STIPES

Heigh hoe — It's a fine morning this as I have seen, And a most early Spring — but daughter Merda, Why Merda I say, why daughter Merda, what, Have not the Fleas yet made a breakfast of you? You'll rise? or do you mean that Mistress Vrsely Shall take you in your bed? shee'l not be long Ere she be here — O me! she's here already. M rs . Vrsely enters. Why Merda, Merda I say, go to, I, I by Lady. O sweet Mistress Vrsely, o that I were a young Scholar now for your sake; would, this is she that The beggars fight for: come on in faith young Mistress, Which of all the blackcoates do you love best? Where is your answer, and your curtsy Maiden? If it please you forsooth, say. Say? thou filthy harlotry, thou; O here's a Girl brought up most daintily; Well was it not for shame I'de take you up— He offers. Thank your young Mistress; young Mistress I Do thank you say. Again? but o the diggers! What do I see? My Sheep have quite disgrest Their bounds, and leapt into the several. Whu, whu, why Scab, the last, the last, there scab It's the best Cur That ever mumbled crust. How daintily he catched that Sherehogge! there, So, so, au, au: why so; haup, haup, you rogue But I will follow him. Why quickly Merda, bring me a chair out quickly.— Oh Oh you villain.—Why when?—So, so, go to, go to, Tarry you still my daughter, That you may hear some of your Father's wisdom.— Come on you Crack-rope, what is your business, pray you, To lurk thus in my Master's grounds? you are A scout? one that discovers are you not? Oh you're a stubborn gallows, you will answer? Heigh! And ill year on you, you great Maukin you, Making of Puppets? one of your age and breeding? You have and Husband Minion? you a rod. — But to return again unto the purpose, Where dwell you sirrah? will you not answer me? Come on your ways, I'll have you to my Master.— Then quickly Sirrah. What's that you mutter on? you have a trick To say your prayers backwards? have you not? Salve Domine. But why put you your Fickle Into my Harvest thus? go to, go to, You're troublesome— well Sirrah. Very good. And do you know his friends and kindred then? Are you in earnest or in jest? No more, Peace, so he shall. What is he gone? — hi-day! what again? Let me be hanged, my dog and my whole Family, My Wife and all, I'll put her in, if I Do not so 'flict your buttocks Minion; I'll break you of this trade of making children Before your time, if I can find a willow Within a mile of and Oak. Exit Oh lazy varlets! is this a time to dance? you idle persons; What will you leave I say? look here I pray; doe's this same spectacle agree with turning on the toe, or capering? go to, go to, fie, fie, ah my sweet lambs, I dare be sworn for you, ye think no body hurt at this instant. Come hither you my nim ble skipper, upsolue me this question, what's your opinion must be done with these? Good Mr. Ieoffry. I, I, by Lady? how now? God-save I think forty Obrums have been here, (Master Ieoffry is that Obrum that makes gentlefolks, a Taylor?) one Obrum could never have painted them thus. Merda, will you come? or do you long until I fetch you out — At length forsooth: are Enter Merda. You not ashamed of this you great Maukin you? You great Rigs-norton you, do you stand still He strikes her. And see your only Father wronged thus? would? — Well, if I do not fit your cap for this (If it be made of wool) when you tithe Lambs, I'll never go to Church more, if whole flock Has any worse then other t'shall go hard But some of them shall fallen unto your lot. Boy will you dwell with me? Thou shalt have dumpling Boy, enough, and Bacon Shall be so deep in fat, that thou mayest wade Up to the chin in lard: Salute your Master. In as a good a headpiece as yours, I warrant you that, for all your fine clothes, Sands, I think my penny as good silver as yours, every day i'th week, I'll tell you but so. A Maid of eighteen, to play with babes-clouts, well, it's no matter, Let that pass though, go to, go to, it's and ill wind that blows no body good, cry I, sure rose o'th right side to day, I shall have a servant by and by, and a lusty Knave too, and here's the chincke, the chincke; as I was getting this rod even now, for my wise daughter, comes me Terpanders son, the angry boy, the smoaker of Tobacco, the whoreson which could not endure his more there, S nds I was afraid at first to see my self alone with him, he did so stare with'is rolling eyes, and 'twas no force by Lady, for I had five good shillings in my purse; But he to put me out of doubt salutes me most lovingly, as thus, Stipes God save you, Save you Stipes — no, Stipes God save you — Stipes be hanged — a blockhead, Sd nds J doubt I should make but a scurvy Gentleman, I want the trick ont.