A Select Collection of Old English Plays - LightNovelsOnl.com
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DALILAH. What can ye say by Master Iniquity?
I love him and his name most heartily.
INIQUITY. G.o.d-a-mercy, Dalilah, good luck, I warrant thee, I will shrive you both by and by.
[_He kisseth her_.
ISMAEL. Come on, but first let us have a song.
DALILAH. I am content, so that it be not long.
[_Iniquity and Dalilah sing_:
INIQUITY. _Gold locks, She must have knocks, Or else I do her wrong_.
DALILAH. _When ye have your will Ye were best lie still, The winter nights be long_.
INIQUITY. _When I ne may, Another a.s.say; I will take it for no wrong_:
DALILAH. _Then, by the rood, A bone in your hood I shall put, ere it be long_.
ISMAEL. She matcheth you, sirrah!
INIQUITY. By Gog's blood, she is the best wh.o.r.e in England.
DALILAH. It is knavishly praised; give me your hand.
INIQUITY. I would thou hadst such another.
ISMAEL. By the ma.s.s, rather than forty pound, brother.
INIQUITY. Here, sirs, come on; seven--[_They set him_.
Eleven[225] at all[226]--
ISMAEL. Do ye nick us?[227] beknave your noly!--
INIQUITY. Ten mine--
ISMAEL (_casteth dice_). Six mine, Have at it, and it were for all my father's kine.
It is lost by his wounds,[228] and ten to one!
INIQUITY. Take the dice, Dalilah, cast on-- [_She casteth, and they set_.
DALILAH. Come on; five!
Thrive at fairest--
ISMAEL. Gup, wh.o.r.e, and I at rest [_he loseth_].
By Gog's blood, I ween G.o.d and the devil be against me--
INIQUITY. If th' one forsake thee, th' other will take thee!
ISMAEL. Then is he a good fellow; I would not pa.s.s,[229]
So that I might bear a rule in h.e.l.l, by the ma.s.s: To toss firebrands at these pennyfathers'[230] pates; I would be porter, and receive them at the gates.
In boiling lead and brimstone I would seeth them each one: The knaves have all the money, good fellows have none.
DALILAH. Play, brother, have ye lost all your money now?
ISMAEL. Yea, I thank that knave and such a wh.o.r.e as thou.
'Tis no matter, I will have money, or I will sweat; By Gog's blood, I will rob the next I meet-- Yea, and it be my father.
[_He goeth out_.
INIQUITY. Thou boy, by the ma.s.s, ye will climb the ladder, Ah, sirrah, I love a wench that can be wily, She perceived my mind with a twink of mine eye, If we two play boody on any man, We will make him as bare as Job anon, Well, Dalilah, let see what ye have won.
[_They tell_.
DALILAH. Sir, I had ten s.h.i.+llings when I begon, And here is all--every farthing.
INIQUITY. Ye lie like a wh.o.r.e, ye have won a pound!
DALILAH. Then the devil strike me to the ground!
INIQUITY. I will feel your pocket, by your leave, mistress--
DALILAH. Away, knave, not mine, by the ma.s.s--
INIQUITY. Yes, by G.o.d, and give you this to boot-- [_He giveth her a box_.
DALILAH. Out, wh.o.r.eson knave, I beshrew thy heart-root!
Wilt thou rob me and beat me too?
INIQUITY. In the way of correction, but a blow or two!
DALILAH. Correct thy dogs, thou shalt not beat me, I will make your knave's flesh cut, I warrant thee.
Ye think I have no friends; yes, I have in store A good fellow or two, perchance more.
Yea, by the ma.s.s, they shall box you for this gear, A knave I found thee, a knave I leave thee here.
[_She goeth out_.
INIQUITY. Gup, wh.o.r.e; do ye hear this jade?
Loving, when she is pleased: When she is angry, thus shrewd: Thief, brother: sister, wh.o.r.e; Two graffs of an ill tree, I will tarry no longer here, Farewell, G.o.d be with ye!
[_He goeth out_.
DALILAH _cometh in ragged, her face hid, or disfigured, halting on a staff_.
Alas, wretched wretch that I am, Most miserable caitiff that ever was born, Full of pain and sorrow, crooked and lorn: Stuff'd with diseases, in this world forlorn.
My sinews be shrunken, my flesh eaten with pox: My bones full of ache and great pain: My head is bald, that bare yellow locks; Crooked I creep to the earth again.
Mine eyesight is dim, my hands tremble and shake: My stomach abhorreth all kind of meat: For lack of clothes great cold I take, When appet.i.te serveth, I can get no meat Where I was fair and amiable of face, Now am I foul and horrible to see; All this I have deserved for lack of grace; Justly for my sins G.o.d doth plague me.
My parents did tiddle[231] me: they were to blame; Instead of correction, in ill did me maintain: I fell to[232] naught, and shall die with shame; Yet all this is not half of my grief and pain.
The worm of my conscience, that shall never die, Accuseth me daily more and more: So oft have I sinned wilfully, That I fear to be d.a.m.ned evermore.
