The Merry Devil of Edmonton by William Shakespeare ~ Full Audiobook
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Act I of The Merry Devil of Edmonton by William Shakespeare The Prologue Your silence and attention, worthy friends, That your free spirits may with more pleasing sense Relish the life of this our active scene, To which intent, to calm this murmuring breath, We ring this round with our invoking spells.

if that your listening ears be yet prepared to entertain the subject of our play lend us your patience tis peter fable a renowned scholar whose fame has still been hitherto forgot by all writers of this latter age

In Middlesex, his birth and his abode, Not full seven mile from this great famous city, That, for his fame in slights a magic one, Was called the Merry Friend of Edmonton. If any here make doubt of such a name, In Edmonton, yet fresh unto this day, Fixed in the wall of that old ancient church, His monument remaineth to be seen.

his memory yet in the mouths of men that whilst he lived he could deceive the devil imagine now that whilst he is retired from cambridge back unto his native home suppose the silent sable-visaged night casts her black curtain over all the world

And whilst he sleeps within his silent bed, Toiled with the studies of the passed day, The very time and hour wherein that spirit That many years attended his command, And often time twixt Cambridge and that town Had in a minute borne him through the air, By composition twixt the fiend and him, Comes now to claim the scholar for his due. Draw the curtains.

Behold him here, laid on his restless couch, his fatal chime prepared at his head, his chamber guarded by these sable slights, and by him stands that necromantic chair in which he makes his direful invocations and binds the fiends that shall obey his will. Sit with a pleased eye until you know the comic end of our sad tragic show.

Exit. Induction. The chime goes, in which time Fable is oft seen to stare about him and hold up his hands. What means the toiling of this fatal chime? Oh, what a trembling horror strikes my heart! My stiffened hair sits upright on my head, as do the bristles of a porcupine. Enter Coreb, a spirit.

"'Fable, awake, or I will bear thee hence headlong to hell.' "'Ha, ha! why dost thou wake me? "'Goreb, is it thou?' "'Tis I.' "'I know thee well. "'I hear the watchful dogs with hollow howling tell of thy approach. "'The lights burn dim, affrighted by thy presence. "'And this distempered and tempestuous night "'tells me the air is troubled with some devil.'

come art thou ready whither or to what why scholar this the hour my date expires i must depart and come to claim my due ah what is thy due fable thyself ah let not darkness hear thee speak that word lest that with force it hurry hence amain and leave the world to look upon my woe

yet overwhelm me with this globe of earth and let a little sparrow with her bill take but so much as she can bear away that every day thus losing of my load i may again in time yet hope to rise didst thou not write thy name in thine own blood and drew'st a formal deed twixt thee and me and is it not recorded now in hell

why comest thou in this stern and horrid shape not in familiar form as thou wast wont because the date of thy command is out and i am master of thy skill and thee coreb thou angry and impatient spirit i have earnest business for a private friend reserve me spirit until some future time

i will not for the minds of all the earth then let me rise and ere i leave the world dispatch some business that i have to do and in meantime repose thee in that chair fable i will sit down oh that this soul that cost so great a price as the dear precious blood of her redeemer

inspired with knowledge should by that alone which makes a man so mean unto the powers even lead him down into the depth of hell when men in their own pride strive to know more than man should know

for this alone god cast the angels down the infinity of odds is like a sea into which when man will take in hand to sail further than reason which should be his pilot hath skill to guide him losing once his compass he falleth to such deep and dangerous whirlpools as he doth lose the very sight of heaven the more he strives to come to quiet harbor the further still he finds himself from land

Man, striving still to find the depth of evil, seeking to be a god, becomes a devil. Come, Fable, hast thou done? Yes, yes, come hither. Fable, I cannot. Cannot? What ails your hollowness? Good Fable, help me. Alas, where lies your grief? Some aqua vitae? The devil's very sick. I fear he'll die, for he looks very ill.

There's thou do right the minister of darkness, in Lucifer's dread name, Corrup conjures thee to set him free. I will not for the minds of all the earth, unless thou give me liberty to see seven years more before thou seize on me. Fable, I give it thee. Swear, damned fiend.

Unbind me, and by hell I will not touch thee till seven years from this hour be full expired. Enough. Come out.

a vengeance take thy art live and convert all piety to evil never did man thus overreach the devil no time on earth like phaetontic flames can have perpetual being i return to my infernal mansion but be sure thy seven years done no trick shall make me tarry but corrup thou to hell shalt fable carry

exit then thus betwixt us two this variance ends thou to thy fellow fiends i to my friends exit act i scene i the george inn waltham enter sir arthur clare dorcas his lady millicent his daughter young harry clare the men booted the gentlewomen in cloaks and safeguards blake the merry host of the george comes in with them

"'Welcome, good night, to the George at Waltham, my freeholds, my tenements, goods and chattels. Madam, here's a room in the very home and illiad of a lodging. It hath none of the four elements in it. I built it out of the centre, and I drink ne'er the less sack. Welcome, my little waste of maidenheads. What, I serve the good Duke of Norfolk?'

"'God and mercy, my good host, Blake! Thou hast a good seat here.' "'Tis correspondent also. There's not a Tardarian nor a Carrier shall breathe upon your gildings. They have villainous rank feet, the rogues, and they shall not sweat in my linen. Knights and lords too have been drunk in my house, I thank the destinies.'

Pray thee, good sinful innkeeper, will that corruption thine ostler look well to my gelding. Hapox of these rushes. You, St. Denis, your gelding shall walk without doors, and cool his feet for his master's sake. By the body of St. George, I have an excellent intellect to go steal some venison. Now, when wast thou in the forest? Away, you stale mess of white broth.

"'Come hither, sister. Let me help you.' "'Mine host, is not Sir Richard Manchester come yet, according to our appointment when we last dined here?' "'The night's not yet apparent. Mary, here's a foreigner that summons a pal, and seeth he'll be atop and top, gallant presently.' "'Tis well. Good, mine host. Go down and see breakfast be provided.'

"'Night thy breath has the force of a woman. "'It takes me down. "'I am for the base element of the kitchen.'

