FOOTNOTES:

"Rough, wrathful wordsAre bastards got by rashness in the thoughts;"

"Rough, wrathful words

Are bastards got by rashness in the thoughts;"

from bathos he is just saved by a sense of the incongruous: "O doe not" begs he of the virago whom he styles "sweete,"

"O, doe not set the organ of thy voiceOn such a grunting tone of discontent!Doe not deforme the beautie of thy tongueWith such mishapen answeres."

"O, doe not set the organ of thy voice

On such a grunting tone of discontent!

Doe not deforme the beautie of thy tongue

With such mishapen answeres."

It is appropriate that upon him who has given rise to the brief unpleasantness by inviting guests without his wife's consent, should rest theonusof devising the effective "pollicie" of reconciliation.

From him Goursey is well differenced. Possessed of a finer wife and a quicker temper, when the former, contrary to expectation, crosses the latter he well-nigh falls into an apoplexy. Oaths he abhors, but in the access of his rage swears horribly and apologizes to the Almighty between breaths.

That the morals of the sons reproduce those of the sires in their salad days, I reluctantly suspect. It is the recital of young Frank's licentiousness that convinces young Philip that here is just the husband for Sister Mall. And—considering that Mall is frankly and squarely what her mother calls her, a "lustie guts" and "vile girl," in fact her mother's daughter, fit to "floute the devill and make blush the boldest face of man that ere man saw" a swearing wench whose only claim to morals is unmorality—Philip's judgment is correct. There is, in my opinion, no coarser-minded girl in Elizabethan comedy; and at the same time there obtains no dramatic portrayal of the animal more observantly conceived or more faithfully executed. That she is, as Mr. Ellis says, less sophisticated than Congreve's Prue, is not exactly to her credit. Nor need I make her out "a wholesome, robust English girl ... with a brave openness, loving and sincere," in order to justify my appreciation of Porter's skill in creating her. She is, indeed, robust and Elizabethan, seventeen and upward; but within she is a mate for Caliban; no relation to Prue,—rather a link between Wapull's Wilful Wanton and Vanbrugh's Hoyden. It is hardlynecessary to point out the literary and dramatic affinities of Sir Raph and his wife: the buck-hunting squire and the lady tender-hearted and "pitous."

The foregoing are characters of broad outline; but each has, as well, his quirk of conduct, manners, or of style. The jealous wife with her "stopt compares"; "Mistresse Would-Have," who has "let restrainèd fancy lose," and sworn to lead no apes in hell; her brother, a poet at second-hand, and "sick discourser" of his sister's wit; Nan Lawson's lover of "quick invention" and "pleasure-aiming mind,"—these and others of the major movement are as palpably in their "humours" as Mrs. Otter, Doll Common, Master Stephen, or Kitely, or Truewit. And when we turn to the secondary group we find the "humours" not only advertised upon the title-page but specified in the text. Dick Coomes is "humord bluntly" to brag and swear and drink and quarrel and talk bawdy. "I see, by this dearth of good swords, that dearth of sword-and-buckler fight begins to grow out; I am sorry for it," complains this swashbuckler serving-man. With "Sbloud!" he comes upon the stage, and there's little left of God unhallowed when Coomes subsides beneath his buckler in the dark. "Why, what a swearing keeps this drunken asse," exclaims Francis. "Peace, do not marre hishumour," Phil replies. "Away, bawdie man," cries Hodge, and even the Boy must say, "Here him no more, maister; he doth bedawbe ye with his durty speche." He has a "merriehumour," too, this Coomes, of punning, and has brought "the apparell of his wit ... into fashion of an honor." A Thraso of the servants' hall, he'll outswear any 'Pharaoh's foot' of a tailor's shop. He can dispute precedence with Ancient Pistol as "the foul-mouthedst rogue in England"; and when he's in his "quarrelinghumour," not Pistol, nor Bobadil, nor the 'humorous' Nim could swagger to Dawson's close or out of a horse-pond with a more humorous grace. It is to be noted that, in his first lines, Coomes animadverts upon "the humour of those young springals," his masters, who "will spend all their fathers' good at gaming"; also that Philip's servingman has his humour both of manners and of style: "a spruce slave," cross-gartered like Malvolio, "a nosegay bound with laces in his hat," "all proverbes in his speech ... because he wouldspeak truth," a dramatic Camden or Ray, who quotes Latin withal, and is as marked in his "humour" as Coomes and Franke's Boy, and Mall and Mrs. Barnes in theirs.

Place in the History of Comedy.—It would, therefore, be of no small importance to determine whether thisPleasant Historyis Henslowe'sComodey of Umersof May 11, 1597; for if it be, this play of characteristics precedesEvery Man in his Humour, and disputes the "place peculiar to itself in our dramatic literature" which most critics have assigned to that masterpiece of Ben Jonson. But even if it be not the play of May 11, 1597, our drama was certainly written before December 22, 1598, probably by May 30 of that year; and consequently to Porter, as an influential associate of Chapman and Jonson, must be given something of the credit of blazing the path toward the comedy of characteristic. The fun of the play has at once a Chaucerian shrewdness and a something of the careless guffaw of W. Wager. Its realism throws back toMak, andJohan,Tom TylerandGammer Gurton. As a comedy of unadulterated native flavour, breathing rural life and manners and the modern spirit, constructed with knowledge of the stage, and without affectation or constraint, it has no foregoing analogue except perhapsThe Pinner of Wakefield. No play preceding or contemporary yields an easier conversational prose, not even theMerry Wives.

We must not close this study without remarking certain resemblances to Shakespeare. In the matter of situations and language traces of theRomeo and Julietof 1592, and theMidsummer-Night's Dreamof 1594-1595, appear. The fanciful reader might, indeed, suspect something like a good-natured burlesque of the balcony scene in the conversation between Frank and Mall "at her window"; perhaps even of themotifof Shakespeare's tragedy, in the loves of the children of the inimical wives of Abington: "How, sir? your wife!" says Mrs. Barnes to Francis:—

"Wouldst thou my daughter have?Ile rather have her married to her grave."

"Wouldst thou my daughter have?

Ile rather have her married to her grave."

Even so had spoken Lady Capulet. And Romeo seems to be muttering in his sleep through Philip's soliloquy:—

"The skie ...Is in three houres become an Ethiope ...She will not have one of those pearlèd starresTo blab her sable metamorphosis."

"The skie ...

Is in three houres become an Ethiope ...

She will not have one of those pearlèd starres

To blab her sable metamorphosis."

