ACT FIVE*
5.1
[Enter] CRASY, TRYMAN, PYANNET, TOBY.

768TrymanO* thou varlet, thou unconscionable unbeliever, ungodly miscreant! Hast thou cozened my easy credulity? And wouldst have undone and married me, like a cony-catching companion as thou art? Did’st not thou tell me thou hadst moderate means of life, friends of fashion, and civil reputation? And now this virtuous, religious gentlewoman tells me thou art an arrant skipjack.

769PyannetNay, and has not a hole to put thy head in but upon my courtesy.*

770TrymanBut I thank this matron’s worship,* her pity will not permit my easy nature to suffer under thy cozenage but bestows her generous son and heir here upon me....

771PyannetA gentleman of another sphere, another rank than you are, sirrah, that shall have three hundred* a* year in esse, and five* in posse.

772TrymanThat is acquainted with young lords, has had the honour to make a hunting match.

773TobyAye,* and a challenge to ride the wild goose chase.*

774TrymanThat hath made ladies posies* for cheese trenchers.

775TobyAnd played with countesses at shuttlecock.*

776TrymanAnd to this elegant spirit and choice hope am I, and my fortunes, contracted.

777CrasyHow! contracted?

778TrymanYes, sir, contracted. Look you, I dare seal it before your face.
[TRYMAN] kiss[es TOBY].

779CrasyAre you so?

780TobyShe is mine, sir, mine, sir. Do you mark? I dare likewise seal it, sir.
[TOBY] kiss[es TRYMAN].

781CrasyIs there honesty in this dealing?

782PyannetYes, sir. Is there not profit in this dealing?

783Crasy’Tis very well. If there be no law upon* words, oaths and precontracts and witness, if a man may spend a hundred angels* upon a widow, have her affied before witness, and then have his nose wiped of her,* why, ’tis very well.
TRYMAN takes PYANNET and TOBY aside.

784TrymanIn truth, dear heart and sweet mother in expectation,* to speak equally, there have some words of course* passed betwixt us which may seem to impart some engagement. Surely I have been too liberal of some speech of advantage.* Truly it would not be amiss, considering his expense and interest, to fall tosome slight composition.* Some hundred pounds* would make the poor knave do anything.

785TobyMother, let’s be wise. Let’s be wise, mother. Fetch a hundred pieces* presently, that even upon his first consent* he may be satisfied and silenced.

786TrymanFor if he chance but to be delayed till he ask counsel, then ...

787PyannetMum! A word to the wise...*Exit [PYANNET].

788CrasyNay, I hope, as long as I am a subject, I shall have law: I doubt not but I shall have law.

789TrymanCome, sir, you shall not deservedly exclaim* of my neglecting you. For our sometimes love, I have procured you a hun-dred pounds.

790CrasyTo disclaim my right in you, I’ll take’t. Here’s my hand, I’ll take it.

791TobyPox, how my mother stays.

792CrasyScorn my poverty! Come, where is’t? Because I have not the muck of the world.* Come, the money.
Enter PYANNET.

793PyannetHere, sir, upon this consideration, that you disclaim and renounce all interest ...

794CrasyYes, most freely.

795PyannetIn this gentlewoman, and do vow never to pretend future claim to her.

796CrasyI do, marry...

797TobyNay, no marries,* sir, you have received the money. You shall make no more marries here. Come, my betrothed spouse, bid a fico* for him. Say black’s thine eye* who dares. Mother, I’ll be married tonight and to bed presently.

798PyannetThis night, son? ’Tis very late.

799TobyNever too late to be wise. I hope I am your son and must bear a brain.

800PyannetIndeed, he that deals with woman must take occasion by the forelock.* Away...Exit [PYANNET, TOBY, TRYMAN].