I retire like a valiant soldier, face point-blank to the foeman, or like a courtier that must not show the prince's posteriors. Vanish to know my kenyosados and my interrogatories, for I serve the good Duke of Norfolk. Exit. How does my lady? Are you not weary, madam? Come hither.

i must talk in private with you my daughter millicent must not overhear i whispering pray god it tend my good strange fear assails my heart usurps my blood you know our meeting with the knight mounchensey is to assure our daughter to his heir tis without question

two tedious winters have passed o'er since first these couple loved each other and in passion glued first their naked hands with youthful moisture just so long on my knowledge. and what of this? this morning should my daughter lose her name and to Munchency's house convey our arms courted within his scutcheon the affiance made twist him and her this morning should be sealed. i know it should. but they're a crosser's wife.

there's one in waltham another at the abbey and the third at cheston and tis ominous to pass any of these without the paternoster crosses of love still thwart this marriage whilst that we two like spirits walk in night about these stony and hard-hearted plots oh god what means my father for look you wife the riotous old knight hath o'errun his annual revenue in keeping jolly christmas all the year

The nostrils of his chimney are still stuffed with smoke more chargeable than cane tobacco. His hawks devour his fattest dogs, while simple his leanest curs eat him hounds carrion. Besides, I heard of late his younger brother, a turkey merchant, hath sure sucked the night by means of some great losses on the sea. That, you conceive me, before God all is naught.

his seat is weak thus each thing rightly scann'd you'll see a flight wife shortly of his land treason to my heart's truest sovran how soon is love smother'd in foggy gain but how shall we prevent this dangerous match i have a plot a trick and this is it under this colour i will break off the match

I'll tell the knight that now my mind has changed for marrying of my daughter, for I intend to send her into Chester nunry. Oh me, accursed! There to become a most religious nun. I'll first be buried quick. To spend her beauty in most private prayers. I'll sooner be a sinner in forsaking mother and father. How does like my plot? Exceeding well.

but is it your intent she shall continue there? continue there? that were a jest you know a virgin may continue there a twelvemonth and a day only on trial there shall my daughter surge in some three months and in the mean time i'll compass a fair match twixt youthful jerningham the lusty heir of sir ralph jerningham dwelling in the forest i think they'll both come hither with mounch's knee your care argues the love you bear our child

I will subscribe to anything you'll have me. Exeunt. You will subscribe it. Good, good, tis well. Love hath two chairs of state, heaven and hell. My dear Munchency, thou my death shalt rue. Heir to my heart, millicent prove untrue. Exit. Scene two, the same. Enter Blake.

"'Oslars, you knaves and commanders, take the horses of the knights and competitors. Your honourable hulks have put into Arborough. They'll take in fresh water here, and I have provided clean chamber-pots. Here they come!' Enter Sir Richard Manchinsey, Sir Ralph Jerningham, Young Frank Jerningham, Raymond Manchinsey, Peter Fable, and Bilbo.'

"'The destinies be mostly to Chamberlain's these swaggering Puritans, knights of the sub-city.' "'God a mercy. Good, mine host.' "'Thanks, good host, Blake.' "'Room for my case of pistols that have Greek and Latin bullets in them. "'Let me cling to your flanks, my nimble Gibraltars, and blow wind in your calves to make them swell bigger.'

"'I'll keep her in mine own feed, simple. "'Away with punctilious endorthography. "'I serve the good Duke of Norfolk. "'Bilbo, "'tis here to patule recuban sub tegmine fagi.' "'Truly, mine host, Bilbo, "'though he be somewhat out of fashion, "'will be your only blade still. "'I have a villainous sharp stomach to slice a breakfast.'

"'Thou shalt have it without any more discontinuance, releases, or attunement. What, we know our terms of hunting and the sea-card.' "'And do you serve the good Duke of Norfolk still?' "'Still, and still, and still, my soldier of St. Quentin's. Come, follow me. I have Charles Wayne below in a butt of sack. It will glister like your crabfish.'

You have fine scholar-like terms. Your croupa's dictionary is your only book to study in a cellar. A man shall find very strange words in it. Come, my host, let's serve the good Duke of Norfolk. And still, and still, and still, my boy, I'll serve the good Duke of Norfolk. Exeunt, Host, and Bilbo. Enter Sir Arthur Clare, Harry Clare, and Millicent.

good sir arthur clare what gentleman is that i know him not tis master fable sir a cambridge charler my son's dear friend sir i entreat you know me command me sir i am affected to you for your montesney's sake alas for him i not respect whether he sink or swim a word in private sir ralph

methinks your father looketh strangely on me say love why are you sad i am not sweet passion is strong when woe with woe doth meet shall'st into breakfast after we'll conclude the cause of this outcoming in and feed and let that usher a more serious deed whilst you desire his grief my heart shall bleed raymond monshensy

Come, be frolic, friend. This is the day thou hast expected long. Pray God, dear Jurningham, it prove so happy. There's naught can alter it. Be merry, lad. There's naught shall alter it. Be lively, Raymond. Stand any opposition against thy hope, art shall confront it with her largest scope. Exeunt. Scene 3. The Same. Peter Fable, Solace.

Good old Munchesney is thy hap so ill, that for thy bounty and thy royal parts, thy kind allegiance should be held in scorn, and after all these promises by Clare, refuse to give his daughter to thy son, only because thy revenues cannot reach to make her dowage of so rich a jointer, as can the heir of wealthy Jerningham,

and therefore is the false fox now in hand to strike a match betwixt her and the other and the old greybeards now are close together plotting it in the garden is't even so raymond munchesney boy have thou and i thus long at cambridge read the liberal arts the metaphysics magic and those parts of the most secret deep philosophy

have i so many melancholy nights watched on top of peter house highest tower and come we back into our native home for want of skill to lose the wench thou lovest we'll first hang anvil in such rings of mist as never rose from any dampish fen i'll make the brind sea to rise at ware and drown the marshes under stratford bridge i'll drive the deer from waltham in their walks and scatter them like sheep in every field

we may perhaps be crossed but if we be he shall cross the devil that but crosses me enter raymond and young jerningham and young clare but here comes raymond disconsolate and sad and here is the gallant that must have the wench i pray thee raymond leave these solemn dumps revive thy spirits thou that before hast been more watchful

than the day proclaiming cock as sportive as a kid as frank and mary as mirth herself if aught in me may thy content procure it is thine own thou mayst thyself assure ha jerningham if any but thyself 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 the hollow sound come from the lips of any living man it might have won the credit of mynia from thee it cannot if i understand thee i am a villain what dost thou speak in parables to thy friends

Come, boy, and make me this same groaning love, troubled with stitches and the cough of the 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. Why, how now, madcap? What, my lusty Frank? So near a wife, and will not tell a friend?

but you will to this gear in hugger-mugger art thou turned miser rascal in thy loves who i sblood 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 anything in my forehead i am a villain do i wear a nightcap do i bend in the hams what dost thou see in me that i should be towards marriage ha

"'What, thou married? Let me look upon thee, rogue. Who has given out this of thee? How cam'st thou into this ill name? What company hast thou been in, rascal?' "'You are the man, sir. Must have Millicent. The match is making in the garden now. Her jointure is agreed on, and the old men, your fathers, mean to launch their busy bags.'

but in mean time to thrust monshensy off for colour of this new intended match fair millicent to cheston must be sent to take the approbation for a nun dear look upon me lad the match is done raymond monshensy now i touch thy grief with the true feeling of a zealous friend but as for fair and beauteous millicent with my vain breath i would not seek to slubber her angel-like perfections

