Prev | Current Page 75 | Next

Pope, Alexander, 1688-1744

"A Select Collection of Old English Plays, Volume 2"


CAREAWAY.
Help! save my life, masters, for the passion of Christ!
JACK JUGGLER.
Why, thou lousy thief, dost thou cry and roar?--
CAREAWAY.
No, faith, I woll not cry one whit more:
Save my life, help, or I am slain--
JACK JUGGLER.
Yea, dost thou make a rumouring yet again?
Did not I bid thee hold thy peace?--
CAREAWAY.
In faith, now I leave crying; now I cease: help, help!
JACK JUGGLER.
Who is thy master?
CAREAWAY.
Master Bongrace--
JACK JUGGLER.
I woll make thee change that song, ere we pass this place;
For he is my master, and again to thee I say,
That I am his Jenkin Careaway.
Who art thou? now tell me plain.
CAREAWAY.
Nobody but whom please you, certain--
JACK JUGGLER.
Thou saidest even now thy name was Careaway?
CAREAWAY.
I cry you mercy, sir, and forgiveness pray:
I said amiss, because it was so to-day;
And thought it should have continued alway,
Like a fool as I am and a drunken knave.
But in faith, sir, ye see all the wit I have,
Therefore I beseech you do me no more blame,
But give me a new master and another name.
For it would grieve my heart, so help me God,
To run about the streets like a masterless nod.[188]
JACK JUGGLER.
I am he that thou saidest thou were,
And Master Bongrace is my master, that dwelleth here;
Thou art no point, Careaway; thy wits do thee fail.
CAREAWAY.
Yea, marry, sir, you have beaten them down into my tail;
But, sir, might I be bold to say one thing
Without any blows and without any beating?
JACK JUGGLER.


Pages:
63 64 65 66 67 68 69 70 71 72 73 74 75 76 77 78 79 80 81 82 83 84 85 86 87