801CrasyWhy! I am weary of money now. I have gotten more in a week’s cozenage than in all my days of honesty. What an easy cool thing it is to be a rich knave! Gramercy punk! A witty wench is an excellent help at a dead lift. But in despite of the justice that provoked me, my conscience a little turns at these brain tricks. But they have all been ungrateful, ungrateful! ’Tis a sin that should have no mercy, ’tis the plague-spot. Who has it should not live.
        If holy wisdom* from the thund’ring cloud*
        Had given more laws than ten,* this had ensued:
        Avoid, O man, man’s shame, ingratitude.
        For my poor lot, I could have sweetly slept
        In quiet want, with resolute content,
        Had not defect of wit, uncourteous scorn
        Been thrust upon me.* Now they all shall feel,
        When honest men revenge, their whips are steel
My courtiers are the next that I must exercise upon. This night my wife expects the embraces of one of them at least, if this hasty marriage call her not from her chamber. But she being a right woman may prevent that with a feigned* sickness or so. Let me remember, I wrote to Rufflit to come like* her Doctor Pulse-Feel, to minister to her. This will jump right with a counterfeit sickness. It may, perhaps, break a urinal about his coxcomb.   Music.   How now! O perceive this great wedding goes forward.
Music. Torches. [Enter] SARPEGO, TOBY and TRYMAN, SNEAKUP and LADY TICKET, PYANNET, JOSINA (in night attire),* BRIDGET. They pass as to the wedding with rosemary.* CRASY whispers [to] JOSINA. She takes leave of her mother, seeming to complain of being sick and so returns with BRIDGET. Then enter RUFFLIT like a doctor.*

802Crasy   [Aside]   So, this falls out pat. She is no sooner gone sick to her chamber but here comes her physician to cover and recover* her in a trice.

803RufflitHist, Footwell, Footwell!

804CrasySeignior* Rufflit! I am a fool if I took you not for a physician.

805RufflitShe* wrote to me that I should come in this habit.

806CrasyRight, sir, to avoid suspect,* for which cause she has counterfeited herself sick and lies longing and languishing till you minister to her.

807RufflitAnd am I come pat? am I come i’the nick?*

808CrasyYour fortune sings in the right clef,** sir, a wench as tender as a city pullet.

809RufflitBut not so rotten.*

810CrasyO sir, health itself, a very restorative. Will you in? The way lies open before you.*

811RufflitHold Footwell, tell that* till I return...   [RUFFLIT] gives [CRASY] money.   ... from branching the most merited cuckold, Crasy. Poor snake, that I must force thee to cast thy skin.* And he were not a citizen I could pity him.* He is undone for ever. Methinks I see him already make earnest suit to wear a red cap and a blue gown;* comely to carry a staff-torch before my Lord Mayor* upon All Hallow's Even* night. Watch, Footwell, I mount... *Exit [RUFFLIT].

812CrasyBut now, if the agitation of my brains should work through my brows.* If my wife’s pitiful hand should fall to composition* with my doctor’s pate and my deceit be discovered before the bastinado had given charge to his shoulders, were not my forehead in apparent danger?* ’Tis done in three minutes.* Death, my courtier has a sanguine complexion. He is like a cock sparrow,* chit, chit,* and away. Heart o’ man! And I should be blown up in mine own mine* now! Ha!

813Rufflit within.*Hold Mistress Crasy! Dear Bridget! Help Footwell!

814CrasyHo, the hubbub’s raised and my fear’s vanished.
Enter JOSINA and BRIDGET beating RUFFLIT.
CRASY takes BRIDGET’s cudgel and lays on.

815JosinaOut you pisspot-caster!*

816BridgetYou suppository!

817JosinaYou glister-pipe, think’st to dishonest* me?

818RufflitHold, dear lady .. I am ...

819JosinaA stinking, saucy rascal thou art. Take this remembrance.Exit [JOSINA and BRIDGET].*

820CrasyHold, sweet mistress.

821RufflitO, I thank you, good Master Footwell.

822CrasyO, it is not so much worth verily.

823RufflitO, but ’tis, sir.*
[RUFFLIT] draws his sword from under his gown. CRASY closes with and disarms him.

Rogue. Rogue. Nay prithee, sweet rascal, pox on you, I did not mean to hurt you. My honest vagabond, tell me, tell me; come, who was’t put this trick upon me? Thou art a precious villain! Come, whose device was it? Whose plot? At whose suit was I cudgelled? Who made me feign myself a physician till I must be forced to go to the surgeon?* And dare’st tell me?

824CrasyNay, then I will tell you. Dare! why ’twas your friend and rival, Sir Andrew Ticket.

825RufflitTicket!