But thou know'st that Essex hath the saint that I adore, Where'er did we meet thee in wanton springs, That like a wag thou hast not laughed at me, And with regardless jesting mocked 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 nightingale to wake, And from the meadow 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 heavies slow past hours to hang like heavy clogs upon the day but dear munchinsy had not my affection seized 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 dear

thou hast begot my life and from the mouth of hell where now i sate i feel my spirit rebound against the stars thou hast conquered me dear friend in my free soul there time nor death can by their power control frank jerningham thou art a gallant boy

and were he not my pupil i would say he were as fine a metal gentleman as of 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 noble clare this while of our discourse what may montesnys honour to thyself exact upon the measure of thy grace

Raymond Munchensie, I would have thee know, he does not breathe this air whose love I cherish and whose soul I love more than Munchensie's. Nor ever in my life did see the man whom, for his wit and many virtuous parts, I think more worthy of my sister's love. But since the matter grows unto this pass, I must not seem to cross my father's will. But when thou list to visit her by night, my horse is saddled, and the stable door stands ready for thee. Use them at thy pleasure.

in honest marriage wed her frankly boy and if thou get'st her lad god give thee joy then care away let fate's my fall pretend back'd with the favours of so true a friend let us alone to bustle for the set for age and craft with wit and art have met

i'll make my spirits to dance such nightly jigs along the way twixt this and totem cross the carriers jades shall cast their heavy packs and the strong hedges scarce shall keep them in the milkmaids cuts shall turn the wenches off and lay the dossers tumbling in the dust

the frank and merry london prentices that come for cream and lusty country cheer shall lose their way and scrambling in the ditches all night shall whoop and hollow cry and call yet none to other find the way at all pursue the project charlotte what we can do to help endeavour join our lives thereto excellent end of act one

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Take me with you, good Sir John.

A plague on thee, smug, and now toucheth liquor thou art foundered straight. What, are your brains always water-mills? Must they ever run round? Thanks, your ale is a philistine fox. Zah, there's fire in the tail-ont. You are a rogue to charge us with mugs if the re-reward. Brr.

the plague of this wind it tickles my catastrophe neighbor banks of waltham and goodman smug the honest smith of edmonton as i dwell betwixt you both at enfield i know the taste of both your ale-houses

they are good both smart both hem grass and hay we are all mortal let's live till we die and be merry and there is an end well said sir john you are of the same humour still and doth the water run the same way still boy vulcan was a rogue to him

sir john lock lock lock fast sir john so sir john all one of these years when it shall please the goddesses and the destinies be drunk in your company that's all now and god send us health shall i swear i love you

No oaths, no oaths, good neighbor smug, we'll wet our lips together and hug, carouse in private, and elevate the heart, and the liver, and the lights, and the lights mark you me within us, for hem, grass, and hay, we are all mortal, let's live till we die, and be merry, and there's an end.

but to our former motion about stealing some venison whither go we into the forest near brabanks into brian's walk the mad keeper sblood i'll tickle your keeper if faith thou art always drunk when we have need of thee need of me

sir you shall have need of me always while there's iron in your anvil master parson may the smith go think you being in this taking

I'll go in spite of all the bells in Waltham. The question is, good neighbor Banks, let me see. The moon shines tonight. There's not a narrow bridge betwixt this and the forest. His brain will be settled ere night. He may go, he may go, neighbor Banks.

now we want none but the company of mine host blog at the george at waltham if he were here our consort were full look where comes my good host the duke of norfolk's man and how and how ahem grass and hay we are not yet mortal let's live till we die and be merry and there's an end enter host

my castilian dialogues and art thou in breath still boy miller dost the match hold smith i see by thy eyes thou hast been reading little geneva print but went we merely to the forest to steal some of the king's deer

"'I'll meet you at the time appointed. "'Away, I have knights and colonels at my house, "'and must tend to the Hungarians. "'If we be scoured in the forest, "'we'll meet in the church porch at Enfield. "'It's correspondent.' "'Tis well. "'But how, if any of us should be taken?' "'He shall have ransom by the Lord.'

"'Tush! The knave-keepers are my bisonians and my pensioners. Nine o'clock. Be valiant, my little Gogomorogs. I'll fence with all the justices in Hertfordshire. I'll have a buck till I die. I'll slay a doe while I live. Hold your bow straight and steady. I serve the good Duke of Norfolk.' "'Oh, rare! Oh, oh, oh, boy!'

Peace, neighbor smug! You see, this is a boor, a boor of the country, an illiterate boor, and yet the citizen of Goodfellows.

Come, let's provide. Ahem, grass and hay. We are not yet all mortal. We'll live till we die, and be merry, and there's an end. Come, Smug. Good night, Waltham. Oh, oh, oh, boy. Exeunt. Scene 2. The Georgian. Enter the knights and gentlemen from breakfast again.

nor i for thee clare not of this what hast thou fed me all this while with shawls and comest to tell me now thy likest did not i do not hold thy offer competent nor do i like the assurance of thy land the title is so brangled with thy debts

too good for thee and night thou knowest it well i faund not on thee for thy goods not i twas thine own motion that thy wife doth know hs it was so he lies not in that

To which I hearkened willingly, and the rather, because I was persuaded it proceeded from love, thou borest to me and to my boy, and gavest him free access unto thy house. Here he hath not behaved him to thy child, but as befits a gentleman to do. Nor is my poor distress state so low that I'll shut up my doors, I warrant thee. Let it suffice, Mountresney, I mislike it.

Nor think thy son a match fit for my child.

i tell thee clare his blood is good and clear as the best drop that panteth in thy veins but for this maid thy fair and virtuous child she is no more disparaged by thy baseness than the most orient and the prettiest jewel which still retains his lustre and his beauty although a slave were owner of the same she is the last left to me to bestow and her i mean to dedicate to god

you do sir sir sir i do she is mine own and pity she is so damnation dog thee and thy wretched pelt not thou mount chesney shall bestow my child mount neither shouldst thou bestow her where thou mean'st

what wilt thou do diogenes no matter let that be i will do that perhaps shall anger thee thou hast wrong'd my love and by god's blessed angel thou shalt well know it diogenes that brave not me

brave thee base churl were it not for manhood's sake i say no more but that there be some by whose blood is hotter than ours is which being stirred might make us both repent this foolish meeting but harry clare although thy father hath abused my friendship yet i love thee i do my noble boy i do he faith i do do

fill the world with talk of us man man i never looked for better at your hands i hoped your great experience and your years would have proved patience rather to your soul than with this fantastique and untamed passion to whet their skeins

