SIMPLE

Thump, I have not yet the face to speak to her, but It's no matter, and I can get her father's and mother's good will. I, I, she's a Matron as they say, I came over her with My Knighthood, and begotten a consent upon her quickly: I Perceive it's and advantage for a man to wear spurs, The rowell of Knighthood does jingle in the ear of their Understanding. So do I too, but I cannot help it: I was a Gentleman Thou knowest but tother day. I have yet but a few Compliments, within a while I shall get more impudence And then have at her. Pray heaven you may besav'd, Sir. I am come Sir to do my business. You may imagine as they say, and so forth your Daughter is a very fine Gentlewoman, and may in endue time be a Lady, For I do love her by this Mullet, there's a touch of my Heraldry. Nay, I n'er spoke to her in my life, nor do not mean in hast. Not in hast Sir, 'twere no good manners to speak hastily to a Gentlewoman, to talk post (as they say) to his Mistress; I am resolved to have your consent first, and then. I think so, some wiser than some, faith how do y'like my face. O, ho, I took my choice of forty, this morning. My man knows I broke a Looking glass into for ty pieces, I am sure, and this was the best face I could find among They all, look in my forehead, hast any skill in Palmistry? But this is nothing to the purpose (as they say,) Where is my beautiful Mistress, your Daughter? No matter which. O, it's well, I will not speak with her, I told you Before, but I hope I shall have your good Will. My Chaplain shall. It's wisdom, I can tarry, it's fit I should, commend Me to the Virgin. Yes faith, I love to be going, I cannot abide to stand Still, Thump, take off my cloak; does my Rapier become Me? This it's to be a complete Gentleman, what a cox comb was I before I came to town, the country breeds so many Clowns; dost think my tenants will know me now I am disguised She does commend me; do not put on my cloak yet, let her survey my person. Now I'll take my leave. No, I think it not the best way to speak to her, as I said, In hast, what if I had and inventory of my good parts First drawn to prepare her. Well, if she understand signs, have at her. You shall pardon me for that, I know My distance. Thump, she looks upon me, to say truth, I am but a bashful puppy. I, I know I am and old dog at her mother, but and I should be hanged, I have not impudence enough to speak to her: does not that Gentleman laugh at me? It's very suspicious, would I had a good jest to get of withal. You may salute me at your pleasures, but you are mistaken, I am no more venerable than your self; my name is Sir Gervace Simple. There's a fine oath! I have been taken for they a hundred times. That King was a poor kinsman of mine, and indeed We had one complexion. Sir, I am sorry, I cannot stay wi'y, but pray if you meet any of the nine Worthies, or my Cousin Pluto, come mend me to they, I shall be glad to meet you, or them, at a nigh Tavern, between Cheap and Charingcrosse, and so I re main yours, or not his own, sau's compliment. Now my foot's in. I, I, I could kiss her all over, and embrace her too, but I have and imperfediment, I cannot speak as I would do; but let me alone a little, I'll try, let me see, and I hanot forgotten my verses. Now Thump, I am resolved to speak to her, whatsoever Come on't; hum, hum. Enter Mr. Goldsworth. You shall see, if I do not speak to her, now Now, and to the purpose, in spite of the devil. Would somebody loved me, but as well, as I loved Somebody. La you there, I think I talked to her. Was I so? well mark me now, now, I will wink As hard as I can, and then I'm sure she cannot put me out. Beauty— Let me but kiss thy hand, and tell How much I love thee; I know very well Thou art a Phoenix, beauteous and bright, And dost burn every man for thy delight Thy eyes are Sun and Moon, not to be matched. Thy hair is fine as gold, thy chin is hatched With silver, needs must brazen be my face, That cannot come into thee with a grace. Sweet, hear me out. But this I know, I am thy faithful Lover, O quench my fire. You're in the right: Accept me for thy servant, not thy foe, For I do love thee better than any man in