If anything further were needed to illustrate Philip's taste in plays, it would be furnished by the hazy reminiscence of "the imperial votaress" and "the nun, for aye ... in shady cloister mewed." Indeed, if Porter did not have in mind the quadrilateral wanderings of theMidsummer-Night's Dreamwhen Frank and Mall missed the way to Carfax, I am much surprised. That Dick Coomes, when he stood between his mistress and the angel to be tempted, was not thinking of Gobbo, is, of course, possible, but it is not possible that Dick Coomes's creator was not familiar with theMerchant of Venice. There is also, as I have already implied, a quality in Dick's sword-and-buckler voice that rings contemporaneous with theHenry IV., Pts. I. and II.To trace a connection between the well-known lines ofHamletin 1602 and Porter's

"How loathsome is this beast man's shape to meThis mould of reason so unreasonable"

"How loathsome is this beast man's shape to me

This mould of reason so unreasonable"

(1597-98), would, I fear, be fanciful. The resemblance, faint as it is, may be due to mere coincidence or to derivation from a common source.

Previous Editions and the Present Text.—Two editions of this play were published in 1599: one for Joseph Hunt and William Ferbrand; the other for Ferbrand alone (in same place of business). From the variations in spelling and text which characterize the Ferbrand quarto and are evidently intended for improvements, and from the fact that Ferbrand was still alone when, in 1600, he published another play,Look About You, I conclude that the edition printed during the period of partnership was the earlier of the two. It will be indicated in the notes to the present text as Q 1. Of Q 1 a copy is to be found in the British Museum (162. d. 55). Of Q 2, published by Ferbrand alone, there are two copies in the Bodleian, one formerly owned by Malone, the other by Douce. Q 2 furnishes the more careful text. That it was made, however, not from manuscript, but from Q 1, is evidenced by the retentionof occasional printers' errors and oddities characteristic of the earlier edition. Dyce, in his edition (Dy.) for the Percy Society, 1841, followed Q 1, with occasional readings from Q 2 and silent emendations. This edition, with modernized spelling, is included in Hazlitt'sDodsley, Vol. VII. (H.). Mr. Havelock Ellis's edition of the play (E.), with acts, scenes, and modernized spelling, for the Mermaid Series (Nero and Other Plays, 1888), appears to be based upon H. The present text is that of Q 2 (Bodl. Malone 184), with such substitutes from Q 1 as are indicated in the footnotes.

Charles Mills Gayley.

FOOTNOTES:[1580]Nos. 1, 2, 4, 7, 9, 10, 11, 14, 15, 16, 17, 19, 20, 22.[1581]Catalogue of the MSS. and Muniments of Alleyn's College of God's Gift at Dulwich, Lond.: 1881, pp. 157-162. See also H. B. Wheatley,John Payne Collier; Lond.: 1884, p. 61.[1582]Collier says this name was added "in a different hand to indicate" the author.[1583]Witnesses.[1584]Nos. 18, 21, 23, 24 are consecutive on p. 94, and in Henslowe's writing, but with Porter's signature after 24.[1585]After this follows an item, p. 149, to the effect that the "boocke of the spencers" had helped Chettle to pay off "xˢ of a debt with the companye."[1586]The whole of this acknowledgment is in Porter's handwriting.[1587]British Museum, C. 39, b. 21.[1588]Heber (Bibl. Heber), Pt. IV., No. 2872, in B. M.[1589]British Museum: Add. MS., 24487-92, Vol. II. 302.[1590]Fasti, I. 284.[1591]Boase and Clark, Vol. II., Pt. 1, p. 147.[1592]As above, p. 145.[1593]Douce, in a note in the unique copy in the Bodleian, says that according to the date of the print by Cecill, Weever was twenty-three in 1599. The epigram in which Weever says that he is not yet twenty may therefore have been written as early as 1596.[1594]Mermaid Series,Porter, p. 90.[1595]With this opinion I find that Mr. Bayne agrees,D. N. B. Art.,Porter.[1596]Hunter, II, 300, andHist. Reg. Univ. Oxford, 1888.[1597]Boase and Clark, Vol. II., Pt. 2, p. 170.[1598]Alex.was acted fifteen times during the next six months,That Will Betwelve times. TheWomanran for four months and was acted ten times.Alex.brought in almost as much as the others combined.[1599]Henslowe, p. 78. Fleay conjecturally identifies it with theChallenge for Beauty.[1600]Henslowe, pp. 123, 128; May 16, and July 18, 1598.[1601]Henslowe, p. 101.[1602]Two A. W. A., Pt. II., £18 5s.;The Spencers, £30 10s.Properties rarely cost more than £15.[1603]Henslowe, p. 129, August 26, October 28.[1604]£18 5s., if we may assume (as Mr. Fleay does) that the entries, pp. 143-144, of January 26 and February 1, refer to this play.[1605]Sic.: Henslowe, p. 130.[1606]Not the other way around as Collier thinks (Henslowe, p. 146,n.) forEdw. II.had been in print since 1594.[1607]Henslowe, pp. 130, 146. Cf. the advance from £10 8s.on May 27, 1599, to £16 12s.on June 3, the day after Dekker and Chettle'sAgamemnonwas licensed and probably first acted; and the advance from £3 14s.on October 27, 1599, to £8 16s., the week ending November 3 (Henslowe, p. 152), during which the successfulSʳ John Oldcastellhad "ferste" been played.[1608]But, of course, we cannot with certainty attribute the increase of April 16 toThe Spencersalone. It may have proceeded, in part, from the revival ofAlex. and Lodowick, for the properties required by which Henslowe had, on March 31, advanced £5 to Juby. Henslowe had, moreover, obtained license during March for the4 Kynges,Brute Grensbillde, and "four other plays" (pp. 146, 147).[1609]pp. 82-91.[1610]Title-page ofE. M. i. H., edited by B. J., 1616.[1611]Diary, p. 276.[1612]p. 124.[1613]Notice the résumé of the action in the speeches of Goursey and Sir Raph, Sc. xiv., ll. 277-289, the "crossing of true love." I am pleased to find that in this conjecture, which I had imagined to be new, I have been anticipated by Mr. Fleay,Chron. Engl. Drama.2, 163.[1614]Halliwell-Phillips assignsPalladis Tamiato the early part of 1598, but there are no notes in theS. R.to aid us in the investigation. Mr. Fleay assigns it to November, 1598.

[1580]Nos. 1, 2, 4, 7, 9, 10, 11, 14, 15, 16, 17, 19, 20, 22.

[1581]Catalogue of the MSS. and Muniments of Alleyn's College of God's Gift at Dulwich, Lond.: 1881, pp. 157-162. See also H. B. Wheatley,John Payne Collier; Lond.: 1884, p. 61.

[1582]Collier says this name was added "in a different hand to indicate" the author.

