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One-Act Plays Part 89

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Madam, it is my fortune that I may Procure you service. [_Going towards the door. The uproar sounds nearer._]

ANNE. Nay! what if the bear--

THE PLAYER.

The bear?

ANNE.

The door! The bear is broken loose.

Did you not hear? I scarce could make my way Through that rank crowd, in search of some safe place.

You smile, sir! But you had not seen the bear,-- Nor I, this morning. Pray you, hear me out,-- For surely you are gentler than the place.

I came ... I came by water ... to the Garden, Alone, ... from bravery, to see the show And tell of it hereafter at the Court!

There's one of us makes count of all such 'scapes ('Tis Mistress Fytton). She will ever tell The sport it is to see the people's games Among themselves,--to go _incognita_ And take all as it is not for the Queen, Gallants and rabble! But by Banbury Cross, I am of tamer mettle!--All alone, Among ten thousand noisy watermen; And then the foul ways leading from the Stair; And then ... no friends I knew, nay, not a face.

And my dear nose beset, and my pomander Lost in the rout,--or else a cut-purse had it: And then the bear breaks loose! Oh, 'tis a day Full of vexations, nay, and dangers too.

I would I had been slower to outdo The pranks of Mary Fytton.... You know her, sir?

THE PLAYER.

If one of my plain calling may be said To know a maid-of-honor. [_More lightly._] And yet more: My heart has cause to know the lady's face.

ANNE [_blankly_].

Why, so it is.... Is't not a marvel, sir, The way she hath? Truly, her voice is good....

And yet,--but oh, she charms; I hear it said.

A winsome gentlewoman, of a wit, too.

We are great fellows; she tells me all she does; And, sooth, I listen till my ears be like To grow for wonder. Whence my 'scape, to-day!

Oh, she hath daring for the pastimes here; I would--change looks with her, to have her spirit!

Indeed, they say she charms Someone, by this.

THE PLAYER.

Someone....

ANNE. Hast heard?

Why sure my Lord of Herbert.

Ay, Pembroke's son. But there I doubt,--I doubt.

He is an eagle will not stoop for less Than kingly prey. No bird-lime takes him.

THE PLAYER. Herbert....

He hath shown many favors to us players.

ANNE.

Ah, now I have you!

THE PLAYER. Surely, gracious madam; My duty; ... what besides?

ANNE. This face of yours.

'Twas in some play, belike. [_Apart._] ... I took him for A man it should advantage me to know!

And he's a proper man enough.... Ay me!

[_When she speaks to him again it is with encouraging condescension._]

Surely you've been at Whitehall, Master Player?

THE PLAYER [_bowing_].

So.

ANNE. And how oft? And when?

THE PLAYER. Last Christmas tide; And Twelfth Day eve, perchance. Your memory Freshens a dusty past.... The hubbub's over.

Shall I look forth and find some trusty boy To attend you to the river?

ANNE. I thank you, sir.

[_He goes to the door and steps out into the alley, looking up and down. The noise in the distance springs up again._]

[_Apart._] 'Tis not past sufferance. Marry, I could stay Some moments longer, till the streets be safe.

Sir, sir!

THE PLAYER [_returning_].

Command me, madam.

ANNE. I will wait A little longer, lest I meet once more That ruffian mob or any of the dogs.

These sports are better seen from balconies.

THE PLAYER.

Will you step hither? There's an arbored walk Sheltered and safe. Should they come by again, You may see all, an't like you, and be hid.

ANNE.

A garden there? Come, you shall show it me.

[_They go out into the garden on the right, leaving the door shut.

Immediately enter, in great haste, MARY FYTTON and WILLIAM HERBERT, followed by d.i.c.kON, who looks about and, seeing no one, goes to setting things in order._]

MARY.

Quick, quick!... She must have seen me. Those big eyes, How could they miss me, peering as she was For some familiar face? She would have known, Even before my mask was jostled off In that wild rabble ... bears and bearish men.

HERBERT.

Why would you have me bring you?

MARY. Why? Ah, why!

Sooth, once I had a reason: now 'tis lost,-- Lost! Lost! Call out the bell-man.

d.i.c.kON [_seriously_]. Shall I so?

HERBERT.

Nay, nay; that were a merriment indeed, To cry us through the streets! [_To MARY._] You riddling charm.

MARY.

A riddle, yet? You almost love me, then.

HERBERT.

Almost?

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One-Act Plays Part 89 summary

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