Part 7 (1/2)

_Thos_. That she had succeeded so well in her art.

_Fath_. Thou hast hit it again! The jade must have been born a sempstress! If ever I marry, she shall work for my wife. The gown was the same gown, and there was my mistress's twentieth mood!

_Thos_. What think you will Master Walter say when he comes back? I fear he'll hardly know his country maid again. Has she yet fixed her wedding-day?

_Fath_. She has, Master Thomas. I coaxed it from her maid. She marries, Monday week.

_Thos_. Comes not Master Walter back to-day?

_Fath_. Your master expects him. [A ringing.] Perhaps that's he. I prithee go and open the door; do, Master Thomas, do; for proves it my master, he'll surely question me.

_Thos_. And what should I do?

_Fath_. Answer him, Master Thomas, and make him none the wiser. He'll go mad, when he learns how my lady flaunts it! Go! open the door, I prithee. Fifty things, Master Thomas, know you, for one thing that I know! You can turn and twist a matter into any other kind of matter; and then twist and turn it back again, if needs be; so much you servants of the town beat us of the country, Master Thomas. Open the door, now; do, Master Thomas, do!

[They go out.]

SCENE II.--A Garden with two Arbours.

[Enter MASTER HEARTWELL and MASTER WALTER meeting.]

_Heart_. Good Master Walter, welcome back again!

_Wal_. I'm glad to see you, Master Heartwell!

_Heart_. How, I pray you, sped the mighty business which So sudden called you hence?

_Wal_. Weighty, indeed!

What thou wouldst ne'er expect--wilt scarce believe!

Long-hidden wrong, wondrously come to light, And great right done! But more of this anon.

Now of my ward discourse! Likes she the town?

How does she? Is she well? Canst match me her Among your city maids?

_Heart_. Nor court ones neither!

She far outstrips them all!

_Wal_. I knew she would.

What else could follow in a maid so bred?

A pure mind, Master Heartwell!--not a taint From intercourse with the distempered town; With which all contact was walled out, until, Matured in soundness, I could trust her to it, And sleep amidst infection!

_Heart_. Master Walter!

_Wal_. Well?

_Heart_. Tell me, prithee, which is likelier To plough a sea in safety?--he that's wont To sail in it,--or he that by the chart Is master of its soundings, bearings,--knows Is headlands, havens, currents--where 'tis bold, And where behoves to keep a good look-out.

The one will swim, where sinks the other one?

_Wal_. The drift of this?