826CrasyEven he, sir. His gold hired me to gull you. And this brain procured your beating. Yes, faith, sir, envy, bribes and wit have wrong upon you.*

827RufflitWell, if I revenge not ...

828CrasyBut how, sir?

829RufflitAye,* afore heaven, that’s well thought on. Give me but the means and I will not only forgive but reward thee richly.

830CrasyCome, faith, because I would have both your shoulders go in one livery,* I must disclose.* Why, sir, knavery is restorative to me, as spiders to monkeys.* The poison of wit feeds me.*
Enter TICKET [and a] BOY with a torch.*

   [To RUFFLIT]   Look you, sir, he’s come. Stand close,* take this cudgel, grasp it strongly, stretch your sinews lustily, and when you see him hang by the middle in a rope,* let your fist fall thick and your cudgel nimbly.

831RufflitAnd soundly. My ambitious blows* shall strive which shall go foremost.

832CrasyGood, sir.*

833RufflitDraw him up but half way.

834CrasySo, sir, I must up to receive...

835RufflitDo so.   Exit* [CRASY].   I shall be so revenged now! He had been better ha’ been taken in bed with another man’s wife than have prevented me thus.

836Ticket   [To BOY]   Vanish, sirrah, with the light.   [Exit BOY]*   This I am sure is the window, which her letters called me to.

837Rufflit   [Aside]   I would you would begin once* that I might be at work. I do not love to stand idle in the cold thus.

838TicketHist, Footwell, Footwell!

839Crasy above*Here sir, here. O I watched* to do you a good turn. Will you mount,* sir?

840TicketI will mount, remount, and surmount.* I wonder that there is not a solemn statute made that no citizen should marry a handsome woman, or, if he did, not to lie with her. For and ’twere not for gallants’ help, they would beget nothing but fools.*
CRASY lets down a rope.

841CrasyRight sir, right sir. Take the rope and fasten it about your middle, sir.

842Ticket   [TICKET ties the rope around his waist]   Why, that’s Crasy,* a very coxcomb.

843CrasyAn ass, an ass!

844TicketA mere citizen. Were’t not a shame his wife should be honest? Or is’t not pity that my own man* should wholly enjoy a rare, excellent, proper woman, when a whole corporation* scarce affords two of them.

845CrasyMost true, sir. Now mount, sir. I* pluck courageously. Pray Hercules* my strength fail me not.*

846RufflitUp sir, up sir.   RUFFLIT cudgels him.   

847TicketPox and pain! Hold, doctor!

848RufflitSave you,* sir.

849TicketI am most sensible of your salutation. Pluck,* Footwell!

850CrasyAlas, the cord sticks, sir. I’ll call some help, sir.
CRASY comes down

851TicketDeath and devils!

852RufflitFists and cudgels!

853TicketHeart, lungs, lights!*

854RufflitArms, shoulders, sides!

855TicketHelp, help, help!
Enter CRASY.

856CrasyPassion of Heaven,* Doctor! I’ll doctor you away.*Exit RUFFLIT.

857TicketRedeem me, dear Footwell.

858Crasy*Yes sir, I come for the same purpose. Alas sir, methinks I even feel your blows. Are you not sore, sir?

859TicketSore? Could’st thou not pluck?

860CrasySure I was planet-struck! The rope stuck in a slit,* sir.

861TicketA pox o’the slit, say I.

862CrasyKnow you this mad doctor? Or do you owe any doctor anything?

863TicketI know him not nor do I owe any doctor anything. I only owe my barber-surgeon for a diet drink.

864CrasySpeedily make up your face,* sir, here comes company!
Ent[er] RUFFLIT in his own shape.*

Master Rufflit!

865RufflitHonest Footwell! how dost? Sir Andrew! Heartily how is’t? ...
[RUFFLIT] hugs and shakes* [TICKET].

866TicketAs heartily as thou wilt, but not so hard, I prithee.

867RufflitWhy, what’s the matter?

868TicketI bruised my side e’en now against a form’s edge.

869RufflitSpermaceti, sir, is very good, or the fresh skin of a flayed* cat.

870TicketFlayed cat?

871RufflitThe fly-blows of a dead dog made into oil and spread upon the caul* of a meazell hog.
Music.