[1583]Witnesses.

[1584]Nos. 18, 21, 23, 24 are consecutive on p. 94, and in Henslowe's writing, but with Porter's signature after 24.

[1585]After this follows an item, p. 149, to the effect that the "boocke of the spencers" had helped Chettle to pay off "xˢ of a debt with the companye."

[1586]The whole of this acknowledgment is in Porter's handwriting.

[1587]British Museum, C. 39, b. 21.

[1588]Heber (Bibl. Heber), Pt. IV., No. 2872, in B. M.

[1589]British Museum: Add. MS., 24487-92, Vol. II. 302.

[1590]Fasti, I. 284.

[1591]Boase and Clark, Vol. II., Pt. 1, p. 147.

[1592]As above, p. 145.

[1593]Douce, in a note in the unique copy in the Bodleian, says that according to the date of the print by Cecill, Weever was twenty-three in 1599. The epigram in which Weever says that he is not yet twenty may therefore have been written as early as 1596.

[1594]Mermaid Series,Porter, p. 90.

[1595]With this opinion I find that Mr. Bayne agrees,D. N. B. Art.,Porter.

[1596]Hunter, II, 300, andHist. Reg. Univ. Oxford, 1888.

[1597]Boase and Clark, Vol. II., Pt. 2, p. 170.

[1598]Alex.was acted fifteen times during the next six months,That Will Betwelve times. TheWomanran for four months and was acted ten times.Alex.brought in almost as much as the others combined.

[1599]Henslowe, p. 78. Fleay conjecturally identifies it with theChallenge for Beauty.

[1600]Henslowe, pp. 123, 128; May 16, and July 18, 1598.

[1601]Henslowe, p. 101.

[1602]Two A. W. A., Pt. II., £18 5s.;The Spencers, £30 10s.Properties rarely cost more than £15.

[1603]Henslowe, p. 129, August 26, October 28.

[1604]£18 5s., if we may assume (as Mr. Fleay does) that the entries, pp. 143-144, of January 26 and February 1, refer to this play.

[1605]Sic.: Henslowe, p. 130.

[1606]Not the other way around as Collier thinks (Henslowe, p. 146,n.) forEdw. II.had been in print since 1594.

[1607]Henslowe, pp. 130, 146. Cf. the advance from £10 8s.on May 27, 1599, to £16 12s.on June 3, the day after Dekker and Chettle'sAgamemnonwas licensed and probably first acted; and the advance from £3 14s.on October 27, 1599, to £8 16s., the week ending November 3 (Henslowe, p. 152), during which the successfulSʳ John Oldcastellhad "ferste" been played.

[1608]But, of course, we cannot with certainty attribute the increase of April 16 toThe Spencersalone. It may have proceeded, in part, from the revival ofAlex. and Lodowick, for the properties required by which Henslowe had, on March 31, advanced £5 to Juby. Henslowe had, moreover, obtained license during March for the4 Kynges,Brute Grensbillde, and "four other plays" (pp. 146, 147).

[1609]pp. 82-91.

[1610]Title-page ofE. M. i. H., edited by B. J., 1616.

[1611]Diary, p. 276.

[1612]p. 124.

[1613]Notice the résumé of the action in the speeches of Goursey and Sir Raph, Sc. xiv., ll. 277-289, the "crossing of true love." I am pleased to find that in this conjecture, which I had imagined to be new, I have been anticipated by Mr. Fleay,Chron. Engl. Drama.2, 163.

[1614]Halliwell-Phillips assignsPalladis Tamiato the early part of 1598, but there are no notes in theS. R.to aid us in the investigation. Mr. Fleay assigns it to November, 1598.

THEPLEASANTHISTORY OFthe two angry womenof Abington.With the humorous mirth ofDicke CoomesandNicholas Prouerbes, twoSeruingmen.As it was lately playde by the right Honorablethe Earle of Nottingham, Lord highAdmirall his seruantsByHenry PorterGent.VIGNETTEImprinted at London for William Ferbrand,and are to be solde at his shop at the corner ofColman streete neere Loathbury.1599.

THE

With the humorous mirth ofDicke CoomesandNicholas Prouerbes, twoSeruingmen.

As it was lately playde by the right Honorablethe Earle of Nottingham, Lord highAdmirall his seruants

ByHenry PorterGent.

VIGNETTE

Imprinted at London for William Ferbrand,and are to be solde at his shop at the corner ofColman streete neere Loathbury.1599.

FOOTNOTES:[1615]First in Q 2.

[1615]First in Q 2.

Gentlemen, I come to yee like one that lackes and would borrow, but was loath to aske least hee should be denied: I would aske, but I would aske to obtaine; O would I knewe that manner of asking! To beg were base, and to cooche low and to carry an humble shew of entreatie were too dog-like, that fawnes on his maister to get a bone from his trencher: out, curre! I cannot abide it to put on the shape and habit of this new worlds new found beggars, mistermed souldiers, as thus; 'Sweet gentlemen, let a poore scholler implore and exorate[1616]that you would make him rich in the possession of a mite of your favours, to keep him a true man in wit, and to pay for his lodging among the Muses! so God him helpe, he is driven to a most low estate: tis not unknowne what service of words he hath been at; hee lost his lims in a late conflict of floute; a brave repulse and a hot assault it was, he doth protest, as ever he saw since hee knewe what the report of a volley of jestes were; he shall therefore desire you'—A plague upon it, each beadle disdained would whip him from your companie. Well, gentlemen, I cannot tell howe to get your favours better then by desert: then the worse lucke, or the worse wit, or some what, for I shall not now deserve it. Welcome[1617]then, I commit my selfe to my fortunes, and your contents; contented to dye, if your severe judgements shall judge me to be stung to death with the adders hisse.

FOOTNOTES:[1616]Qtos.,exerate.[1617]Q 1, 'Well.'

[1616]Qtos.,exerate.

[1617]Q 1, 'Well.'

The pleasant Comedy of thetwo angry Women ofAbington

EnterMaster Gourseyand his wife, andMaster Barnesand his wife, with their two sonnes, and their two servants.