"'And but for that, I hope their friendships are too well confirmed, and their minds tempered with more kindly heat, than for their froward parents' sores that they should break forth into public brawls. Howe'er the rough hand of the untoward world hath moulded your proceedings in this matter, yet I am sure the first intent was love. Then, since the first spring was so sweet and warm, let it die gently.'

ne'er kill it with a scorn o thou base world how leprous is that soul that is once limbed in that polluted mud o sir arthur you have startled his free active spirits with a too sharp spur for his mind to bear

Have patience, sir. The remedy to woe is to leave what force we must forego. And I must take a twelve months' approbation, that in meantime this sole and private life at the year's end may fashion me a wife. But sweet Munchency, ere this year be done, thou'dst be a friar, if that I be a nun. And father, ere young journeying hams I'll be.

i will turn mad to spite both him and thee duke wife come to horse and housewife make you ready for if i illive i swear by this good light i'll see you lodged in cheson house to-night raymond away thou seest how matters fall churl hell consume thee and thy pelf and all

"'Now, Master Clare, you see how matters vag. Your millicent must need to be made a nun. Well, sir, we are the men must ply this match. Hold you your peace, and be a looker on, and send her unto Chesson. Where he will, I'll send me fellows of a handful high into the cloisters where the nuns frequent.'

shall make them skip like does about the dale and with the lady priors of the house to play at leap-frog naked in their smocks until the merry wenches at their mass cry tee hee wee hee and tickling these mad lasses in their flanks they'll sprawl and squeak and pinch their fellow nuns

Be lively, boys, before the wench we lose, I'll make the abbess wear the cannon's hose. Exeunt. Scene 3. The same. Enter Harry Clare, Frank Jarningham, Peter Fable, and Millicent. Spite now hath done her worst. Sister, be patient. Forewarn poor Raymond's company. O heaven! When the composure of weak frailty meet upon this mart of dirt—

O, then weak love must in her own unhappiness be silent, and wink on all deformities. Tis well. Where's Raymond, brother? Where's my dear Monchensey? Would we might weep together and then part, our sign, Perel, would much ease my heart. Sweet beauty, fold your sorrows in the thought of future reconcilement.

let your tears show you a woman but be no further spent than from the eyes for sweet experience says that love is firm that's flatter'd with delays alas sir think you i shall e'er be his as sure as parting smiles on future bliss

yon comes my friend see he hath doted so long upon your beauty that your wont will with a pale retirement waste his blood for in true love music doth sweetly dwell severed these less worlds bear within them hell enter

Harry and Frank, you are enjoined to wane your friendship from me. We must part. The breath of all advised corruption, pardon me, Faith, I must say so. You may think I love you. I breathe not. Rougher spite do sever us. We'll meet by stealth, sweet friend, by stealth you twain. Kisses our sweetest cot with struggling pain.

Our friendship dies not, Raymond. Pardon me, I am busied. I have lost my faculties and buried them in Millicent's clear eyes. Alas, sweet love, what shall become of me? I must achiesen to the nunry. I shall ne'er see thee more. How sweet! I'll be thy votary. We'll often meet. This kiss divides us and breathes soft adieu. This be a double charm to keep both true. Have done.

Enter Bilbo.

Now, sirrah, what's the matter? Mary, you must to horse presently. That villainous old gouty churl, Sir Arthur Clare, longs till he be at the nunnery. How, sir? Oh, I cry you mercy. He is your father, sir, indeed, but I am sure that there's less affinity betwixt your two natures than there is between a broker and a cat purse. Bring my gelding, sirrah.

"'Well, nothing grieves me but for the poor wench. "'She must now cry valet to lobster pies, hearty chokes, "'and all meats of mortality. "'Poor gentlewoman, the sign must not be in Virgo any longer with her, "'and that me grieves full well.'

poor millicent must pry and repent o fatal wonder she'll now be no fatter love must not come at her yet she shall be kept under exit farewell dear raymond friend adieu dear sweet no joy enjoys my heart till we next meet exeunt well raymond now the tide of discontent beats in thy face

but ere it be long the wind shall turn the flood we must to waltham abbey and as fair millicent and cheston lives a most unwilling nun so thou shalt there become a beardless novice to what end let time and future accidents declare taste thou my slights thy love i'll only share

Turn, friar? Come, my good counselor, let's go. Yet that disguise will hardly shroud my woe. Exeunt. End of Act Two. Twenty-four chefs. Twenty-four culinary showdowns. For twenty-four hours straight. Which chef will out-cook, out-pace, out-blast the competition?

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ACT III SCENE I. CHESTON PRIORY Enter the Prioress of Cheston, with a nun or two, Sir Arthur Clare, Sir Ralph Jerningham, Henry and Frank, the Lady, and Bilbo, with Millicent.

Madam, the love unto this holy sisterhood, and our confirmed opinion of your zeal, hath truly won us to bestow our child rather on this than any neighboring cell.

Jesus' daughter, Mary's child, holy matron, woman mild, for thee a mass shall still be said, every sister drop a bead, and those again succeeding them, for you, shall sing a requiem. The wench is gone, Harry. She is no more a woman of this world. Mark her well, she looks like a nun already. What thinks't on her?

by my faith her face comes handsomely to it but peace let's hear the rest madam for a twelvemonth's approbation we mean to make this trial of our child your care and our dear blessing in meantime we pray may prosper this intended work may your happy soul be blithe that so truly pay your tithe he who many children gave tis fit that he one child should have

then fair virgin hear my spell for i must your duty tell good men and true stand together and hear your charge first a morning's take your book the glass wherein yourself must look

Your young thoughts, so proud and jolly, Must be turned to motions holy. For your busk, attires, and toys Have your thoughts on heavenly joys; And for all your follies past You must do penance, pray, and fast. Let her take heed of fasting, And if she ever hurt herself with praying, I'll ne'er trust beast. 'Tis goes hard, Berylidae.

you shall ring the sacring bell keep your hours and tell your knell rise at midnight at your matins read your psalter sing your latins and when your blood shall kindle pleasure scourge yourself in planches measure worse and worse by saint mary sirrah how how does she hold her countenance well go thy ways if ever thou prove a nun i'll build an abbey

She may be a nun, but if ever she prove an anchoress, I'll dig her grave with my nails. To her again, mother. Hold thine own wench. You must read your morning's mass. You must creep onto the cross. Put cold ashes on your head. Have a haircloth for your bed. She had rather have a man in her bed. Bit your beads and tell your needs, your holy aves and your creeds.