872CrasyHark, gentlemen, the wedding comes. Forget old bruises and put on sense of the lightest colour,* for this house tonight vows to run giddy with mirth and laughter.
Enter [bearing] lights* SARPEGO, TOBY, TRYMAN, LADY TICKET, PYANNET, SNEAKUP.

873RufflitJoy, health, love and children to this happy union!

874TicketUnbruised bones and smooth foreheads* to you both.

875PyannetWhat, shall no device, no mirth solemnize my son’s match? Go Sneakup, call down our daughter.   [Exit SNEAKUP.]   In despite of sickness, mirth and joy shall make this night healthful.

876TrymanO mother,* cold sobriety and modest melancholy becomes the face of the matron. Unedifying gauds are profane vanities. Mirth is the fat* of fools; only virtue is the nourishment of purity and unsinning sincerity.

877PyannetBy the leave of your wisdom, daughter, we’ll take the wall* of your preciseness: for Master Sarpego has told me of a learned subject for a ballet,* which we shall see acted presently.

878TrymanWhat is it? some heathenish play?

879SarpegoNo certes, but a very religious dialogue, full of nothing but moral conceits betwixt Lady Luxury, a prodigal, and a fool.

880TrymanBut who should act and personate these?

881SarpegoWhy in that lies the nobility of the device; it should be done after the fashion of Italy,* by ourselves, only the plot premeditated to what our aim must tend.* Marry the speeches must be extempore. Mistress Bride would I have to play Dame Luxury, and Master Footwell here the prodigal.

882PyannetAnd my husband, the fool.
Enter SNEAKUP, JOSINA and BRIDGET.

883SneakupAye,* and’t please you, wife.

884SarpegoI’ll play the Inductor,* and then we are all fitted.

885TrymanI pray you what is Lady Luxury? A woman regenerative?*

886TobyA whore, wife!

887SarpegoIn sincerity not much better than a courtesan,* a kind of open* creature.

888TrymanAnd do you think me fit to represent an open creature? Saving your modesties,* a whore! Can I play the strumpet, think ye?

889JosinaTrust me, sister, as long as it is done in private, in one’s own house and for some few selected gentlemen’s pleasure, methinks the part is not altogether the displeasingst.

890TrymanModesty defend me! you think ’tis nothing to play the strumpet?

891SarpegoWhy surely, religious lady, it can be no disgrace to you to figure out the part. For she that cannot play the strumpet if she would, can claim no great honour to be chaste.*

892BridgetHow gravely and sententiously he speaks.*

893TobyWife, it shall be so. It is my first injunction. You shall do it or disobey me. You must play it.

894TrymanWhat, the whore, sir?

895TobyAye,* in jest. What hurt is’t? And mother, you shall excuse my father for this once, for, since my wife plays the whore, I’ll play the fool myself. Though I know you had rather see him do it, you shall see, for a need, I can make shift to perform it as well as he, as naturally* and to the life.

896SarpegoExceeding well thought on. I pray you, lady, approve of it.

897PyannetLet learning direct;* I am not to prescribe to the Muses.*

898TobyCome, sweetheart, let’s in and tire us and be ready to enter presently.

899SarpegoI fausto pede ...*   Exit TOBY, TRYMAN    Now for the prodigal.

900CrasyO doubt not, Master Sarpego. For know, sir, I am but a poor serving creature that lives upon expectation.* O sir my end must be husks.* Fear not my discharge of the prodigal...*Exit [CRASY].

901SarpegoNil nisi Carmina desunt.*
        To entertain ye while we attire ourselves.
        We want but now some music or a song,*
        But think you have it. Sit: we’ll not be long....Exit [SARPEGO].

902PyannetSeat you gallants. Sit, sweet Sir Andrew, Madam, and the rest, and we’ll imagine music as Master Sarpego bids us.*
Enter LINSY-WOLSEY, and CRACK with his lute.

How now! By what misrule* comes he to trouble us?

903Linsy-WolseyBy your leave, gallants, I have brought you music.

904PyannetYou sir, I know your purpose and it is prevented. You come after the marriage to forbid the bans. Ha ha ha ... you are short, Master Wolsey, you are short.

905Linsy-WolseyGood Mistress Sneakup, you are wide. I come to wish joy to the match and to tell you I rejoice that I missed a bridegroom’s part.*

906PyannetHow’s that?

