Volume Viii Part 87 (1/2)

[_Exit_ MARIAN.

NAN. I wonder what my mistress is about?

Somewhat she would not have my master know: Whate'er it be, 'tis nothing unto me; She's my good mistress, and I'll keep her counsel.

I have oft seen her kiss behind his back, And laugh and toy, when he did little think it.

O, what a winking eye the wanton hath To cosen him, even when he looks upon her!

But what have I to do with what she doth?

I'll taste her junkets since I am alone: That which is good for them cannot hurt me.

Ay, marry, this is sweet! a cup of wine Will not be hurtful for digestion.

[_She drinks_.]

_Enter_ CASTILIANO.

CAS. I would I had been wiser once to-day; I went on purpose to my Lord of Kent To give him some good counsel for his wife, And he, poor heart, no sooner heard my news, But turns me up his whites, and falls flat down: There I was fain to rub and chafe his veins, And much ado we had to get him live.

But for all that he is extremely sick, And I am come in all the haste I may For cordials to keep the earl alive.

But how now? What, a banquet! What means this?

NAN. Alas! my master is come home himself.

Mistress, mistress! my master is come home!

CAS. Peace, you young strumpet, or I'll stop your speech!

[_He stops her mouth_.

Come hither, maid: tell me, and tell me true, What means this banquet? what's your mistress doing?

Why call'dst[457] thou out, when as thou saw'st me coming?

Tell me, or else I'll hang thee by the heels, And whip thee naked. Come on, what's the matter?

NAN. Forsooth, I cannot tell.

CAS. Can you not tell? come on, I'll make you tell me.

NAN. O master! I will tell you.

CAS. Then say on.

NAN. Nothing, in truth, forsooth, but that she means To have a gentleman come drink with her.

CAS. What gentleman?

NAN. Forsooth, 'tis Master Forrest, as I think.

CAS. Forrest? nay then I know how the game goeth: Whoever loseth, I am sure to win By their great kindness, though't be but the horns.

_Enter_ FORREST _at one door_, MARIAN _at another_.

But here comes he and she. Come hither, maid: Upon thy life, give not a word, a look, That she may know aught of my being here.

Stand still, and do whate'er she bids thee do.

Go, get thee gone; but if thou dost betray me, I'll cut thy throat: look to it, for I will do it.

I'll stand here close to see the end of this, And see what rakes she keeps, when I'm abroad.

[CASTILIANO _conceals himself_.]