holy maid this must be done if you mean to live the holy maid will be no nun madame we have some business of import and must be gone wilt please you take my wife into your closet who will further acquaint you with my mind and so good madam for this time adieu well now frank jerningham how sayest thou

to be brief what wilt thou say for all this if we two her father and myself can bring about that we convert this nun to be a wife and thou the husband of this pretty nun how then my lad ha frank it may be done ay now it works oh god sir you amaze me at your words think with yourself sir what a thing it were to cause a recluse to remove her vow

a maimed contrite and repentant soul ever mortified with fasting and with prayer whose thoughts even as her eyes are fixed on heaven to draw a virgin thus devoured with zeal back to the world o impious deed nor by the canon law can it be done without a dispensation from the church besides she is so prone unto this life as she'll even shriek to hear a husband named

"'Ay, a poor innocent she! Well, here's no knavery. He flouts the old fools to their teeth.' "'Boy, I am glad to hear thou mak'st such scruple of that conscience. And in a man so young as in yourself, I promise you, tis very seldom seen. But, Frank, this is a trick, a mere device, a slight plotted betwixt her father and myself.'

to thrust mount chensey's nose beside the cushion that being thus behart of all access time may yet work him from her thoughts and give the ample scope to thy desires a plague on both for a couple of jews how now frank what say you to that let me alone i warrant thee sir assured that this motion doth proceed from your most kind and fatherly affection i do dispose my liking to your pleasure

but for it is a matter of such moment as holy marriage i must crave this much to have some conference with my ghostly father friar hildersham hereby at waltham abbey to be absolute of things that it is fit none only but my confessor should know with all my heart he is a reverend man and to-morrow morning we will meet all at the abbey where by the opinion of that reverend man we will proceed i like it passing well

till then we part boy ay think of it farewell a parent's care no mortal tongue can tell scene two before the priory gate enter sir arthur clare and raymond manchensey like a friar holy young novice i have told you now my full intent and do refer the rest to your professed secrecy and care

and see our serious speech hath stolen upon the way that we are come unto the abbey gate because i know mounchusney is a fox that craftily doth overlook my doings thou'lt not be seen not i tush i have done i had a daughter but she is now a nun farewell dear son farewell fare you well

Ay, you have done; Your daughter, sir, shall not be long a nun. O my rare tutor! Never mortal brain Plotted out such a mass of policy, And my dear bosom is so great with laughter. Begot by his simplicity and error, My soul is fallen in labor with her joy. O my true friends, Frank, Jurningham, and Clare, Did you now know but how this jest takes fire?

that good sir arthur thinking me a novice hath even poured himself into my bosom oh you would vent your spleens with tickling mirth but raymond peace and have an eye about for fear perhaps some of the nuns look out

Peace and charity within, never touched with deadly sin. I cast my holy water pure on this wall and on this der, that from evil shall defend and keep you from the ugly fiend. Evil spirit, by night nor day, shall approach or come this way. Elf nor fairy by this grace, day nor night, shall haunt this place. Holy maidens. Knock. Answer within. Who's that which knocks?

ha who's there friar gentle nun here is a friar and a nun a friar without now christ us save holy man what wouldst thou have holy maid i hither come from friar and father

by the favour and the grace of the prioress of this place amongst you all to visit one that's come for approbation before she was as now you are the daughter of sir arthur clare but since she now became a nun called millicent of edmonton holy man repose you there this news i'll to our abess bear to tell her what a man is sent and your message and intent

BENEDICITE. BENEDICIT. EXIT. Do, my good plump wench, if all fall right, I'll make your sisterhood one less by night. Now, happy fortune, speed me this merry drift. I like a wench comes roundly to her shrift. Enter Lady Millicent. Have friars recourse then to the house of nuns?

madam it is in the order of this place when any virgin comes for approbation lest that for fear or such sinister practice she should be forced to undergo this veil which should proceed from conscience and devotion a visitor is sent from waltham house to take the true confession of the maid is that the order i commend it well

You to your shrift, I'll back unto the cell. Exit. Life of my soul, bright angel. What means the friar? O Millicent, tis I. My heart misgives me. I should know that voice. You, who are you? The holy virgin bless me. Tell me your name, you shall, ere you confess me. Munchency, thy true friend.

my raymond my dear heart sweet life give leave to my distracted soul to wake a little from this swoon of joy by what means cam'st thou to assume this shape

By means of Peter Fable, my kind tutor, who in the habit of Friar Hildersham, Frank Jurningham's old friend and confessor, helped me to act the part of priestly novice plotted by Frank, by Fable, and myself, and so delivered to Sir Arthur Clare, who brought me here unto the Abbey Gate to be his nun-maid daughter's visitor. You are all sweet traitors to my poor old father.

"'Oh, dear life, I was adreamt to-night that, as I was praying in my psalter, there came a spirit unto me as I kneeled, and by his strong persuasions tempted me to leave this nunry, and methought he came in the most glorious angel shape that mortal eye did ever look upon.'

Thou art sure that spirit, for there's no form is in mine eye so glorious as thine own. O thou idolatress, that dost this worship to him whose likeness is but praise of thee, thou bright unsetting star, which through this veil, for very envy, makest the sun look pale. Well, visitor, lest that perhaps my mother should think the friar too strict in his decrees, I this

I this confess to my sweet ghostly father, if chaste pure love be sin, I must confess, I have offended three years now with thee. But do you yet repent you of the same? Faith, I cannot. Nor will I absolve thee of that sweet sin that would be venial. Yet have the penance of thousand kisses.

and i enjoin you to this pilgrimage that in the evening you bestow yourself here in the walk near to the willow-ground where i'll be ready both with men and horse to wait your coming and convey you hence unto a lodge i have in infield chase no more reply if that you yield consent i see more eyes upon our stay are bent

Sweet life, farewell, tis done, let that suffice. What my tongue fails, I send thee by mine eyes. Exit, enter Fable, Clare, and Jerningham. Now, visitor, how does this new-made nun? Come, come, how does she, noble Capuchin? She may be poor in spirit, but for the flesh tis fat and plump, boys.

Ah, rogues, there is a company of girls would turn you all friars. But how, Montesney? How, lad, for the wench? Sound lads of faith, I thank my holy habit. I have confessed her, and the lady prioress hath given me ghostly counsel with her blessing. And how say ye, boys, if I be choose the weekly visitor?

S'blood, she'll have ne'er a nun unbagged to sing mass then. The abbot of Waltham will have as many children to put to nurse as he has calves in the marsh. Well, to be brief, the nun will soon at night turn tippet, and if I can but devise to quit her cleanly of the nunnery, she is mine own. But, Sir Raymond, what news of Peter Fabel at the house?

"'Tush, he's the only man. A necromancer and a conjurer, that works for young Manchunsey altogether. And if it be not for Friar Benedict, that he can cross him by his learned skill, the wench is gone. Abel will fetch her out by very magic.' "'Stands the wind there, boy. Keep them in that key. The wench is ours before tomorrow day.'