— But let that pass though, I have the more nigh here, and presently, my man will come, which Anteros will send me, whom, if I have not paid me every morning my forty brace of legs and caps —no more. How now? He whistles and dances: What jolly whistler have we God here trow? Him, him, a dancer too? I, I, by Lady For ought I know, this is the man I spoke of, Or else if not, here's one could wish he were. A sturdy knave, a lusty proper knave. I Like him well, he ha a back for burdens. You Sirrah, you; I say whom do you seek here you? I am a Shepherd. I am the man you knave, you come from Anteros? To serve me? In good time, how now saucy Jack? how now proud, prodigal knave? where are your twenty legs unto your Master? Go to, Go to, to work, begin, well said. Anteros makes legs. 1.2.3.4 5 6. So, so, enough, I do forgive the rest. Turn you about, um, um, a good squat fellow, a well quartered man, By Lady, and if he had but moans would make a pretty husband for my daughter Merda. Why Merda, I say, my daughter Merda I say, the foolish girl's afraid I know, go to, go to, I will forgive her. Merda I say. But you Sir Squire'oth' dog, what is your name? High, which way look you? I, I, how now? how Ieoffry? a hard name by Lady. why when? Ho, ho, oho, ho a great lob, stand up. I do forgive you, but on this condition, that for your penance you shall wear this rod, stuck at your back till night. So: how dost thou Like my man Chuckin? go to, look on him well. Whither now you great baggage? You'll come again? But stay am not I and old fool? and old dotardly fool, that have not inquired what my man can do yet? Ieoffry. — Peace and catch a mouse. No more. Ieoffry, how now you sloutch? how do you stand? Come hither, go to, go to, did you ever wear a cloak in your life? answer me roundly. Ah beggars brat! how now? but I must have you learn, that you may man your young Mistress there sometime. Come on let me see how finely you can do the feat, walk be before her, follow him daughter. [He walks, Merda stays behind, tying her shoe.] You great lobcock you. [He beats him.] I'll teach you to look behind you, to see whither your charge follows, or no, what? would you be gadding without your charge? Do you prate too? look you here, mark but me, I have seen the day, when I could have stinged it before my sweet heart.— short and thick citizen Like, you mankin, what? two acres breadth at a stride? I, I by Lady; I'll cut you short in smock-timber, for this minion; is your smock so wide, with a murren to you? short and thick citizen Like: how now? High, for your town say you? you are a company of lazy, lubberly knaves, there's the short and the long on't, ho, ho, boys, ho, ho boys? what drabs too? girls too? doxyes too? ye are a company of slowbackly Queans, there's sauce for your eels. ou dance with them? you are a great princockly pup lady; there's mustard for your biefe too, since you will needs have it; is nds I have been a wit in my days, there's some relics left yet, go to, go to. Dance with you? pray you vpsolue me this question, what holy day is this? Latter Lammas? or St. Ginnyes Even? A wedding? a wedding? what wedding? vpsolue me that question. I, I by Lady? are you avised of that? Who he? anon there gates fellow then you take him for, go to, go to, it is my man I tell you. O in print, he trips it Like a fairy. He's a lying knave, I saw him my self; to him, to to him, frolic it nimbly while I come back; because it's his first day he shall have leave, my daughter too, for half and hour, no more. Go to, go to. Exit Stipes. Stipes farewell? but Stipes cannot farewell, if his affairs go thus quite arsy varsy; you whoreson crab-fac'd lyzard, you left-leg'd rogue, what is there nothing else belongs unto this gear, think