907Linsy-WolseyYou see I wear no willow* and am merry.   [Aside to CRACK]    All’s true you told me, boy?

908Crack   [Aside to LINSY-WOLSEY]   Yes, by my detestation to Bridewell, sir.

909Linsy-WolseySing, boy, that song. If I have any grief, it shall be all vented in a Hymeneal* song.

910TicketI have not known him in this humour.

911RufflitSure ’tis a merry madness for the loss of the widow.

912PyannetSince you come friendly, you are welcome, Master Wolsey. Pray sit with us and hear your Hymeneal song.
Crack sings.

914CrackIo Hymen,* Io Hymen, Io Hymen

PyannetThis begins well.

914CrackWas wont to be still the old song
        At high nuptial feasts
        Where the merry, merry guests
        With joy and good wishes did throng.
        But to this new wedding new notes do I bring,
        To rail at thee Hymen while sadly I sing.
        Fie O Hymen, fie O Hymen, fie O Hymen,
        What hands and what hearts dost thou knit?
        A widow that’s poor,
        And a very, very whore,
        To an heir that wants nothing but wit.
        Yet thus far, O Hymen, thy answer is made:
        When his means are spent, they may live by her trade.*

915PyannetHe sings ’Hymen’ and ’Hymen’ but methinks the song is scandalous to the marriage.*

916Linsy-WolseyExcuse me, lady, though I was cozened of the bride, I have no such malice. ’Tis a song that the boy could sing by chance and made by a couple that were lately married in Crooked Lane.*

917PyannetO is it so, sir? I knew not what to make of it.
Flourish. Enter SARPEGO, the prolocutor.*

918TicketLet us attend I pray. The Prologue enters.

919SarpegoRight country dame and courtly lady,*
        Look for sense as small as may be.
        But, if wit deceive your thinkings
        Know our muse disdains base shrinkings.*
        Hold a while your verdict’s bridle,*
        Judge not yet our project idle,
        Till at length the close may show it,*
        If we act the part of poet.
Enter TRYMAN and TOBY. [TRYMAN] loosely dressed like a courtesan,* a bowl of wine* in her hand; [TOBY] in a fool’s cap and coat.*

        Speak Lechery and Folly, Luxury I would say.*
        I need not prompt* them, they know what they
        should say.

920TrymanOut you base rascal, you muddy* slave! thou* hast married me and I will drink a health to thy cuckoldmaker...*
[TRYMAN] drinks [the bowl of wine] off

921Toby’Sfoot I am afraid she’ll play the whore better than I shall act the fool.

922TrymanThou under-hearted,* dull-blooded* pantaloon!* Thou whose utmost honour is to be made so good a thing as a cuckold! Thou son of a copyholder* and the pudding-pie woman’s daughter,* dost thou think, dar’st thou but imagine, that I shall ever vouchsafe to love to do anything but laugh at thee?* Hence, you poltroon! Thy voice sounds not so far as thy breath stinks...*[TRYMAN] Kicks [TOBY].

923TobyNay but, nay but, do you hear, wife? I do not very well like this. Methinks you play too much in earnest.

924TrymanIn earnest? Why goodman* fool, you coxcomb, you ninnyhammer, you clotpold* country gentleman,* thou dirty greediness....*

925PyannetWhy how now, daughter?* Are you well? Methinks you overdo it too much.

926TrymanThou dreamest, my good husband, that thou hast married the rich widow, ha ha ha ...

927SarpegoNow enters Prodigality.
Enter CRASY in his own habit,* all hung with* chains,* jewels, bags of money, etc.

928CrasyWhen the truth is, dear brother, you have married the rank* whore. Ha ha ha!

929TobySir! ... who, brother Crasy?

930JosinaSweet husband!

931PyannetDear son!

932Ticket, RufflitPrecious friend!

933Linsy-WolseyNeighbour Crasy!

934SarpegoDii boni!* Domine* Crasy!

935CrasyAnd how do you wife? When comes your doctor Pulse-Feel? But a kiss and so forth?* And would not one of these free gallants, these proper* youths have served the turn? I pray pardon mine incivility, mother;* I was bold to retain mine own jewels. Ha’ you not forgot your singles and your doubles, your fallings back, and your turnings up,* wife?