"'Well, Hal and Frank, as ye are gentlemen, "'stick to us close this once. "'You know your fathers have men and horse "'lie ready still at Chesson, "'to watch the coast be clear, "'to scout about and have an eye "'unto Montchesney's walks. "'Therefore you two may hover thereabouts, "'and no man will aspect you for the matter. "'Be ready but to take her at our hands. "'Leave us to scramble for her getting out.'

Splud, if all Herefordshire were at our heels, we'll carry her away in spite of them. But whither, Raymond? To Brian's upper lodge in Enfield Chase. He is mine honest friend and a tall keeper. I'll send my man unto him presently to acquaint him with your coming and intent. Be brief and secret.

Soon at night, remember, you bring your horses to the willow ground. Tis done, no more. We will not fail the hour. My life and fortune now lies in your power. About our business. Raymond, let's away. Think of your hour. It draws well of the day. Exit. End of Act 3. Act 4 of The Merry Devil of Edmonton by William Shakespeare.

Come, ye Hungarian pilchers, we are once more come under the zoonotory of the forest.

"'Let's be resolute. Let's fly to and again. "'And if the devil come, we'll put him to his interrogatories "'and not budge a foot. "'What? "'What I'll put fire into you. "'Eshad all three serve the good Duke of Norfolk.'

mine host my bully my precious consul my noble holofernes i have been drunk in thy house twenty times and ten all's for that i was last night in the third heavens my brain was poor it had yestint

but now i am a man of action is't not so lad why now thou hast two of the liberal sciences about thee wit and reason thou mayst serve the duke of europe i will serve the duke of christendom and do him more credit in his cellar than all the plate in his buttery is't not so lad

mine host and smug stand there banks you and your horse keep together but lie close show no tricks for fear of the keeper if we be scared we'll meet in the church porch at enfield content sir john smug dost thou remember the tree thou fell'st out last night

tush and t'had been as high as the abbey i should ne'er have hurt myself i have fallen into the river coming home from waltham and scape drowning come sever fear no spirits we'll have a buck presently we have watched later than this for a doe mine host thou speak'st as true as verveert

Why, then, come, grass and hay, etc. Excellent. Enter Clare, Jerningham, and Millicent. Frank Jerningham. Speak softly, rogue. How now? Sfoot, we shall lose our way, it's so dark. Whereabouts are we? Why, man, at Potter's Gate. The way lies right. Hark! The clock strikes at infield. What's the hour? Ten, the bell says. It lies in's throat. It was but eight when we set out of Chesson.

Sir John and his sexton are at ale to-night. The clock runs at random. Nay, as sure as thou livest, the villainous vicar is abroad in the chase this dark night. The stone priest steals more venison than half the country. Millicent, how dost thou? Sir, very well. I would to God we were at Brian's lodge. We shall anon.

Sounds, hark! What means this noise? Stay, I hear horsemen. I hear footmen too. Nay, then I have it. We have been discovered, and we are followed by our father's men. Brother and friend, alas, what shall we do? Sister, speak softly, or we are descried. They are hard upon us, whatsoever they be. Shadow yourself behind this break of fern. We'll get into the wood and let them pass.

Enter Sir John, Blague, Smug, and Banks, one after another. Grasted hay! We are all mortal. The Keeper's abroad, and there's an end. Sir John! Neighbor Banks, what's news? Z'wounds, Sir John. The Keeper's are abroad. I was hard by him. Grasted hay! Where's mine host, Blague?

"'Here, Metropolitan, the Philistines are upon us. Be silent. Let us serve the good Duke of Norfolk. But where is Smug?' "'Here. Up pox on your dogs. I have killed the greatest buck in Brian's walk. Shift yourselves. All the keepers are up.'

let's meet in enfield church porch away we are all taking else exeunt enter brian with his man and his hound ralph hear'st thou any stirring i heerd one speak here hard by in the bottom peace maister speak low zounds if i did not hear a bow go off and the buck bray i never heerd a deer in my life

"'When went your fellows out into their walks?' "'An hour ago.' "'So life! Is there stealers abroad and they cannot hear of them? "'Where the devil are my men tonight? "'Serah, go up the wind towards Buckley's Lodge. "'I'll cast about the bottom with my hound, "'and I will meet thee under Coney Ock.' "'I will, sir.' "'How now?'

By the mass, my hound stays upon something. Hark! Hark! Bowman! Hark! Hark there! Brother! Frank Jaringham! Brother Clare! Peace! That's a woman's voice. Stand! Who's there? Stand or I'll shoot! Oh, Lord, hold your hands. I mean no harm, sir.

Speak, who are you? I am a maid, sir. Who, Master Brian? The very same. Sure, I should know her voice. Mistress Millicent? Aye, it is I, sir. God, for his passion! What make you here alone? I looked for you at my lodge an hour ago. What means your company to leave you thus?

who brought you hither my brother sir and master geringham who hearing folks about us in the chase feared it had been sir ralph and my father who had pursued us thus dispersed ourselves till they were past us but where be they they be not far off here about the grove and to clare and jerningham be not afraid man i heard brian's tongue that's certain call softly for your sister

Aye, brother, here. Maester Clare! I told you it was Brian. Who's that, Maester Jerningham? You are a couple of hot shots. Does a man commit his wench to you, to put her to grass at this time of night? We heard a noise about her in the chase, and fearing that our fathers had pursued us, severed ourselves. Brian, how hapst thou on her?

Seeking, for stealers are abroad to-night. My hound stayed on her, and so found her out. They were these stealers that affrighted us. I was hard upon them when they horsed their deer, and I perceive they took me for a keeper. Which way took they? Towards Enfield. A plague upon't, that's that damned priest, and blague of the George, he that serves the good Duke of Norfolk. A noise within.

Follow, follow, follow. Peace, that's my father's voice. Zounds, you suspected them, and now they are here indeed. Alas, what shall we do? If you go to the lodge, you are surely taken. Strike down the wood to Enfield presently, and if Manchensee come, I'll send him to ye.

let me alone to bustle with your father i warrant you that i will keep them play till you have quit the chase away away exeunt albert bryan who's there enter the knights in the king's name pursue the ravisher stand or i'll shoot who's there i am the keeper that do charge you stand you have stolen my deer

We stolen thy deer? We do pursue a thief. You are errant thieves, and ye have stolen my deer. We are knights, Sir Arthur Clare and Sir Ralph Jurningham. The more your shame that knights should be such thieves. Who, what art thou? My name is Brian, keeper of this walk. O Brian, a villain! Thou hast received my daughter to thy lodge.

you have stolen the best deer in my walk to-night. My deer! My daughter, stop not my way. What make you in my walk? You have stolen the best buck in my walk to-night. My daughter! My deer! Where is Mount Chintzy? Where's my buck? I will complain me of thee to the king.