Maister Goursey.Good maister Barnes, this entertaine of yours,So full of courtesie and rich delight,Makes me misdoubt my poore abilityIn quittance of this friendly courtesie.M. Bar.O master Goursey, neighbour amitie5Is such a jewell of high reckoned worth,As for the attaine of it what would not IDisburse, it is so precious in my thoughts!M. Gou.Kinde sir, neere dwelling amity indeedOffers the hearts enquiry better view10Then love thats seated in a farther soyle:As prospectives[1619]the[1620]neerer that they beYeeld better judgement to the judging eye;Thinges seene farre off are lessened in the eye,When their true shape is seene being hard by.15M. Bar.True, sir, tis so; and truely I esteemeMeere[1621]amity, familiar neighbourhood,The cousen germaine unto wedded love.M. Gou.I,[1622]sir, thers surely some aliance twixt them,For they have both the off-spring from the heart:20Within the hearts bloud ocean still are foundJewels of amity and jemmes of love.M. Bar.I, master Goursey, I have in my timeSeene many shipwracks of true honesty;But incident such dangers ever are25To them that without compass sayle so farre:Why, what need men to swim when they may wade?But leave this talke, enough of this is said:And, master Goursey, in good faith, sir, wellcome;—And, mistresse Goursey, I am much in debt30Unto your kindnes that would visit me.Mi. Gou.O master Barnes, you put me but in mindeOf that which I should say; tis we that areIndebted to your kindness for this cheere:Which debt that we may repay, I pray lets have35Sometimes your company at our homely house.Mi. Bar.That, mistresse Goursey, you shall surely have;Heele[1623]be a bolde guest I warrant ye,And boulder too with you then I would have him.Mis. Gou.How doe ye meane he will be bolde with me?40Mi. Bar.Why, he will trouble you at home, forsooth,Often call in, and aske ye how ye doe;And sit and chat with you all day till night,And all night too, if he might have his will.M. Bar.I, wife, indeed, I thanke her for her kindnes;45She hath made me much good cheere passing that way.Mi. Bar.Passing well done of her; she is a kinde wench.—I thanke ye, mistresse Goursey, for my husband;And if it hap your husband come our wayA hunting or such ordinary sportes,50Ile do as much for yours as you for mine.M. Gou.Pray doe, forsooth.—Gods Lord, what meanes the woman?She speakes it scornefully: i faith I care not;Things are well spoken, if they be well taken.— [Aside.]What, mistresse Barnes, is it not time to part?55Mis. Bar.Whats a clocke, sirra?Nicholas.Tis but new strucke one.M. Gou.I have some busines in the towne by three.M. Bar.Till then lets walke into the orchard, sir.What, can you play at tables?[1624]60M. Gou.Yes, I can.M. Bar.What, shall we have a game?M. Gou.And if you please.M. Bar.I faith, content; weele spend an hower so.—Sirra, fetch the tables.[1625]65Nic.I will, sir.Exit.Phil.Sirra Franke, whilst they are playing heere,Weele to the greene to bowles.Fra.Phillip, content.—Coomes, come hyther, sirra:When our fathers part, call us upon the greene.—70Phillip, come, a rubber,[1626]and so leave.Phil.Come on.Exeunt[PhillipandFrancis].

Maister Goursey.Good maister Barnes, this entertaine of yours,So full of courtesie and rich delight,Makes me misdoubt my poore abilityIn quittance of this friendly courtesie.

Maister Goursey.Good maister Barnes, this entertaine of yours,

So full of courtesie and rich delight,

Makes me misdoubt my poore ability

In quittance of this friendly courtesie.

M. Bar.O master Goursey, neighbour amitie5Is such a jewell of high reckoned worth,As for the attaine of it what would not IDisburse, it is so precious in my thoughts!

M. Bar.O master Goursey, neighbour amitie5

Is such a jewell of high reckoned worth,

As for the attaine of it what would not I

Disburse, it is so precious in my thoughts!

M. Gou.Kinde sir, neere dwelling amity indeedOffers the hearts enquiry better view10Then love thats seated in a farther soyle:As prospectives[1619]the[1620]neerer that they beYeeld better judgement to the judging eye;Thinges seene farre off are lessened in the eye,When their true shape is seene being hard by.15

M. Gou.Kinde sir, neere dwelling amity indeed

Offers the hearts enquiry better view10

Then love thats seated in a farther soyle:

As prospectives[1619]the[1620]neerer that they be

Yeeld better judgement to the judging eye;

Thinges seene farre off are lessened in the eye,

When their true shape is seene being hard by.15

M. Bar.True, sir, tis so; and truely I esteemeMeere[1621]amity, familiar neighbourhood,The cousen germaine unto wedded love.

M. Bar.True, sir, tis so; and truely I esteeme

Meere[1621]amity, familiar neighbourhood,

The cousen germaine unto wedded love.

M. Gou.I,[1622]sir, thers surely some aliance twixt them,For they have both the off-spring from the heart:20Within the hearts bloud ocean still are foundJewels of amity and jemmes of love.

M. Gou.I,[1622]sir, thers surely some aliance twixt them,

For they have both the off-spring from the heart:20

Within the hearts bloud ocean still are found

Jewels of amity and jemmes of love.

M. Bar.I, master Goursey, I have in my timeSeene many shipwracks of true honesty;But incident such dangers ever are25To them that without compass sayle so farre:Why, what need men to swim when they may wade?But leave this talke, enough of this is said:And, master Goursey, in good faith, sir, wellcome;—And, mistresse Goursey, I am much in debt30Unto your kindnes that would visit me.

M. Bar.I, master Goursey, I have in my time

Seene many shipwracks of true honesty;

But incident such dangers ever are25

To them that without compass sayle so farre:

Why, what need men to swim when they may wade?

But leave this talke, enough of this is said:

And, master Goursey, in good faith, sir, wellcome;—

And, mistresse Goursey, I am much in debt30

Unto your kindnes that would visit me.

Mi. Gou.O master Barnes, you put me but in mindeOf that which I should say; tis we that areIndebted to your kindness for this cheere:Which debt that we may repay, I pray lets have35Sometimes your company at our homely house.

Mi. Gou.O master Barnes, you put me but in minde

Of that which I should say; tis we that are

Indebted to your kindness for this cheere:

Which debt that we may repay, I pray lets have35

Sometimes your company at our homely house.

Mi. Bar.That, mistresse Goursey, you shall surely have;Heele[1623]be a bolde guest I warrant ye,And boulder too with you then I would have him.

Mi. Bar.That, mistresse Goursey, you shall surely have;

Heele[1623]be a bolde guest I warrant ye,

And boulder too with you then I would have him.

Mis. Gou.How doe ye meane he will be bolde with me?40

Mi. Bar.Why, he will trouble you at home, forsooth,Often call in, and aske ye how ye doe;And sit and chat with you all day till night,And all night too, if he might have his will.

Mi. Bar.Why, he will trouble you at home, forsooth,

Often call in, and aske ye how ye doe;

And sit and chat with you all day till night,

And all night too, if he might have his will.

M. Bar.I, wife, indeed, I thanke her for her kindnes;45She hath made me much good cheere passing that way.

M. Bar.I, wife, indeed, I thanke her for her kindnes;45

She hath made me much good cheere passing that way.

