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HOST.
What the devil is that white thing? this same is a Church- yard, and I have heard that ghosts and villenous goblins have been seen here.
[Enter s.e.xton and Priest.]
PRIEST.
Gra.s.s and hay! O, that I could conjure! we saw a spirit here in the Church-yard; and in the fallow field there's the devil with a man's body upon his back in a white sheet.
s.e.xTON.
It may be a woman's body, Sir John.
PRIEST.
If she be a woman, the sheets d.a.m.n her; Lord bless us, what a night of mortality is this!
HOST.
Priest!
PRIEST.
Mine host!
HOST.
Did you not see a spirit all in white cross you at the stile?
s.e.xTON.
O no, mine host; but there sate one in the porch; I have not breath ynough left to bless me from the Devil.
HOST.
Who's that?
PRIEST.
The s.e.xton, almost frighted out of his wits. Did you see Banks or Smug?
HOST.
No, they are gone to Waltham, sure: I would fain hence; come, let's to my house: I'll ne'er serve the duke of Norfolk in this fas.h.i.+on again whilst I breath. If the devil be amongst us, tis time to hoist sail, and cry roomer. Keep together; s.e.xton, thou art secret, what? let's be comfortable one to Another.
PRIEST.
We are all mortal, mine host.
HOST.
True; and I'll serve G.o.d in the night hereafter afore the Duke of Norfolk.
[Exeunt.]
ACT V.
SCENE I. An Inn opposite the George, Waltham.
[Enter Sir Arthur Clare and Sir Ralph Jerningham, trussing their points as new up.]
SIR RAPH.
Good morrow, gentle knight.
A happy day after your short nights rest.
SIR ARTHUR.
Ha, ha, sir Raph, stirring so soon indeed?
Birlady, sir, rest would have done right well; Our riding late last night has made me drowsy.
Go to, go to, those days are gone with us.
SIR RAPH.
Sir Arthur, Sir Arthur, care go with those days, Let 'am even go together, let 'am go!
Tis time, yfaith, that we were in our graves, When Children leave obedience to their parents, When there's no fear of G.o.d, no care, no duty.
Well, well, nay, nay, it shall not do, it shall not; No, Mountchensey, thou'st hear on't, thou shalt, Thou shalt, yfaith!
I'll hang thy Son, if there be law in England.
A man's Child ravisht from a Nunry!
This is rare!
Well, well, there's one gone for Friar Hildersam.
SIR ARTHUR.
Nay, gentle Knight, do not vex thus, It will but hurt your health.
You cannot grieve more then I do, but to what end? But hark you, Sir Raph, I was about to say something--it makes no matter. But heark you in your ear: the Friar's a knave; but G.o.d forgive me, a man cannot tell neither; s'foot, I am so out of patience, I know not what to say.
SIR RAPH.
There's one went for the Friar an hour ago. Comes he not yet? s'foot, if I do find knavery unders cowl, I'll tickle him, I'll firk him. Here, here, he's here, he's here. Good morrow, Friar; good morrow, gentle Friar.
[Enter Hildersham.]
SIR ARHTUR.
Good morrow, father Hildersham, good morrow.
HILDERSHAM.
Good morrow, reverend Knights, unto you both.
SIR ARTHUR.
Father, how now? you hear how matters go; I am undone, my child is cast away.
You did your best, at least I think the best; But we are all crost; flatly, all is dasht.
HILDERSHAM.
Alas, good knights, how might the matter be?
Let me understand your grief for Charity.
SIR ARTHUR.
Who does not understand my griefs? Alas, alas!
And yet ye do not! Will the Church permit A nun in approbation of her habit To be ravished?
HILDERSHAM.
A holy woman, benedicite!
Now G.o.d forfend that any should presume To touch the sister of a holy house.