i'll complain unto the king you spoil his game tis strange that men of your account and calling will offer it i tell you true sir arthur and sir rhaef that none but you have only spoiled my game i charge you stop us not i charge you both ye get out of my ground is this a time for such as you

men of your place and of your gravity to be abroad a thieving tis a shame and afore god if i had shot at you i had served you well enough scene two enfield churchard enter banks the miller wet on his legs sir foot here's a dark night indeed i think i have been in fifteen ditches between this and the forest

soft here's enfield church i am so wet for climbing over into an orchard for to steal some filberts well here i'll sit in the church porch and wait for the rest of my consort enter the sexton here's a sky as black as lucifer god bless us here was goodman theophilus buried he was the best nutcracker that ever dwelt in enfield

"'Well, tis nine o'clock. "'Tis time to incurfew. "'Lord bless us! "'What a white thing's that in the church porch! "'Oh, Lord! "'My legs are too weak for my body. "'My hair is too stiff for my nightcap. "'My heart fails. "'This is the ghost of Theophilus. "'Oh, Lord, it follows me! "'I cannot say my prayers, "'and won't give me a thousand pound. "'Good spirit, I have bowled and drunk "'and followed the hounds with you a thousand times, "'though I have not the spirit now to deal with you. "'Oh, Lord!' "'Enter priest.'

Grass and hay! We are all mortal! Who's there? We are grass and hay indeed. I know you to be Master Parson by your phrase. Sexton! Aye, sir. For mortality's sake, what's the matter?

oh lord i'm mad of another element master theophilus ghost is in the church porch there was a hundred cats or fire dancing here even now and they'll climb up to the top of the steeple i'll not into the belfry for a world oh good solomon

I have been about a deed of darkness to-night. O Lord, I saw fifteen spirits in the forest, like white bulls. If I lie, I am an errant thief. Mortality haunts us. Grass and hay, the devil's at our heels, and lets hence to the parsonage. Exeunt, the miller comes out very softly. What noise is that?

"'Tis the watch, sure. That villainous, unlucky rogue smug is tain upon my life. And then all our villainy comes out. I heard one cry, sure." Enter host Blake. "'If I go steal any more venison, I am a paradox. Sfot, I can scarce bear the sin of my flesh in a day which is so heavy.'

I turn not honest and serve the good Duke of Norfolk, as true Mediterranean skinker should do. This may never look higher than the element of a constable. By the Lord, there are some watchmen. I hear them name Maester Constable. I would to God my mill were a eunuch, and wanted her stones, so I were hence. Who's there?

"'Tis the constable by this light. I'll steal hence, and if I can meet mine host Blake, I'll tell him how smug is Tain, and will him to look to himself.' "'Exit.' "'What the devil is that white thing? The same is at churchyard, and I have heard that ghosts and villainous goblins have been seen here.' "'Enter sexton and priest.' "'Grass and hay. Oh, that I could conjure.'

"'We saw a spirit here in the churchyard, and in the fallow field there's the devil, with a man's body upon his back, in a white sheet.' "'It may be a woman's body, Sir John.' "'If she be a woman, the sheets damn her. Lord bless us, what a night of mortality is this!' "'Priest!' "'Mine host.' "'Did you not see a spirit all in white cross you at the stile?'

oh no mine host but there's st one in the porch i've not breath enough left to bless me from the devil who's that the sexton almost freighted out of his wits did you see banks or smug no they are gone to waltham sure i would fain hence come let to my house i'll now serve the duke of norfolk in this fashion again whilst i breathe

If the devil be amongst us, tis time to hoist sail and cry rumour. Keep together, Sexton, thou art secret what? Let's be comfortable one to another. We are all mortal, mine host. True, and I'll serve God in the night hereafter, afore the Duke of Norfolk. Excellent. End of Act 4

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Good morrow, gentle knight.

happy day after your short night's rest sir Rafe stirring so soon indeed poor lady sir rest would have done right well now riding late last night has made me drowsy go to go to those days are gone with us sir Arthur sir Arthur care go with those days let them even go together let them go

"'Tis time, if faith, that we were in our graves, when children leave obedience to their parents, when there's no fear of God, no care, no duty. Well, well, nay, nay, it shall not do, it shall not. No, Manchensey, thou'st here on it. Thou shalt, thou shalt, if faith. I'll hang thy son if there be law in England. A man's child ravished from a nunnery. This is rare. Well, there's one gone for Friar Hildesum.'

nay gentle knight do not vex thus it will but hurt your health you cannot grieve more than i do but to what end but hark you sir wraith i was about to say something it makes no matter but hark you in your ear the friar's a knave but god forgive me a man can tell neither s foot so out of patience i know not what to say there's one went for the friar an hour ago

comes he not yet s'foot if i do find knavery under cowl i'll tickle him ill furk him here he's here he's here good morrow friar good morrow gentle friar enter hildesham good morrow father hildesham good morrow hildesham good morrow reverend knights unto you both hildesham father now 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 crossed flatly all is dashed alas good knights how might the matter be let me understand your grief for charity who does not understand my griefs alas alas and yet ye do not will the church permit to none an approbation of her habit to be ravished

A holy woman, benedicitee! Now God forfend that any should presume to touch the sister of a holy house. Jesus deliver me! Why, Millicent, the daughter of this knight is out of Chesson taken last night.

was that fair maiden late become a nun was she quota knavery knavery knavery i smell it i smell it in faith is the wind in that door is it even so dost thou ask me that now it is the first time that i e'er heard of it

that's very strange. why tell me friar tell me thou art counted a holy man do not play the hypocrite with me nor bear with me I cannot dissemble did I but by their own consent by thy allowance nay further by thy warrant why Reverend Knight. Unreverend friar

Nay, then give me leave, sir, to depart in quiet. I had hoped you had sent for me to some other end. Nay, stay, good friar. If anything hath hapt about this matter in thy love to us, that thy strict order cannot justify, admit it be so, and we will cover it. Take no care, man. Disclaim me yet thy counsel and advise. The wisest man that is may be o'erreached.

Sir Arthur, by my order and my faith, I know not what you mean. By your order and your faith? This is most strange of all. Why, tell me, Friar, are you not confessor to my son Frank? Yes, that I am.

and did not this good knight here and myself confess with you being his ghostly father to deal with him about the unbanded marriage betwixt him and that fair young millicent i never heard of any match intended did we not break our minds that very time that our device of making her a nun was but a colour in a very plot put by young mountresney is't not true

"'The more I strive to know what you should mean, the less I understand you.' "'Did not you tell us still how Peter Fable at length would cross us if we took not heed?' "'I have heard of one that is a great magician, but he's about the university.' "'Did not you send your novice Benedict to persuade their girl to leave Montchensey's love, to cross that Peter Fable in his art, and to that purpose made him visit her?'

