Volume Vii Part 37 (1/2)

I cannot wield my weapons in my hand; Methinks I should not strike so fair a one, I think her beauty hath bewitch'd my force, Or else within me altered nature's course.

Ay, woman, wilt thou live in woods with me?

AMADINE. Fain would I live, yet loth to live in woods.

BREMO. Thon shalt not choose; it shall be as I say; And therefore follow me.

[_Exeunt.

Enter_ MUCEDORUS _solus_.

MUCEDORUS. It was my will an hour ago and more, As was my promise, for to make return; But other business hind'red my pretence.

It is a world to see, when man appoints, And purposely one certain thing decrees, How many things may hinder his intent.

What one would wish, the same is farthest off.

But yet th'appointed time cannot be past, Nor hath her presence yet prevented[180] me.

Well, here I'll stay, and expect the coming.

[_They cry within, Hold him, stay him, hold_!

MUCEDORUS. Some one or other is pursued, no doubt; Perhaps some search for me; 'tis good To doubt the worst, therefore I will be gone.

[_Exit.

Cry within, Hold him, hold him! Enter_ MOUSE, _the Clown, with a pot_.

CLOWN. Hold him, hold him, hold him! here's a stir indeed. Here came hue after the crier, and I was set close at mother Nip's house, and there I call'd for three pots of ale, as 'tis the manner of us courtiers.

Now, sirrah, I had taken the maidenhead of two of them--now, as I was lifting up the third to my mouth, there came, Hold him, hold him! Now I could not tell whom to catch hold on; but I am sure I caught one, perchance a may be in this pot. Well, I'll see. Ma.s.s, I cannot see him yet; well, I'll look a little further. Ma.s.s, he is a little slave, if a be here; why here's n.o.body. All this goes well yet; but if the old trot should come for her pot?--ay, marry, there's the matter. But I care not; I'll face her out, and call her old rusty, dusty, musty, fusty, crusty firebrand, and worse than all that, and so face her out of her pot. But soft! here she comes.

_Enter the_ OLD WOMAN.

OLD WOMAN. Come on, you knave; where's my pot, you knave?

CLOWN. Go, look your pot; come not to me for your pot, 'twere good for you.

OLD WOMAN. Thou liest, thou knave; thou hast my pot.

CLOWN. You lie, and you say it. I, your pot? I know what I'll say.

OLD WOMAN, Why, what wilt thou say?

CLOWN. But say I have him, and thou dar'st.

OLD WOMAN. Why, thou knave, thou hast not only my pot, but my drink unpaid for.

CLOWN. You lie like an old--I will not say wh.o.r.e.

OLD WOMAN. Dost thou call me wh.o.r.e? I'll cap thee for my pot.

CLOWN. Cap me, and thou darest; search me, whether I have it or no.

[_She searcheth him, and he drinketh over her head, and casts down the pot. She stumbleth at it, then they fall together by the ears; she takes her pot and goes out.