And Bony Robin. Are not you a tailour?BROTHER.
Yes.
DAUGHTER.
Wher’s my wedding Gowne?
BROTHER.
Ile bring it to morrow.
DAUGHTER.
Doe, very rarely; I must be abroad else
To call the Maides, and pay the Minstrels,
For I must loose my Maydenhead by cock-light;
Twill never thrive else.
[Singes.] O faire, oh sweete, &c.
BROTHER.
You must ev’n take it patiently.
IAILOR.
Tis true.
DAUGHTER.
Good ev’n, good men; pray, did you ever heare
Of one yong Palamon?
IAILOR.
Yes, wench, we know him.
DAUGHTER.
Is’t not a fine yong Gentleman?
IAILOR.
Tis Love.
BROTHER.
By no meane crosse her; she is then distemperd
Far worse then now she showes.
1. FRIEND.
Yes, he’s a fine man.
DAUGHTER.
O, is he so? you have a Sister?
1. FRIEND.
Yes.
DAUGHTER.
But she shall never have him, tell her so,
For a tricke that I know; y’had best looke to her,
For if she see him once, she’s gone, she’s done,
And undon in an howre. All the young Maydes
Of our Towne are in love with him, but I laugh at ‘em
And let ‘em all alone; Is’t not a wise course?
1. FRIEND.
Yes.
DAUGHTER.
There is at least two hundred now with child by him—
There must be fowre; yet I keepe close for all this,
Close as a Cockle; and all these must be Boyes,
He has the tricke on’t, and at ten yeares old
They must be all gelt for Musitians,
And sing the wars of Theseus.
2. FRIEND.
This is strange.
DAUGHTER.
As ever you heard, but say nothing.
1. FRIEND.
No.
DAUGHTER.
They come from all parts of the Dukedome to him;
Ile warrant ye, he had not so few last night
As twenty to dispatch: hee’l tickl’t up
In two howres, if his hand be in.
IAILOR.
She’s lost
Past all cure.
BROTHER.
Heaven forbid, man.
DAUGHTER.
Come hither, you are a wise man.
1. FRIEND.
Do’s she know him?
2. FRIEND.
No, would she did.
DAUGHTER.
You are master of a Ship?
IAILOR.
Yes.
DAUGHTER.
Wher’s your Compasse?
IAILOR.
Heere.
DAUGHTER.
Set it too’th North.
And now direct your course to’th wood, wher Palamon
Lyes longing for me; For the Tackling
Let me alone; Come, waygh, my hearts, cheerely!
ALL.
Owgh, owgh, owgh, tis up, the wind’s faire,
Top the Bowling, out with the maine saile;
Wher’s your Whistle, Master?
BROTHER.
Lets get her in.
IAILOR.
Vp to the top, Boy.
BROTHER.
Wher’s the Pilot?
1. FRIEND.
Heere.
DAUGHTER.
What ken’st thou?
2. FRIEND.
A faire wood.
DAUGHTER.
Beare for it, master: take about! [Singes.]
When Cinthia with her borrowed light, &c. [Exeunt.]
Scaena 2. (A Room in the Palace.)