"'I never sent my novice from the house, nor have we made our visitation yet.' "'Never sent him? Nay, did he not go? Did I not direct him to the house and confer with them by the way? Did he not tell me what charge he had received from you, word by word, as I requested at your hands?' "'That you shall know. He came along with me, and stays without. Come hither, Benedict.' "'Enter Benedict.'

Young Benedict, were you e'er sent by me to Chesson Nunnery for a visitor? Never, sir, truly. Stranger than all the rest. Did I not direct you to the house? Confer with you from Waltham Abbey unto Chesson Wall? I never saw you, sir, before this hour. The devil thou didst not! Ho, Chamberlain! Enter Chamberlain.

Anon, anon. Call mine host Black hither. I will send one over to see if he be up. I think he be scarce stirring yet. Why, knave, didst thou not tell me an hour ago mine host was up? Ay, sir, my master's up. You knave, is he up or is he not up? Dost thou mock me?

Aye, sir, my master is up, but I think Master Blake indeed be not stirring. Why, who's thy master? Is not the master of the house thy master? Yes, sir, but Master Blake dwells over the way. Is not this the George? Before God, there's some villainy in this. Sfut, our sign's removed. This is strange. Exeunt.

scene two the george inn enter blake trussing his points chamberlain speak up to the new lottings bid ne'er look well to the baked meats enter sir altha and sir ralph how now my old janet balk my house my castle lie in waltham all night and not under the canopy of your host blake's house

mine host mine host we lay all night at the george and waltham but whether the george be your fee simple or no does a doubtful question look upon your sign borsalp body i've said george this is mine overthrown neighbour hath done this to seduce my blind customers i'll tickle his catastrophe for this

if i do not indict him at next exercises for burglary let me die of the yellows but i see it is no boot in these days to serve the good duke of norfolk the villainous world is turned manger one jade deceives another and your ostler plays this part commonly for the fourth share heavy comedy is at hand you whoreson villainous male london

mine host we have had the moreling's night of it that ever we had in our lives is it certain we have been in the forest all night almost thought how did i miss you thought i was stealing a buck there a plague on you we were stayed for you were you my noble romans why you shall share the venison is a footing

A marriage, mein host? A conjunction copulative. A gallant match between your doctor and Monsieur Raymond Monchense, young Juventus.

"'Tis firm, tis done. We'll show you a president if civil law are fought.' "'How? Married?' "'Leave tricks and admiration. There's a cleanly pair of sheets in the bed-and-orchard chamber, and they shall lie there. What? I'll do it. I'll serve the good Duke of Norfolk.' "'Thou shalt repent this plague.'

If any law in England will make thee smart for this, expect it with all severity. I renounce your defiance. If you parle so roughly, I'll barricade my gates against you. Stand fair, buddy. Priest, come off from the reward. What can you say now? It was done in my house. I shall taste called for it.

to see yon bay window i serve the good duke of norfolk and tis lodging storm i care not serving the good duke of norfolk thou art an actor in this and thou shalt carry fire in thy face eternally enters smug mounchensey harry clare and millicent fire sir blood there's no fire in england like your trinidad o sack

is any man here humorous we stole the venison and will justify it say you now in good sooth smug there's more sack of the fire smug

i do not take any exceptions against your sack but if you'll lend me a pickstaff i'll cudgel them all hence by this hand i say thou shalt into the cellar my host shall's not grapple pray pray you i could fight now for all the world like a cockatrice's egg

"'Shall's not serve the Duke of Norfolk?' "'Exit.' "'In, skipper, in!' "'Sira, hath young Mount Jasnebe married your sister?' "'Tis certain. Sir, here's the priest that coupled them, the parties joined, and the honest witness that cried Amen.' "'Sir Arthur Clare, my new-created father, I beseech you, hear me.' "'Sir, sir, you are a foolish boy. You have done that you cannot answer.'

i dare be bound to seize her from you for she is a profess'd nun with pardon sir that name is quite undone this true love not cancels both maid and nun when first you told me i should act that part how cold and bloody it crept o'er my heart

To Chesson with a smiling brow I went, but yet, dear sir, it was to this intent, that my sweet Raymond might find better means to steal me thence. In brief, disguised he came, like novice to old father Hildersham. His tutor here did act that cunning part, and in our love hath joined much wit to art. Is't even so?

with pardon therefore we entreat your smiles love thwarted turns itself to thousand wiles young master jerningham were you an actor in your own love's abuse my thoughts could sir do labour seriously unto this end to wrong myself ere i'd abuse my friend

he speaks like a bachelor of music all in numbers knights if i had known you would have let this covey of partridges sit thus long upon their knees upon my sign-post i would have spread my door with old coverlids captain well sir for this your sign was removed was it

faith we followed the directions of the devil must have beat a fable and smug lord bless us could never stand upright since you sir twas you was his minister that married them sir to prove myself an honest man being that i was last night in the forest stealing venison now sir to have you stand my friend if that matter should be called in question

I married your daughter to this worthy gentleman. I may chance to requite you and make your neck crack for it. If you do, I am as resolute as my neighbor, Vicar of Walton Abbey. Ahem, grass and hay, we are all mortal. Let's live till we be hanged, mine host. And be merry, and there's an end. Enter Fable. Now, knight, I enter Fable.

now my part begins to end this difference no at first i knew what you intended ere your love took flight from old montesly you sir arthur clare were minded to have married this sweet beauty to young frank jerningham to cross that match i used some petty slights

But I protest, such as but sate upon the skirts of art, no conjurations, nor such weighty spells as tie the soul to their performancy, these, for his love, who once was my dear pupil, have I affected. Now, methinks, tis strange that you, being old in wisdom, should thus knit your forehead on this match, since reason fails."

no law can curb the lover's rash attempt years in resisting this are sadly spent smile then upon your daughter and kind son and let our toil to future ages prove the devil of edmonton did good in love tis in vain to cross the providence dear son i take thee up into my heart rise daughter this is a kind father's part

Why, Sir John, send for Spindle's noise presently. Let me not, I'll serve the good Duke of Norfolk. Grass and hay, mine host. Let's live till we die, and be merry, and there's an end. What, is breakfast ready, mine host? Tis, my little Hebrew. Sirrah, ride straight to Chesson Nunry.

fetch thence my lady the house i know by this time misses the young votary come knights let's in i will to horse presently sir a plager my lady i shall miss a good breakfast how chance he cut so plaguely behind stand away i'll founder you else farewell smug thou art in another element

i will be by and by i will be saint george again take heed the fellow do not hurt himself did we not last night find two saint georges here yes knights this martialist was one of them then thus conclude your night of merriment exeunt omnes finis

End of Act 5. End of The Merry Devil of Edmonton by William Shakespeare.

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