the whole world can do. With all my heart. Gentlemen, rest you merry; Thump, By this hand I'll be drunk presently. TH'art a brave Wench. I think so, gramercy Sack: Come kiss me, wilt thou be a Lady? I'll buy thee a Parrat to morrow, and a Monkey: Here, take this Ring. And I'll tell thee mine, that's one for another. Be as brief as you please, I can be as brief as you, and tedious too: I know thou love me: Sirrah, didst think I was such a fearful coxcomb as I made my self? No, I know when to be Lion, and when to be a Hare. But prithee tell me plainly, when shall we matrimony it, would? thou dotest upon my good parts; come, speak to me, pre thee be not bashful. Speak no language, and I warrant, I know Greek and Latin, I learned my Accidence. You do not love me, Sir: then I have lost my labour, Sir Thou shalt have smock embroideries; nay, thy we ry skin shall be embroidered. This satisfy? why this is even as good nothing. Though you cannot love me, It shall be for your honour to marry me. What, not marry me neither? Then be no Lady, that I first pronounce: Secondly know, I am resolved, your Mother Shall understand it, by these Hilts. Here she comes. O ho! is't come about again? O I, and Madgehowlets that can speak all languages I'm glad she is not gone yet. These are tricks, demurs, your daughter is not sober. She does but mock— This is very fine i'faith, if I do not study some mischief. Simple me no more than I simple thee. Sir, if you will not affect this Lady, I hope some other may. Please you Madam, Do me the grace to let me wait upon you. Shalt go, And hear how I will talk, and baffle they: But what if we meet Caperwit ? No: w'y then let him go hang himself in his own verses, if the lines be strong enough, come my Nightingale, my Bird of Paradise. Exit. By your leave Gentlewomen, I should mock you To call you Ladies; perhaps you may wonder at me. Have you no eyes? O eyes no eyes but Mountains fraught with tears! Yes, and to whom I speak I hope. Scorn you, no; but I do not care a rush for you, you might have had me when I was offered, 'tis none of my fault, and you do fallen to eating of chalk, and die oth' black jaun dise, I cannot help it now for I proclaim, here is the what do you call it, of my heart. Nay 'tis no matter, I have took my course, yet I Have a suit to you that you would not break your heart, Nor you, to see us kiss. Nectar! immortal nectar! He kiss ses Bird. O let this Diamond purchase such another, 'Tis pity that my lips should ever open, To let the breath she gave me, out again. I never offer less to touch her lip; marry her hand, or her a—or foot or so, I may salute for a ruby, or and emrode or a satire; or so, but I have stones—now do thou speak a little for their further mortification. Nay you may swear that, the wisest in the country, thought my mother a Witch. All thine own; somebody else might have been wise and had'em. No, but I came to bid you all to my wedding, I have Bespoke Gloves, and Points, and knacks, and knaveries. Will you so Sir? Do you hear Sir, you may take her if you please, but if she be troubled with a timpany, there is a man within a mile of and Oak, I name nobody, that has had,— some earnest of her body. I'll make all sure; what a loving Lady is this? Why that's mine, I gave it her but now before all this company. Let him have it there be more in Cheapeside, but let's not tarry any longer Bird, he'll challenge all the rest of thy feathers. Farewell beauty's and kind Gentleman, if you come to my wedding, I name no time, nor place, we'll be very merry, ex cellent cheer I'll promise you, your belly full of Fiddlers. Gentlemen, all is not yet discovered; there are a pair behind, worth taking notice of; do y know Sir Gervace Simple, I am the man. And this is my Lady—what does thy hair come off already. A boy? Gentlemen, have I married a boy, or is she metamorphis'd? Bird? they make a coxcomb of me. Bawdy quoth a Thump, I will fell thee my Knight hood for half the money it cost me, and turn Yeoman in the Country again; why there is neither wit nor honesty in this. I, and then we may steal away disguised, a match! Go by, Ieronymo, go by, go by. He passes by them with disdain.