Part 4 (1/2)

But here comes Raymond, disconsolate and sad, And here's the gallant that must have the wench.

JERNINGHAM.

I pri'thee, Raymond, leave these solemn dumps: Revive thy spirits, thou that before hast been More watchful then the day-proclaiming c.o.c.k, As sportive as a Kid, as frank and merry As mirth herself.

If ought in me may thy content procure, It is thine own, thou mayst thy self a.s.sure.

RAYMOND.

Ha, Jerningham, if any but thy self Had spoke that word, it would have come as cold As the bleak Northern winds upon the face Of winter.

From thee they have some power upon my blood; Yet being from thee, had but that hollow sound Come from the lips of any living man, It might have won the credit of mine ear; From thee it cannot.

JERNINGHAM.

If I understand thee, I am a villain: What, dost thou speak in parables to thy friends?

CLARE.

Come, boy, and make me this same groning love, Troubled with st.i.tches and the cough a'th lungs, That wept his eyes out when he was a child, And ever since hath shot at hudman-blind, Make him leap, caper, jerk, and laugh, and sing, And play me horse-tricks; Make Cupid wanton as his mother's dove: But in this sort, boy, I would have thee love.

FABELL.

Why, how now, mad-cap? What, my l.u.s.ty Franke, So near a wife, and will not tell a friend?

But you will to this geere in hugger-mugger; Art thou turned miser, Rascall, in thy loves?

JERNINGHAM.

Who, I? z'blood, what should all you see in me, that I should look like a married man, ha? Am I bald? are my legs too little for my hose? If I feel any thing in my forehead, I am a villain: do I wear a night-cap? Do I bend in the hams?

What dost thou see in me, that I should be towards marriage, ha?

CLARE.

What, thou married? let me look upon thee, Rogue; who has given out this of thee? how camst thou into this ill name? What company hast thou been in, Rascall?

FABELL.

You are the man, sir, must have Millescent: The match is making in the garden now; Her jointure is agreed on, and th' old men, Your fathers, mean to lanch their busy bags; But in mean time to thrust Mountchensey off, For colour of this new intended match, Fair Millescent to Cheston must be sent, To take the approbation for a Nun.

Ne'er look upon me, lad, the match is done.

JERNINGHAM.

Raymond Mountchensey, now I touch thy grief With the true feeling of a zealous friend.

And as for fair and beauteous Millescent, With my vain breath I will not seek to slubber Her angel like perfections; but thou know'st That Ess.e.x hath the Saint that I adore.

Where ere did we meet thee and wanton springs, That like a wag thou hast not laught at me, And with regardless jesting mockt my love?

How many a sad and weary summer night My sighs have drunk the dew from off the earth, And I have taught the Niting-gale to wake, And from the meadows spring the early Lark An hour before she should have list to sing: I have loaded the poor minutes with my moans, That I have made the heavy slow pa.s.sed hours To hang like heavy clogs upon the day.

But, dear Mountchensey, had not my affection Seased on the beauty of another dame, Before I would wrong the chase, and overgive love Of one so worthy and so true a friend, I will abjure both beauty and her sight, And will in love become a counterfeit.

MOUNTCHENSEY.

Dear Jerningham, thou hast begot my life, And from the mouth of h.e.l.l, where now I sate, I feel my spirit rebound against the stars: Thou hast conquerd me, dear friend, in my free soul; Their time nor death can by their power controul.

FABELL.

Franke Jerningham, thou art a gallant boy; And were he not my pupil, I would say He were as fine a mettled gentleman, Of as free spirit, and of as fine a temper As is in England; and he is a man That very richly may deserve thy love.

But, n.o.ble Clare, this while of our discourse, What may Mounchensey's honour to thy self Exact upon the measure of thy grace?

CLARE.

Raymond Mounchensey, I would have thee know, He does not breath this air, Whose love I cherish, and whose soul I love More than Mounchensey's: Nor ever in my life did see the man Whom, for his wit and many vertuous parts, I think more worthy of my sister's love.