936JosinaWhy i’faith, dear heart, dost think me so simple that I did not know thee all the while?* Alas man, I did but counterfeit,* as you did, to maintain the jest. Kiss me, sweet duck ...* only to maintain the jest i’faith.

937CrasyYes, yes, yes, we are friends. I heartily thank these kind gentlemen for their loves to you, yes faith, heartily. I am better by it five hundred* at least.   [To LADY TICKET]   Be not you jealous, madam, they had nothing for it,* not a bit, by this light.*

938RufflitDeath o’ my fortune! That was my gold.

939TicketPlague of a villain, that was my jewel.

940CrasyTrue, gentlemen, and your bounty likewise lies in this bag.

941Ticket*Sir, we sent these things to your wife.

942CrasyI thank you for it. We have but one capacity in the law,* you know. What’s hers must be mine.   [To JOSINA]*   I know thou would’st have it so, sweetheart.   [To RUFFLIT and TICKET]   I am only sorry, gentlemen, that you were so well favouredly beaten. That the fool citizen, the ass citizen, the cuckold citizen should procure such a sound swaddling to your wise, valiant and substantial shoulders. Is’t not a sore matter? But rest, salves and warm oils may in time recover it.   [To PYANNET]   How do you, kind mother?   [To RUFFLIT, TICKET, TOBY]   Gentlemen, if any of you want money, gentlemen, here stands a city wit* that has it. I have it, if you want any. Speak, I have it, and will keep it.   [To RUFFLIT]   How does your costard, sir?   [To TICKET]   A pox o’th’ slit,* sir.    [To SARPEGO]*   Beloved of PhÅ“bus,* minion of the muses, dear water-bayley of Helicon,* be not proud of your preferment, though you are his Highness’ tutor.   [To PYANNET]   Mother, I take the restoring of my rich jewels very kindly.   [To TOBY]   O my kind brother, you have got the rich widow,   [To PYANNET]   and you have borne a brain,* mother.   [To TOBY]   Your hundred pound,* brother, was most thriftily and opportunely bestowed.   [To PYANNET]   I could ha’ procured her to you at an easier rate, mother.   [To LINSY-WOLSEY]   I am only sorry for you Master Wolsey, that you had her not, because you very honourably released me of your bond before it was due and are in shrewd danger to be laughed at among your neighbours.*   [To SNEAKUP]   How does good Master Crasy, the prince’s jeweller?   [To PYANNET]   Mother, did not my father look too wise for a citizen?   [To TRYMAN]   How dost, honest punk? I am as much beholden to thee as to the rest o’ them.

943PyannetMy son and my heir is utterly undone.

944TobyO! I am quite cast away.

945CrasyO no, you shall be no loser by me. You shall be a gainer by me, brother. Get wit, brother, mark you, wit.* Good faith I pity the poor citizen, he has no wit; a handsome young fellow with a pretty beard and a proper bodied woman to his wife and cannot bear a brain!*

946TrymanWhy dost hear, modestly mumping mother-in-law, with thy French-hood,* gold chain, and flagon-bracelets, advance thy snout.* If the fool, thy son, the idiot my husband here, have but as much brains as a battledore, he may make a fair revenue of me. Has he not a place at court? Can he not lodge me there and prove weak-sighted, thick of hearing, sleepy after dinner, and snort* when others entertain and court me? Can he not survey the hangings,* read Cupid’s Cony-burrow,* The Park of Pleasure, Christian Love-Letters, or some other pamphlet, or feign some errand into the town whilst his brows are turning into gold?*

947PyannetO impudence beyond woman’s apprehension! Son Crasy, we have all wronged thee, thou know’st it. Thou hast revenged it, we feel it, only do not undo my heir. Save him, bring him but off o’this match with any loss.*

948CrasyWhy mother, is your son grown such a saucy knave as he thinks scorn to* be a cuckold? I cannot clear him. In truth I cannot. He has paid for her deeply and ’tis pity they should be parted, yes faith is’t.

