Prev | Current Page 87 | Next

Pope, Alexander, 1688-1744

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


MASTER BONGRACE.
Why, then, thou spakest not with my wife?
CAREAWAY.
No, that I did not, master, by my life,
Until that other I was gone,
And then my mistress sent me after anon,
To wait on you home in the devil's name:
I ween the devil never so beat his dame!
MASTER BONGRACE.
And where became that other Careaway?
CAREAWAY.
By mine honesty, sir, I cannot say;
But I warrant he is now not far hence;
He is here among this company, for forty pence.
MASTER BONGRACE.
Hence, at once seek and smell him out;
I shall rap thee on the lying knave's snout:
I woll not be deluded with such a glossing lie,
Nor give credence, till I see it with my own eye.
CAREAWAY.
Truly, good sir, by your mastership's favour,
I cannot well find a knave by the savour;
Many here smell strong, but none so rank as he:
A stronger-scented knave than he was cannot be.
But, sir, if he be haply found anon,
What amends shall I have for that you have me done?
MASTER BONGRACE.
If he may be found, I shall walk his coat.
CAREAWAY.
Yea, for our lady's sake, sir, I beseech you spare him not,
For it is some false knave withouten doubt.
I had rather than forty pence we could find him out;
For, if a man may believe a glass,
Even my very own self it was.
And here he was but even right now,
And stepped away suddenly, I wot not how.
Of such another thing I have neither heard ne seen,
By our blessed lady, heaven queen!
MASTER BONGRACE.


Pages:
75 76 77 78 79 80 81 82 83 84 85 86 87 88 89 90 91 92 93 94 95 96 97 98 99