Mi. Bar.Passing well done of her; she is a kinde wench.—I thanke ye, mistresse Goursey, for my husband;And if it hap your husband come our wayA hunting or such ordinary sportes,50Ile do as much for yours as you for mine.

Mi. Bar.Passing well done of her; she is a kinde wench.—

I thanke ye, mistresse Goursey, for my husband;

And if it hap your husband come our way

A hunting or such ordinary sportes,50

Ile do as much for yours as you for mine.

M. Gou.Pray doe, forsooth.—Gods Lord, what meanes the woman?She speakes it scornefully: i faith I care not;Things are well spoken, if they be well taken.— [Aside.]What, mistresse Barnes, is it not time to part?55

M. Gou.Pray doe, forsooth.—Gods Lord, what meanes the woman?

She speakes it scornefully: i faith I care not;

Things are well spoken, if they be well taken.— [Aside.]

What, mistresse Barnes, is it not time to part?55

Mis. Bar.Whats a clocke, sirra?

Nicholas.Tis but new strucke one.

M. Gou.I have some busines in the towne by three.

M. Bar.Till then lets walke into the orchard, sir.What, can you play at tables?[1624]60

M. Bar.Till then lets walke into the orchard, sir.

What, can you play at tables?[1624]60

M. Gou.Yes, I can.

M. Bar.What, shall we have a game?

M. Gou.And if you please.

M. Bar.I faith, content; weele spend an hower so.—Sirra, fetch the tables.[1625]65

M. Bar.I faith, content; weele spend an hower so.—

Sirra, fetch the tables.[1625]65

Nic.I will, sir.Exit.

Nic.I will, sir.

Exit.

Phil.Sirra Franke, whilst they are playing heere,Weele to the greene to bowles.

Phil.Sirra Franke, whilst they are playing heere,

Weele to the greene to bowles.

Fra.Phillip, content.—Coomes, come hyther, sirra:When our fathers part, call us upon the greene.—70Phillip, come, a rubber,[1626]and so leave.

Fra.Phillip, content.—Coomes, come hyther, sirra:

When our fathers part, call us upon the greene.—70

Phillip, come, a rubber,[1626]and so leave.

Phil.Come on.Exeunt[PhillipandFrancis].

Phil.Come on.

Exeunt[PhillipandFrancis].

Coom.Sbloud, I doe not like the humour of these springals; theil spend all their fathers good at gamming. But let them trowle the bowles upon the greene; Ile trowle the bowles in the buttery by the leave of God and maister Barnes: and his men be good fellows, so it is; if they be not, let them goe snick up.[1627]77

Exit.

EnterNicholaswith the tables.