you, but only to stare on them with your two saucers of mustard? s'duds, either take them up quickly, and to work about them, or I'll — Stipes strikes him. Are you muttering? you'll in with them, and dispatch them; go you home too, my daughter Merda. Are you mumbling too? what my whole family turned rebels? s'duds—I promise you, I promise you, it's not my best course I see to Beatrice my man thus often; a surly knave by Lady, a surly knave, a strong knave too, I do not Like his looks, he has a vinegar countenance: but peace and catch a mouse, cry I. Honest man in your face, whosoever owes you; God-save, have I nothing to do, but to prittle, prattle, with every one I meet, think you? Exit. How now Ieoffry? know you not me Ieoffry? know you not me? But let that pass though—I'll be with you anon faith for all this gear. Come hither Left-legs, come him there. Peace and catch a mouse cry I. Did you ever when you were at your old Master's, learn to set a trap, Ieoffry? Oh sirrah, sirrah; but we must have to do with other gates kind of cattle, I mean a fox trap Left-legs, come hither, come hither, look you here, and learn, for this same night must I send you into the Pastures to invite my fine Reynold to mor row to breakfast, go too, go too, he is something too fa miliar with my Lambs, mark you that left-legs? A little nigh er I pray you. Help me to twist this Cord — Well said, be a faithful servant Ieoffry. You know I have a daughter Ieofry. Peace and catch a Mouse Ieoffry. You great dunder nose — Souds— You' e lay both hands to work—A bots on you; you hang on my back to see you. Your tother hand in, and draw behind thus, thus look you here. [He gets his hands into the cords, and on a sudden ties him too a tree.] Would, would, he, foh. How rank he smells? but it's no matter, I begin to grow old, and it's good (they say) Against the Palsy. Would, would, he, he, ho. You villain, He loves Mutton well, that dips his bred in'th wool. No less then your Master's daughter Left-legs? Come on in troth, vpsolue me this question is she not tender? is she not delicate? a pretty morsel? does she not relish well? a pretty morsel? but I'll teach you sirrah to play the Mason, and lay your chips o'th rock where you're desired Left-legs, where you're desired. But I am something feeble through my age, And cannot longer hold out 'scourse with you, Without my staff, without my supporter, sir, I pray you do not stir till my return, But let me find yeu here, I have some business, Go to, go to, I have some business with you. Exit Stipes. Mutton well, that dips his bred in'th wool. No less then your Master's daughter Left-legs? Come on in troth, vpsolue me this question is she not tender? And cannot longer hold out 'scourse with you, Without my staff, without my supporter, sir, I pray you do not stir till my return, But let me find yeu here, I have some business, Go to, go to, I have some business with you. Exit Stipes. Fie Ieoffry, are yeu not ashamed, to touch one by the skin? My daughter denies all this most stiffly but I will Ferret-claw my Lobcock faith. So, now I am armed. Go to, go to, come you knave, where are you? Would? would? would? How now by Lady? How now? I, I by Lady? what's this? What's this? gaudy? gaudy? Fine clothes? fine clothes? Would? has no body stole my eyes? let me be sure of that in the first place. Am I Stipes or not? would? would? would? Is this our Ieoffry or not? This is another voice and other face Without all question this is Fairy Ground; My man is changed. Are you advised of that? older and wiser, Soft fire makes sweet Malt, No hast to hang true men; come nearer quoth you? I am near enough already for the good you'll do me I doubt, Come nearer say you? No good M. Devil I am very well I thank you, go to, come nearer when you have a Sword, a Twybill? Yes marry had I; what say you to that now? Nay I'll keep my self out of your clouches I warrant you. Become? become? suppose I spurred you and answer, and said I know not, what can you make of that now? make me a horsenaile of that. Yes marry do I. Crack me that nut now if you be a Gentleman Devil.