so late a wenching does he say? Indeed 'tis true, I am thus late a wenching, But I am forcest to wench without a wench. How? art thou become a Constable? Why Philip where hast thou been all this while?