M. Bar.So, set them downe.—Mistresse Goursey, how doe you like this game?Mi. Gou.Well, sir.80M. Bar.Can ye play at it?Mis. Gou.A little, sir.M. Bar.Faith, so can my wife.M. Gou.Why, then, master Barnes, and if you please,Our wives shall try the quarrell twixt us two,85And weele looke on.M. Bar.I am content.—What, woman,[1628]will you play?Mis. Gou.I care not greatly.Mis. Bar.Nor I, but that I thinke sheele play me false.M. Gou.Ile see she shall not.90Mis. Bar.Nay, sir, she will be sure you shall not see,You of all men shall not marke her hand;She hath such close conveyance in her play.M. Gou.Is she so cunning growne? Come, come, lets see.Mis. Gou.Yea, mistris Barnes, will ye not house your jests,95But let them rome abroad so carelesly?Faith, if your jealious tongue utter another,Ile crosse ye with a jest, and ye were my mother.— [Aside.]Come, shall we play?Mis. Bar.I, what shall we play a game?100Mis. Gou.A pound a game.M. Gou.How, wife?Mis. Gou.Faith, husband, not a farthing lesse.M. Gou.It is too much; a shilling were good game.M[is].Gou.No, weell be ill huswives once;105You have oft been ill husbands: lets alone.M. Bar.Wife, will you play so much?Mis. Bar.I would be loath to be so franke a gaimsterAs mistresse Goursey is; and yet for onceIle play a pound a game aswell as she.110M. Bar.Go to, youle have your will.Offer to goe from them.Mis. Bar.Come, ther's my stake.Mis. Gou.And ther's mine.Mis. Bar.Throw for the dice. Ill luck! they are yours.M. Bar.Master Goursey, who sayes that gamings bad,115When such good angels[1629]walke twixt every cast?M. Gou.This is not noble sport, but royall play.M. Bar.It must be so where royals walke so fast.Mis. Bar.Play right, I pray.Mi. Gou.Why, so I doe.120Mis. Bar.Where stands your man?Mis. Gou.In his right place.Mis. Bar.Good faith, I thinke ye play me foule an ace.M. Bar.No, wife, she playes ye true.Mis. Bar.Peace, husband, peace; ile not be judged by you.125Mis. Gou.Husband, master Barnes, pray both goe walke;We cannot play, if standers by doe talke.M. Gou.Well, to your game; we will not trouble ye.[GourseyandBarnes]goe from them.Mi. Gou.Where stands your man now?Mi. Bar.Doth he not stand right?130Mi. Gou.It stands betweene the pointes.Mi. Bar.And thats my spight.But yet me thinkes the dice runnes much uneven,That I throw but dewes ase and you eleven.Mis. Gou.And yet you see that I cast downe the hill.135Mi. Bar.I, I beshrew ye, tis not with my will.Mis. Gou.Do ye beshrew me?Mi. Bar.No, I beshrew the dice,That turne you up more at once then me at twise.Mi. Gou.Well, you shall see them turne for you anon.140Mi. Bar.But I care not for them when your game is done.Mi. Gou.My game! what game?Mi. Bar.Your game, your game at tables.Mi. Gou.Well, mistresse, well, I have red Æsops fables,And know your morrals meaning well enough.145Mi. Bar.Loe, you'l be angry now! heres good stuffe.[Re-enterGourseyandBarnes.]M. Gour.How now, woman?[1630]who hath wonne the game?Mi. Gou.No body yet.M. Bar.Your wife's the fairest for't.[1631]Mi. Bar.I, in your eye.150Mi. Gou.How do you meane?Mi. Bar.He holds you fairer for't then I.Mi. Gou.For what, forsooth?Mi. Bar.Good gamster, for your game.M. Bar.Well, try it out; t'is all but in the bearing.[1632]155Mi. Bar.Nay, if it come to bearing, shee'l be best.Mi. Gou.Why you'r as good a bearer as the rest.Mi. Bar.Nay, thats not so; you beare one man too many.Mi. Gou.Better doe so then beare not any.Mi. Ba.Beshrew me, but my wives jestes grow too bitter;160Plainer speeches for her were more [fit]ter:[1633]Malice lyes inbowelled in her tongue,And new hatcht hate makes every jest a wrong. [Aside.]Mi. Go.Looke ye, mistresse, now I hit yee.Mi. Bar.Why, I, you never use to misse a blot,[1632]165Especially when it stands so faire to hit.Mi. Gou.How meane ye, mistresse Barnes?Mi. Ba.That mistresse Gourse's in the hitting vaine.Mi. Gou.I hot[1634]your man.Mi. Bar.I, I, my man, my man; but, had I knowne,170I would have had my man stood neerer home.Mi. Gou.Why, had ye kept your man in his right place,I should not then have hit him with an ase.Mis. Bar.Right, by the Lord! a plague upon the bones!Mi. Gou.And a hot mischiefe on the curser too!175M. Bar.How now, wife?M. Gour.Why, whats the matter, woman?Mi. Gou.It is no matter: I am——Mis. Bar.I, you are——Mi. Gou.What am I?180Mis. Bar.Why, thats as you will be ever.Mis. Gou.That's every day as good as Barneses wife.Mi. Bar.And better too: then what needs al this trouble?A single horse is worse then that beares double.M. Bar.Wife, go to, have regard to that you say;185Let not your words passe foorth the vierge of reason,But keep within the bounds of modesty,For ill report doth like a bayliffe stand,To pound the straying and the wit-lost tongue,And makes it forfeit into follies hands.190Well, wife, you know tis[1635]no honest partTo entertaine such guests with jestes and wronges:What will the neighbring country vulgar say,When as they heare that you fell out at dinner?Forsooth,[1636]they'l call it a pot quarrell straight;195The best they'l name it, is a womans jangling.Go too, be rulde, be rulde.Mi. Bar.Gods Lord, be rulde, be rulde!What, thinke ye I have such a babies wit,To have a rods correction for my tongue?200Schoole infancie; I am of age to speake,And I know when to speake: shall I be chidFor such a[1637]——Mi. Gou.What a? nay, mistresse, speake it out;I scorne your stopt compares: compare not me205To any but your equals, mistresse Barnes.M. Gou.Peace, wife, be quiet.M. Bar.O, perswade, perswade!—Wife, mistresse Goursey, shall I winne your thoughtsTo composition of some kind effects?210Wife, if you love your credit, leave this strife,And come shake hands with mistresse Goursey heere.Mi. Ba.Shall I shake hands? let her go shake her heeles;She gets nor hands, nor friendship at my hands:And so, sir, while I live I will take heed,215What guests I bid againe unto my house.M. Bar.Impatient woman, will you be so stiffeIn this absurdnes?[1638]Mi. Ba.I am impatient now I speake;But, sir, Ile tell you more another time:220Go too, I will not take it as I have done.Exit.Mis. Gou.Nay, she might stay; I will not long be heereTo trouble her. Well, maister Barnes,I am sorry that it was our happes to day,To have our pleasures parted with this fray:225I am sorrie too for all that is amisse,Especially that you are moov'de in this.But be not so, tis but a womans jarre,Their tongues are weapons, words there blowes of warre.'Twas but a while we buffeted you saw,230And each of us was willing to withdraw;There was no harme nor bloudshed you did see:Tush, feare us not, for we shall well agree.I take my leave, sir.—Come, kinde harted man,That speakes his wife so faire, I, now and than;235I know you would not for an hundreth poundThat I should heare your voyces churlish sound;I know you have a farre more milder tuneThen 'Peace, be quiet, wife'; but I have done.Will ye go home? the doore directs the way;240But, if you will not, my dutie is to stay.[Exit.]M. Bar.Ha, ha! why, heres a right woman, is there not?They both have din'de, yet see what stomacks they have!M. Gou.Well, maister Barnes, we cannot do with all:[1639]Let us be friends still.245M. Bar.O, maister Goursey, the mettell of our minds,Having the temper of true reason in them,Affoordes[1640]a better edge of argumentFor the maintaine of our familiar lovesThen the soft leaden wit of women can;250Wherefore with all the parts of neighbour loveI impart[1641]my selfe to maister Goursey.M. Gou.And with exchange of love I do receive it:Then here weel part, partners of two curst wives.M. Ba.Oh, where shall wee find a man so blest that is not?[1642]But come; your businesse and my home affaires256Makes me deliver that unfriendly wordeMongst friends—farewell.[1643]M. Gou.Twentie farewels, sir.M. Bar.But harke ye, maister Goursey;260Looke ye perswade at home as I will do:What, man! we must not alwayes have them foes.M. Go.If I can helpe it.M. Bar.God helpe, God helpe!Women are even untoward creatures still.265Exeunt.

M. Bar.So, set them downe.—Mistresse Goursey, how doe you like this game?

M. Bar.So, set them downe.—

Mistresse Goursey, how doe you like this game?

Mi. Gou.Well, sir.80

M. Bar.Can ye play at it?

Mis. Gou.A little, sir.

M. Bar.Faith, so can my wife.

M. Gou.Why, then, master Barnes, and if you please,Our wives shall try the quarrell twixt us two,85And weele looke on.

M. Gou.Why, then, master Barnes, and if you please,

Our wives shall try the quarrell twixt us two,85

And weele looke on.

M. Bar.I am content.—What, woman,[1628]will you play?

Mis. Gou.I care not greatly.

Mis. Bar.Nor I, but that I thinke sheele play me false.

M. Gou.Ile see she shall not.90

Mis. Bar.Nay, sir, she will be sure you shall not see,You of all men shall not marke her hand;She hath such close conveyance in her play.

Mis. Bar.Nay, sir, she will be sure you shall not see,

You of all men shall not marke her hand;

She hath such close conveyance in her play.

M. Gou.Is she so cunning growne? Come, come, lets see.

Mis. Gou.Yea, mistris Barnes, will ye not house your jests,95But let them rome abroad so carelesly?Faith, if your jealious tongue utter another,Ile crosse ye with a jest, and ye were my mother.— [Aside.]Come, shall we play?

Mis. Gou.Yea, mistris Barnes, will ye not house your jests,95

But let them rome abroad so carelesly?

Faith, if your jealious tongue utter another,

Ile crosse ye with a jest, and ye were my mother.— [Aside.]

Come, shall we play?

Mis. Bar.I, what shall we play a game?100

Mis. Gou.A pound a game.

M. Gou.How, wife?

Mis. Gou.Faith, husband, not a farthing lesse.