— Oberum? Oberum? you tell me strange things. Suppose you did. Would you would else. Nay stare on with your goggles till Barley comes to six pence a bushel. You know your wages, some wiser then some, cry I: I'll keep far enough off you: I'll tell you but so. Go to, go to, I am a crafty colt. Well put the case. Put the case the second time. Well put the case again. Thank him Mr. Ieoffry? I, with all my heart. I, I by Lady? will you so Mr. Ieoffry? will you so? go to, go to, a gentleman? said you me so? I con you thank Mr. Ieoffry. No truly Mr. Ieoffry. Are you avised of that? but is this true? A gentleman? said you me so? go to, go to, [He ties Stipes to the tree.] Good Master Ieoffry quickly—so but stay. When I'm a gentleman may I not use, my old trade of sheep heard still? I would not leave it. I, I, by Lady? thats well, but stay again. God-save, if thou be'st a good conjurer make me a knight to. I have a pestilent itch after a knighthood. Let me skip gentleman good Mr. Ieoffry, 'duds I know knights in this country that never were Gentlemen—but vpsolue me this question? can you make My daughter Merda a gentleman too? I, I, so I meant it— Merda, Merda, A bots on you, Merda, are you dreaming again? Why Merda, you'll come when your noun father calls? That is a good girl. Nay she is towardly enough, shee' quickly learn. Why do you stare so on Mr. Ieoffry? Come you're a fool, let that man alone. We shall be gentlefolks ourselves my chucken, give him your hands to ty I say, be obedient. Thou presently shalt see thine own sweet father, As fine as he, and thou my little Sweet-lipp's Shalt be a gentlewoman too, go to, good Ieoffry tie her hands. Oh! she's half turned already: forsooth and a curtsy at eve ry word; Mrs. Vrsely? thou shalt put Mrs. Ʋ rsly into a pint pot. Take off your garter quickly you Maukin you. Marry shalt thou goldy locks, and be a La die, and contemn her. Call her the good old country woman too. I, I by Lady? 'twas well thought upon, Good Mr. Ieoffry step into my house, He goes out and re turns presently with a long grey cloak. You there shall find my cloak, use that. Oh Mr. Ieoffry, is that Ob'rum? Pray you let me see him. [Ant lifts up the cloak and Stipes sees him.] Is this Obrum? God-save, he is but poorly parrelled himself me thinks. Peace and catch a mouse cry I. Peace, I wu'd not for the best cow in my yard that he should hear thee. A bott's upon you, that same tongue Of yours must needs be wagging. We must begin again now for your tattling, Did not the Gentleman command us silence? A bots on you. What? is she come now to trouble us! My daughter, I do charge you on my blessing Look scurvily upon her. Call her not Mother darling, but disclaim her, She is no wife of mine, she does conspire Against our gentility daughter, and she lies; Call her the plain old woman, sweet-lips, do; I'll bear you cut in't, do as your father bids you. But does this stand good in law? Oh, Oh, Oh. Oh, Oh, good wife—Oh, Oh, honey wife. Buz, peace and catch a mouse cry I. But Master Ieoffry. You know I was your Master to day. Poor, and ill parell'd. But now you see how strangely altered. Are you avised of that? I'll never trust winking beast again for your sake, I'll tell you but so. Did you not tell me that Obrum would make me a gentleman? Obrum? Obrum? if Obrum has no better tricks then these, let Obrum keep his tricks to cool his porridge, God-save I looked every minute when Obrum would have put a green scarlet suit upon my back Like your's, all to be daubed with spingle spangle's; and in the mean time comes my wife with a black and blue home spun of her own making. Well that same Obrum is a sembling cony catching knave, and I know what I could call you too, but for your whiniard, and your staring goggles. Well I will venture to speak what ere come on it, but stay, I'll first say over the charm my Mother learned me. Be'st thou devil gentle, or be'st thou devil cursed, In the name of Saint Swithin do thy worst. There's sauce for your Ecles what ever you are. Now see if I cannot shape you and answer. Ah sweet Mr. Ieoffry. [Enter Loueall with a Bedlam.] I, good Master Ieoffry, stand farther you great baggage and make room for your rathers' proaching greatness. I am a gentleman, and I will be a gentleman, I will enclose, and I will raise rends —I will be a lower-house man, and I will be—