The Life of Sir John Oldcastle [28]
a
bomination company of boys. A pox of this pigsty
at the house end: it fills all the house full of fleas.
Ostler! ostler!
[Enter Ostler.]
OSTLER.
Who calls there? what would you have?
CLUB.
Zwooks, do you rob your guests? do you lodge rogues
and slaves, and scoundrels, ha? they ha stolen our clothes
here: why, ostler!
OSTLER.
A murrein choke you, what a bawlin you keep.
[Enter Host.]
HOST.
How now, what would the carrier have? look up there.
OSTLER.
They say that the man and woman that lay by them have
stolen their clothes.
HOST.
What, are the strange folks up yet that come in yester night?
CONSTABLE.
What, mine host, up so early?
HOST.
What, master Mayor, and master Constable!
MAYOR.
We are come to seek for some suspected persons,
And such as here we found, have apprehended.
[Enter the Carrier and Kate in lord Cobham and ladies apparel.]
CONSTABLE.
Who comes here?
CLUB.
Who comes here? a plague found ome! you bawl, quoth a!
ods hat, I'll forzwear your house: you lodged a fellow and
his wife by that ha run away with our parrel, and left us such
gew-gaws here!--Come Kate, come to me, thowse dizeard,
yfaith.
MAYOR.
Mine host, know you this man?
HOST.
Yes, master Mayor, I'll give my word for him. Why, neighbor
Club, how comes this gear about?
KATE.
Now, a fowl ont, I can not make this gew-gaw stand on my
head: now the lads and the lasses won flout me too too--
CONSTABLE.
How came this man and woman thus attired?
HOST.
Here came a man and woman hither this last night, which I did
take for substantial people, and lodged all in one chamber by
these folks, me thinks, have been so bold to change apparel,
and gone away this morning ere they rose.
MAYOR.
That was that villain traitor, Old-castle, that thus escaped us:
make out hue and cry yet after him, keep fast that traitorous
rebel, his servant, there: farewell, mine host.
CARRIER.
Come, Kate Owdham, thou and Ise trimly dizard.
[Exeunt.]
ACT V. SCENE VIII. A wood near St. Albans.
[Enter sir John Old-castle, and his Lady disguised.]
COBHAM.
Come, Madam, happily escaped; here let us sit.
This place is far remote from any path,
And here awhile our weary limbs may rest,
To take refreshing, free from the pursuit
Of envious Rochester.
LADY COBHAM.
But where, my Lord,
Shall we find rest for our disquiet minds?
There dwell untamed thoughts that hardly stop,
To such abasement of disdained rags.
We were not wont to travel thus by night,
Especially on foot.
COBHAM.
No matter, love;
Extremities admit no better choice,
And were it not for thee, say froward time
Imposed a greater task, I would esteem it
As lightly as the wind that blows upon us;
But in thy sufference I am doubly tasked.
Thou wast not wont to have the earth thy stool,
Nor the moist dewy grass thy pillow, nor
Thy chamber to be the wide horizon.
LADY COBHAM.
How can it seem a trouble, having you
A partner with me in the worst I feel?
No, gentle Lord, your presence would give ease
To death it self, should he now seize upon me.
Behold what my foresight hath underta'en
[Here's bread and cheese & a bottle.]
For fear we faint; they are but homely cates,
Yet sauced with hunger, they may seem as sweet
As greater dainties we were wont to taste.
COBHAM.
Praise be to him whose plenty sends both this
And all things else our mortal bodies need;
Nor scorn we this poor feeding, nor the state
We now are in, for what is it on earth,
Nay, under heaven, continues at a stay?
Ebbs not the sea, when it hath overflown?
Follows not darkness when the day is gone?
And see we not sometime the eye of heaven
Dimmed with overflying clouds: there's not that work
Of careful nature, or of cunning art,
(How strong, how beauteous, or how rich it be)
But falls in time to ruin. Here, gentle Madame,
In this one draught I wash my sorrow down.
[Drinks.]
LADY COBHAM.
And I, encouraged with your cheerful speech,
Will do the like.
COBHAM.
Pray God poor Harpoole come.