M. Gou.It is too much; a shilling were good game.

M[is].Gou.No, weell be ill huswives once;105You have oft been ill husbands: lets alone.

M[is].Gou.No, weell be ill huswives once;105

You have oft been ill husbands: lets alone.

M. Bar.Wife, will you play so much?

Mis. Bar.I would be loath to be so franke a gaimsterAs mistresse Goursey is; and yet for onceIle play a pound a game aswell as she.110

Mis. Bar.I would be loath to be so franke a gaimster

As mistresse Goursey is; and yet for once

Ile play a pound a game aswell as she.110

M. Bar.Go to, youle have your will.Offer to goe from them.

Mis. Bar.Come, ther's my stake.

Mis. Gou.And ther's mine.

Mis. Bar.Throw for the dice. Ill luck! they are yours.

M. Bar.Master Goursey, who sayes that gamings bad,115When such good angels[1629]walke twixt every cast?

M. Bar.Master Goursey, who sayes that gamings bad,115

When such good angels[1629]walke twixt every cast?

M. Gou.This is not noble sport, but royall play.

M. Bar.It must be so where royals walke so fast.

Mis. Bar.Play right, I pray.

Mi. Gou.Why, so I doe.120

Mis. Bar.Where stands your man?

Mis. Gou.In his right place.

Mis. Bar.Good faith, I thinke ye play me foule an ace.

M. Bar.No, wife, she playes ye true.

Mis. Bar.Peace, husband, peace; ile not be judged by you.125

Mis. Gou.Husband, master Barnes, pray both goe walke;We cannot play, if standers by doe talke.

Mis. Gou.Husband, master Barnes, pray both goe walke;

We cannot play, if standers by doe talke.

M. Gou.Well, to your game; we will not trouble ye.[GourseyandBarnes]goe from them.

M. Gou.Well, to your game; we will not trouble ye.

[GourseyandBarnes]goe from them.

Mi. Gou.Where stands your man now?

Mi. Bar.Doth he not stand right?130

Mi. Gou.It stands betweene the pointes.

Mi. Bar.And thats my spight.But yet me thinkes the dice runnes much uneven,That I throw but dewes ase and you eleven.

Mi. Bar.And thats my spight.

But yet me thinkes the dice runnes much uneven,

That I throw but dewes ase and you eleven.

Mis. Gou.And yet you see that I cast downe the hill.135

Mi. Bar.I, I beshrew ye, tis not with my will.

Mis. Gou.Do ye beshrew me?

Mi. Bar.No, I beshrew the dice,That turne you up more at once then me at twise.

Mi. Bar.No, I beshrew the dice,

That turne you up more at once then me at twise.

Mi. Gou.Well, you shall see them turne for you anon.140

Mi. Bar.But I care not for them when your game is done.

Mi. Gou.My game! what game?

Mi. Bar.Your game, your game at tables.

Mi. Gou.Well, mistresse, well, I have red Æsops fables,And know your morrals meaning well enough.145

Mi. Gou.Well, mistresse, well, I have red Æsops fables,

And know your morrals meaning well enough.145

Mi. Bar.Loe, you'l be angry now! heres good stuffe.[Re-enterGourseyandBarnes.]

Mi. Bar.Loe, you'l be angry now! heres good stuffe.

[Re-enterGourseyandBarnes.]

M. Gour.How now, woman?[1630]who hath wonne the game?

Mi. Gou.No body yet.

M. Bar.Your wife's the fairest for't.[1631]

Mi. Bar.I, in your eye.150

Mi. Gou.How do you meane?

Mi. Bar.He holds you fairer for't then I.

Mi. Gou.For what, forsooth?

Mi. Bar.Good gamster, for your game.

M. Bar.Well, try it out; t'is all but in the bearing.[1632]155

Mi. Bar.Nay, if it come to bearing, shee'l be best.

Mi. Gou.Why you'r as good a bearer as the rest.

Mi. Bar.Nay, thats not so; you beare one man too many.

Mi. Gou.Better doe so then beare not any.

Mi. Ba.Beshrew me, but my wives jestes grow too bitter;160Plainer speeches for her were more [fit]ter:[1633]Malice lyes inbowelled in her tongue,And new hatcht hate makes every jest a wrong. [Aside.]

Mi. Ba.Beshrew me, but my wives jestes grow too bitter;160

Plainer speeches for her were more [fit]ter:[1633]

Malice lyes inbowelled in her tongue,

And new hatcht hate makes every jest a wrong. [Aside.]

Mi. Go.Looke ye, mistresse, now I hit yee.

Mi. Bar.Why, I, you never use to misse a blot,[1632]165Especially when it stands so faire to hit.

Mi. Bar.Why, I, you never use to misse a blot,[1632]165

Especially when it stands so faire to hit.

Mi. Gou.How meane ye, mistresse Barnes?

Mi. Ba.That mistresse Gourse's in the hitting vaine.

Mi. Gou.I hot[1634]your man.

Mi. Bar.I, I, my man, my man; but, had I knowne,170I would have had my man stood neerer home.

Mi. Bar.I, I, my man, my man; but, had I knowne,170

I would have had my man stood neerer home.

Mi. Gou.Why, had ye kept your man in his right place,I should not then have hit him with an ase.

Mi. Gou.Why, had ye kept your man in his right place,

I should not then have hit him with an ase.

Mis. Bar.Right, by the Lord! a plague upon the bones!

Mi. Gou.And a hot mischiefe on the curser too!175

M. Bar.How now, wife?

M. Gour.Why, whats the matter, woman?

Mi. Gou.It is no matter: I am——

Mis. Bar.I, you are——

Mi. Gou.What am I?180

Mis. Bar.Why, thats as you will be ever.

Mis. Gou.That's every day as good as Barneses wife.

Mi. Bar.And better too: then what needs al this trouble?A single horse is worse then that beares double.

Mi. Bar.And better too: then what needs al this trouble?

A single horse is worse then that beares double.

M. Bar.Wife, go to, have regard to that you say;185Let not your words passe foorth the vierge of reason,But keep within the bounds of modesty,For ill report doth like a bayliffe stand,To pound the straying and the wit-lost tongue,And makes it forfeit into follies hands.190Well, wife, you know tis[1635]no honest partTo entertaine such guests with jestes and wronges:What will the neighbring country vulgar say,When as they heare that you fell out at dinner?Forsooth,[1636]they'l call it a pot quarrell straight;195The best they'l name it, is a womans jangling.Go too, be rulde, be rulde.

