LACY

All well prepared, The men of Hartfordshire lie at Mile end, Suffolk, and Essex, train in Tuttle fields, The Londoners, and those of Middlesex, All gallantly prepared in Finsbury, With frolic spirits, long for their parting hour. I thank your honour. My Lord, I will (for honour (not desire Of land or livings) or to be your heir) So guide my actions in pursuit of France, As shall add glory to the Lacies name. True coze, but I'll overreach his policies, I have some serious business for three days, Which nothing but my presence can dispatch, You therefore cousin with the companies Shall hasse to Dover, there I'll meet with you, Or if I stay passed my prefixed time, Away for France, weel meet in Normandy, The twenty pounds my Lord Mayor gives to me You shall receive, and these ten portugues, Partly of mine uncle's thirty, gentle coze, Have care to our great charge, I know your wisdom Hath tried it self in higher consequence. Stay cousin, who be these? Truly my friends, it lies not in my power, The Londoners are pressed, paid, and set forth By the Lord Mayor, I cannot change a man. Is thy name Ralph? Give me thy hand, Thou shalt not want, as I am a gentleman: Woman, be patient, God (no doubt) will send Thy husband safe again, but he must go, His countries quarrel says, it shall be so. Eoeden dach meester, end v uro oak. Yaw yaw, Ik been den skomawker. Yaw yaw be niet warrant veard, Ik hab all de dingen, voour mack shoes groot and clean. Ik weet niet what you seg ich vestaw you niet. Yaw, yaw, yaw, ick can that well done. Mine liever brother Firk, bringt meester Eyre lot den sign un swannekin, daer sal you find dis skipper end me, what seggen you brother Firk? doot it Hodge, come skip per. exeunt. Dodger run you before, tell them we come, This Dodger is mine uncle's parasite, The arrantest varlet that e re breathed on earth, He sets more discord in a noble house, By one days broaching of his pickethanke fales, Then can be salved again in twenty years, And he (I fear) shall go with us to France, To pry into our actions. Fear not good cousin: Ralph, High to your colours. How many shapes have gods and kings devised, Thereby to compass their desired loves? It is no shame for Roland Lacy then, To cloth his cunning with the Gentle Craft, That thus disguised, I may unknown possess, The only happy presence of my Rose: For her have I forsook my charge in France, Incurd the Kings displeasure, and stirred up Rough hatred in mine uncle Lincoln's breast: Oh love, how powerful art thou, that canst change High birth to bareness, and a noble mind, To the mean semblance of a shoemaker? But thus it must be: for her cruel father, Hating the single union of our souls, Hath secretly conveyed my Rose from London, To bar me of her presence, but I trust Fortune and this disguise will further me Once more to view her beauty, gain her sighed. Here in Towerstréete, with Air the shoemaker, Mean I a while to work, I know the trade, I learnt it when I was in Wittenberg: Then cheer thy hoping sprites, be not dismayed, Thou canst not want, do fortune what she can, The Gentle Craft is living for a man. exit. Der was een boar van Gelderland, Frolic u ̄ byen, He was also dronck he cold nyet stand, vpsolce see byen, Tap eens de canneken drink scheue mannekin. Hans, Hans, Meulter. Oich wersto, you Ich moet een halve dossen Cans betaelen: here boy nempt dis skilling, tap eens fréelicke. Godden day mester, dis be de skipper that heb de skip van merchandise de commodity been good, nempt it ma ster, nempt it. Me tank you uro. Yaw it sal uro. Ick been vrolicke, lot see you So. You be welcome brother. Yaw it sal uro. Yaw, my mester is de groot man, de shrieve. See mine liever brother, here count my meester. It be dank good frister. Forward Firk, tow best un jolly youngster hort I me ster it bid the cut me un pair vam ̄ pres warrant mester ieffres boots. Yaw, yaw, ic shall meet the gane. How happy am I by embracing Thee, O I did fear such cross mishaps did reign, That I should never see my Rose again. O how I surfeit with excess of joy, Made happy by thy rich perfection, But since thou payest sweet interest to my Hope's, Redoubling love on love, let me once more, Like to a bold faced debtor crave of Thee, This night to steal abroad, and at Eyres house, Who now by death of certain Aldermen, Is Mayor of London, and my master once, Meet thou thy Lacy where in spite of change, Your father's anger, and mine uncle's hate, Our happy nuptials will me consummate. Forware metresse, 'tis un good skow, it sal vel dute, or you sal neit betallen. Your father's presence pincheth, not the shoo. Yaw, yaw, ick weit that well, for beware 'tis un good shoo, 'tis gi mait van neits leither, see ener mine here. Mine uncle come, o what may this portend? Sweet Rose, this of our love threatens and end. Oh that I durst but speak unto my love! Yaw mester. Your father come, sweet Rose, what shall I do? Where shall I hide me? how shall I escape? Mass, and thats well remembered. This is the morning that must make us two hap py, or miserable, therefore if you My Lord, 'tis time for us to partly from hence. Let me request you to remember me, I know your honour easily may obtain, Free pardon of the king for me and Rose, And reconcile me to my uncle's grace. Not for all Indians wealth, my sovereign. I am, dread Sovereign. All shoemakers, my Liege, Sometime my fellows, in their companies I siude as merry as and empror. Come my sweet Rose, faster than Dear weel run.