SIR RALPH

Come on my hearts, I faith it is ill luck, To hunt all day and not kill any thing, What sayest thou Lady, art thou weary yet? I faith country fare, mutton and Veil, Perchance a Duck or Goose. Although thou art. Good faith it very hard. Yes venison Lady. But they are killed for sport. 'Tis fine to see the run. They might make then less hast & keep their wind. Well, they have made us but bade sport to day. Lady no more, I do not Like this luck, To hunt all day and yet not kill a Buck, Well, it is late, but yet I swear I will Stay here all night, but I a Buck will kill. Content you Lady, Will, go fetch my bow, A berry of fair Roes I saw to day, Down by the groves, and there isle take my stand, And shoot at one, God send a lucky hand. No, but my men shall bear thee company. Sirs man her home, Will bid the Huntmen couple, And bid them well reward their hounds to night. Lady farewell, Will hast you with the Bow, I'll stay for thee here by the grove below. Why hollo to me, and I will answer thee. my man is hollowing for me up and down, And yet I cannot meet with him, so ho: Why what a pox Wertenberg thou so near me man, And would not speak? Why art not thou my man. That went to fetch my bow, What art thou then? Well said familiar Will, plain Ralph I faith, But there goes mine away. And yet I'll hear what this next call will say, And here I'll tarry till he call again. No heres no Francis, art thou Will my man? Are you a maid? no question this is she, My man does miss, faith since she lights on me, I do not mean till day to let her go, For what she is my men love I will know, Hark you maid, if maid, are you so light, That you can see to wander in the night. Fair maid is't so, say had you never a fallen, Could you not stumble on one man I pray? Am I that block sweet tripe, then fallen and try. Why how and you had met with such a stump? Are you so nimble? Backed in a pie. Good meat you know. I do. Dear. Yes when you art there. Yes, will you strike again? I wonder wench, how I thy name might know. Be my Schoolmistress, teach me how to spell it. How wench, Mall Barns? Alas good heart, I pity thy hard hap, And I'll employ all that I may for thee, Frank Goursey wench, I do commend thy choice, Now I remember I met one Francis As I did seek my man, then that was he, And Philip too, Like that was thy brother, why now I find how I did lose my self, And wander up & down, mi staking so, Give me thy hand Mall, I will never leave. Till I have made your mother's friends again, And purchased to you both your hearts delight, And for this same one bade, many a good night, 'Twill not be long ere that Aurora will. Decked in the glory oh a goldon sun, Open the crystal windows of the East, To make the earth enamourde of thy face, When we shall have clear light to see our way, Come, night being done, expect a happy day. Then it as good for them at first to stay, As to run long and run their lives away. Some call me Ralph. Sownes now I here four hollow at the least, One had a little voice, then thats the wench My man hath lost, well I will answer all, so ho. Why this is strange. F e mistress Barns and mistress Goursey both, The greatest sin wherein your souls may sin, I think is this, in crossing of true love, Let me persuade ye. Farewell. So ho, Nay sir I mooude but such a question to you, Had it hath not disparegd you I hope, It but mistaking, such a night as this May well deceive a man, God boy sir. So ho. Whose there? Is Will there? No, no. Was ever man deluded thus Like me, I think some spirit leads me thus amiss: As I have oft ̄ herd, that some have been thus in the nights. But yet this mazes me where ere I come, Some asks me still for Frank or Philip, And none of them can tell me where Will is. Whose there will? Heigh day, from Frank and Philip to a Torch, And to a Boy, nay sownes then hap as 'twill. Why sir Ralph Smith does wonder wench at this Why whats the cause thou art abroad so late? Yonder they be Mall, stay, stand close and stir not Until I call: God save ye Gentlemen. Why sir, how herd ye that I was abroad? My man, where is he? Oh ye are a trusty squire. And I by you, which now I well perceive, But tell me Gentlemen, what made ye all, Be from your beds this night, and why thus late Are your wives walking here about the fields? 'Tis strange to see such women of account, Here, but I ges e some great occasion, I do rejoice, that what I thought to do, Ere I begin, I find already done, Why this will please your friends at Abington, Frank, if thou seekest that way, there thou shalt find Her, whom I hold the comfort of thy mind. Well Gentlemen, good hap betide them both, Since it my hap thus hap thus happily to meet, To be a witness of this sweet contract, I do rejoice, wherefore to have this joy Longer present with me, I do request That all of you will be my promised guests, This long nights labour doth desire some rest, Beside this wished end, therefore I pray, Let me detain ye but a dinner time, Tell me I pray, shall I obtain so much. No sir, I am cold enough with staying here For such a knave as you. Oh when will this same year of night have end? Long looked for days sun, when wilt thou ascend? Let not this These friend misty vale of night, Encroach on day, and shadow thy fair light, While thou comest tardy from my Thetes bed, Blushing forth golden hair and glorious read, Oh stay not lo g bright lanthorn of the day, To light my missed way feet to my right way?