949PyannetWoman, we do pray thee, we do beseech thee, even upon our knees ...   PY[ANNET] and TOB[Y] kneel.   Have pity on the house of the Sneakups. Quit my son, relinquish thy right, make frustrate this marriage* and, look thee, before these able witnesses, we heartily forgive all, and forget, and withal, freely bestow this chain upon thee ...
[[PYANNET] pulls off her chain and gives it [to TRYMAN]]

950TrymanI do receive it.

951TobyShe does receive it. Bear witness all, she does receive it.

952TrymanMarry, on this condition ...

953TobyNo. I’ll no more marries* nor conditions. You have received it.

954PyannetAye,* you must make frustrate the marriage. For, look you, you have received it.

955TrymanI will, and freely do. Only the condition I would have made is this: that if you intend longer to be master of your husband, now that you have seen how well it became me, you will henceforward do as I do ... look you, wear breeches.   [TRYMAN] pulls the coats* up and shows the breeches   

956PyannetO horrible!*

957TobyHow! do you wear breeches?

958TrymanYes, sir,* breeches, and as good lining and stuffing* in them, I hope, as yours have, though they be of satin.*

959TobyI’ll feel that.   [TOBY feels TRYMAN'S crutch]   ’Sfoot, mother, this is a man. Come and feel else.*

960TrymanA young one, sir.   [[TRYMAN / JEREMY] puts off his headdress.]*   See, master,* your poor servant Jeremy, if he has performed his part, desires to be admitted into the livery of wit* and to wear this chain as his ensign of freedom.*

961AllJeremy!

962TobyJeremy! O Jeremy! thou wert ever too hard for ...*

963Jeremy*Except at spoon-meat, sir.*

964JosinaJeremy!

965JeremyYes, mistress, indeed, forsooth.*

966Crasy   [To JEREMY]   Well, give me thy hand. I will love thee* as long as there is swiftness in meditation, smoothness in flattery or constancy in malice.*

967PyannetAnd for the cure* that he* has wrought on me,
        I will applaud his wit and bless the light
        It gave me to discover my foul error,
        Which by his demonstration showed so monstrous,
        That I must loathe myself,* till I be purged.
           [To SNEAKUP]   Sir, by your fair forgiveness, which I kneel for ...
[PYANNET kneels]*

968SneakupHeaven make me thankful. Wife, I have no
        words
        To show how I rejoice. Rise, let me kiss thee ...
[PYANNET rises and she and SNEAKUP kiss]*

969SarpegoTempora mutantur.* The town’s ours again.
           [To BRIDGET]   Only, to fill the scene with joy, may we
        Conjoin, sweet maid, in the catastrophe.

970BridgetWould you that have taught Greek, and whipped great boys, come back to your horn-book, and let down your gaskins* to me, that would, if I had you, be more tyrannous than any pedant that ever reigned since the days of Dionysius?* Besides here is my choice, with my master and mistress’s leave,   [pointing at CRACK]    Jeremy’s brother.*

971Crasy   [To JEREMY]   But is he seriously thy brother?

972JeremyYes, and no more a pimp, sir, than I am a wench.

973CrasyWell, Master Sarpego, I’ll help you to a fitter match, and Crack, I will give thee something* with her. Take the security of my hand.*

974CrackI only desire to be secure from this man’s* fury and so consequently from Bridewell.*

975CrasyHe shall have nothing to say to thee.

976Linsy-WolseyI will have nothing to say to man, woman, or child, while I live again.*

977SarpegoFortuna nihil aufert sapienti:* fools and fiddlers are her favourites.

978CrasyLet us make this a merry night.
        Think of no losses. Sirs, you shall have none,*
        My honest care being but to keep mine own.*
        What, by my slights, I got more than my due,
        I timely will restore again to you.*

979AllThanks, kind Master Crasy, thanks.

980SarpegoGratias vel ingentes, Domine Crasy.*


Epilogue.*


981EpilogueNow let me scholasticwise*
        For us all epiloguise:*
        If these slender scenes of wit
        Are received, as they were writ,
        For your mirth and no offence,
        Let your grace quit our suspense*
        With applaused catastrophe.*
        I am short, w’ye* (as you see)
        There a figure, which pray note ye,
        Sic valete valetote.*
        Gratias reddo cuicunque.*
        Valetote iterumque.*

THE END.

Edited by Elizabeth Schafer