If he should
bomination company of boys. A pox of this pigsty
at the house end: it fills all the house full of fleas.
Ostler! ostler!
[Enter Ostler.]
OSTLER.
Who calls there? what would you have?
CLUB.
Zwooks, do you rob your guests? do you lodge rogues
and slaves, and scoundrels, ha? they ha stolen our clothes
here: why, ostler!
OSTLER.
A murrein choke you, what a bawlin you keep.
[Enter Host.]
HOST.
How now, what would the carrier have? look up there.
OSTLER.
They say that the man and woman that lay by them have
stolen their clothes.
HOST.
What, are the strange folks up yet that come in yester night?
CONSTABLE.
What, mine host, up so early?
HOST.
What, master Mayor, and master Constable!
MAYOR.
We are come to seek for some suspected persons,
And such as here we found, have apprehended.
[Enter the Carrier and Kate in lord Cobham and ladies apparel.]
CONSTABLE.
Who comes here?
CLUB.
Who comes here? a plague found ome! you bawl, quoth a!
ods hat, I'll forzwear your house: you lodged a fellow and
his wife by that ha run away with our parrel, and left us such
gew-gaws here!--Come Kate, come to me, thowse dizeard,
yfaith.
MAYOR.
Mine host, know you this man?
HOST.
Yes, master Mayor, I'll give my word for him. Why, neighbor
Club, how comes this gear about?
KATE.
Now, a fowl ont, I can not make this gew-gaw stand on my
head: now the lads and the lasses won flout me too too--
CONSTABLE.
How came this man and woman thus attired?
HOST.
Here came a man and woman hither this last night, which I did
take for substantial people, and lodged all in one chamber by
these folks, me thinks, have been so bold to change apparel,
and gone away this morning ere they rose.
MAYOR.
That was that villain traitor, Old-castle, that thus escaped us:
make out hue and cry yet after him, keep fast that traitorous
rebel, his servant, there: farewell, mine host.
CARRIER.
Come, Kate Owdham, thou and Ise trimly dizard.
[Exeunt.]
ACT V. SCENE VIII. A wood near St. Albans.
[Enter sir John Old-castle, and his Lady disguised.]
COBHAM.
Come, Madam, happily escaped; here let us sit.
This place is far remote from any path,
And here awhile our weary limbs may rest,
To take refreshing, free from the pursuit
Of envious Rochester.
LADY COBHAM.
But where, my Lord,
Shall we find rest for our disquiet minds?
There dwell untamed thoughts that hardly stop,
To such abasement of disdained rags.
We were not wont to travel thus by night,
Especially on foot.
COBHAM.
No matter, love;
Extremities admit no better choice,
And were it not for thee, say froward time
Imposed a greater task, I would esteem it
As lightly as the wind that blows upon us;
But in thy sufference I am doubly tasked.
Thou wast not wont to have the earth thy stool,
Nor the moist dewy grass thy pillow, nor
Thy chamber to be the wide horizon.
LADY COBHAM.
How can it seem a trouble, having you
A partner with me in the worst I feel?
No, gentle Lord, your presence would give ease
To death it self, should he now seize upon me.
Behold what my foresight hath underta'en
[Here's bread and cheese & a bottle.]
For fear we faint; they are but homely cates,
Yet sauced with hunger, they may seem as sweet
As greater dainties we were wont to taste.
COBHAM.
Praise be to him whose plenty sends both this
And all things else our mortal bodies need;
Nor scorn we this poor feeding, nor the state
We now are in, for what is it on earth,
Nay, under heaven, continues at a stay?
Ebbs not the sea, when it hath overflown?
Follows not darkness when the day is gone?
And see we not sometime the eye of heaven
Dimmed with overflying clouds: there's not that work
Of careful nature, or of cunning art,
(How strong, how beauteous, or how rich it be)
But falls in time to ruin. Here, gentle Madame,
In this one draught I wash my sorrow down.
[Drinks.]
LADY COBHAM.
And I, encouraged with your cheerful speech,
Will do the like.
COBHAM.
Pray God poor Harpoole come.
If he should