M. Bar.Wife, go to, have regard to that you say;185

Let not your words passe foorth the vierge of reason,

But keep within the bounds of modesty,

For ill report doth like a bayliffe stand,

To pound the straying and the wit-lost tongue,

And makes it forfeit into follies hands.190

Well, wife, you know tis[1635]no honest part

To entertaine such guests with jestes and wronges:

What will the neighbring country vulgar say,

When as they heare that you fell out at dinner?

Forsooth,[1636]they'l call it a pot quarrell straight;195

The best they'l name it, is a womans jangling.

Go too, be rulde, be rulde.

Mi. Bar.Gods Lord, be rulde, be rulde!What, thinke ye I have such a babies wit,To have a rods correction for my tongue?200Schoole infancie; I am of age to speake,And I know when to speake: shall I be chidFor such a[1637]——

Mi. Bar.Gods Lord, be rulde, be rulde!

What, thinke ye I have such a babies wit,

To have a rods correction for my tongue?200

Schoole infancie; I am of age to speake,

And I know when to speake: shall I be chid

For such a[1637]——

Mi. Gou.What a? nay, mistresse, speake it out;I scorne your stopt compares: compare not me205To any but your equals, mistresse Barnes.

Mi. Gou.What a? nay, mistresse, speake it out;

I scorne your stopt compares: compare not me205

To any but your equals, mistresse Barnes.

M. Gou.Peace, wife, be quiet.

M. Bar.O, perswade, perswade!—Wife, mistresse Goursey, shall I winne your thoughtsTo composition of some kind effects?210Wife, if you love your credit, leave this strife,And come shake hands with mistresse Goursey heere.

M. Bar.O, perswade, perswade!—

Wife, mistresse Goursey, shall I winne your thoughts

To composition of some kind effects?210

Wife, if you love your credit, leave this strife,

And come shake hands with mistresse Goursey heere.

Mi. Ba.Shall I shake hands? let her go shake her heeles;She gets nor hands, nor friendship at my hands:And so, sir, while I live I will take heed,215What guests I bid againe unto my house.

Mi. Ba.Shall I shake hands? let her go shake her heeles;

She gets nor hands, nor friendship at my hands:

And so, sir, while I live I will take heed,215

What guests I bid againe unto my house.

M. Bar.Impatient woman, will you be so stiffeIn this absurdnes?[1638]

M. Bar.Impatient woman, will you be so stiffe

In this absurdnes?[1638]

Mi. Ba.I am impatient now I speake;But, sir, Ile tell you more another time:220Go too, I will not take it as I have done.Exit.

Mi. Ba.I am impatient now I speake;

But, sir, Ile tell you more another time:220

Go too, I will not take it as I have done.

Exit.

Mis. Gou.Nay, she might stay; I will not long be heereTo trouble her. Well, maister Barnes,I am sorry that it was our happes to day,To have our pleasures parted with this fray:225I am sorrie too for all that is amisse,Especially that you are moov'de in this.But be not so, tis but a womans jarre,Their tongues are weapons, words there blowes of warre.'Twas but a while we buffeted you saw,230And each of us was willing to withdraw;There was no harme nor bloudshed you did see:Tush, feare us not, for we shall well agree.I take my leave, sir.—Come, kinde harted man,That speakes his wife so faire, I, now and than;235I know you would not for an hundreth poundThat I should heare your voyces churlish sound;I know you have a farre more milder tuneThen 'Peace, be quiet, wife'; but I have done.Will ye go home? the doore directs the way;240But, if you will not, my dutie is to stay.[Exit.]

Mis. Gou.Nay, she might stay; I will not long be heere

To trouble her. Well, maister Barnes,

I am sorry that it was our happes to day,

To have our pleasures parted with this fray:225

I am sorrie too for all that is amisse,

Especially that you are moov'de in this.

But be not so, tis but a womans jarre,

Their tongues are weapons, words there blowes of warre.

'Twas but a while we buffeted you saw,230

And each of us was willing to withdraw;

There was no harme nor bloudshed you did see:

Tush, feare us not, for we shall well agree.

I take my leave, sir.—Come, kinde harted man,

That speakes his wife so faire, I, now and than;235

I know you would not for an hundreth pound

That I should heare your voyces churlish sound;

I know you have a farre more milder tune

Then 'Peace, be quiet, wife'; but I have done.

Will ye go home? the doore directs the way;240

But, if you will not, my dutie is to stay.

[Exit.]

M. Bar.Ha, ha! why, heres a right woman, is there not?They both have din'de, yet see what stomacks they have!

M. Bar.Ha, ha! why, heres a right woman, is there not?

They both have din'de, yet see what stomacks they have!

M. Gou.Well, maister Barnes, we cannot do with all:[1639]Let us be friends still.245

M. Gou.Well, maister Barnes, we cannot do with all:[1639]

Let us be friends still.245

M. Bar.O, maister Goursey, the mettell of our minds,Having the temper of true reason in them,Affoordes[1640]a better edge of argumentFor the maintaine of our familiar lovesThen the soft leaden wit of women can;250Wherefore with all the parts of neighbour loveI impart[1641]my selfe to maister Goursey.

M. Bar.O, maister Goursey, the mettell of our minds,

Having the temper of true reason in them,

Affoordes[1640]a better edge of argument

For the maintaine of our familiar loves

Then the soft leaden wit of women can;250

Wherefore with all the parts of neighbour love

I impart[1641]my selfe to maister Goursey.

M. Gou.And with exchange of love I do receive it:Then here weel part, partners of two curst wives.

M. Gou.And with exchange of love I do receive it:

Then here weel part, partners of two curst wives.

M. Ba.Oh, where shall wee find a man so blest that is not?[1642]But come; your businesse and my home affaires256Makes me deliver that unfriendly wordeMongst friends—farewell.[1643]

M. Ba.Oh, where shall wee find a man so blest that is not?[1642]

But come; your businesse and my home affaires256

Makes me deliver that unfriendly worde

Mongst friends—farewell.[1643]

M. Gou.Twentie farewels, sir.

M. Bar.But harke ye, maister Goursey;260Looke ye perswade at home as I will do:What, man! we must not alwayes have them foes.

M. Bar.But harke ye, maister Goursey;260

Looke ye perswade at home as I will do:

What, man! we must not alwayes have them foes.

M. Go.If I can helpe it.

M. Bar.God helpe, God helpe!Women are even untoward creatures still.265Exeunt.

M. Bar.God helpe, God helpe!

Women are even untoward creatures still.265

Exeunt.

EnterPhilip,Francis,and hisBoy,from bowling.

Phil.Come on, Franke Goursey: you have good lucke to winne the game.

Fran.Why, tell me, ist not good, that never playd before upon your greene?

Phil.Tis good, but that it cost me ten good crownes; that makes it worse.[1644]6

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