Beggars Bush - BestLightNovel.com
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_Van._ Doe: and I drink to it.
_Gos._ Prethee say so, Love.
_Ger._ 'Twould take away the honour from my blushes: Do not you play the tyrant, sweet: they speak it.
_Hem._ I thank you niece.
_Gos._ Sir, thank her for your life, And fetch your sword within.
_Hem._ You insult too much With your good fortune, Sir. [_Exeunt_ Gos. _and_ Ger.
_Hub._ A brave clear Spirit; _Hemskirk_, you were to blame: a civil habit Oft covers a good man: and you may meet In person of a Merchant, with a soul As resolute, and free, and all wayes worthy, As else in any file of man-kind: pray you, What meant you so to slight him?
_Hem._ 'Tis done now, Ask no more of it; I must suffer. [_Exit_ Hemskirk.
_Hub._ This Is still the punishment of rashness, sorrow.
Well; I must to the woods, for nothing here Will be got out. There, I may chance to learn Somewhat to help my enquiries further.
_Van._ Ha?
A Looking-gla.s.s?
_Hub._ How now, brave _Burgomaster_?
_Van._ I love no _Wolforts_, and my name's _Vandunk_,
_Hub._ _Van drunk_ it's rather: come, go sleep within.
_Van._ Earl _Florez_ is right heir, and this same _Wolfort_ Under the Rose I speak it--
_Hub._ Very hardly.
_Van-d._ Usurps: and a rank Traitor, as ever breath'd, And all that do uphold him. Let me goe, No man shall hold me, that upholds him; Do you uphold him?
_Hub._ No.
_Van._ Then hold me up. [_Exeunt._
_Enter_ Goswin, _and_ Hemskirk.
_Hem._ Sir, I presume, you have a sword of your own, That can so handle anothers.
_Gos._ Faith you may Sir.
_Hem._ And ye have made me have so much better thoughts of you As I am bound to call you forth.
_Gos._ For what Sir?
_Hem._ To the repairing of mine honour, and hurt here.
_Gos._ Express your way.
_Hem._ By fight, and speedily.
_Gos._ You have your will: Require you any more?
_Hem._ That you be secret: and come single.
_Gos._ I will.
_Hem._ As you are the Gentleman you would be thought.
_Gos._ Without the Conjuration: and I'le bring Only my sword, which I will fit to yours, I'le take his length within.
_Hem._ Your place now Sir?
_Gos._ By the Sand-hills.
_Hem._ Sir, nearer to the woods, If you thought so, were fitter.
_Gos._ There, then.
_Hem._ Good.
Your time?
_Gos._ 'Twixt seven and eight.
_Hem._ You'l give me Sir Cause to report you worthy of my Niece, If you come, like your promise.
_Gos._ If I do not, Let no man think to call me unworthy first, I'le do't my self, and justly wish to want her.-- [_Exeunt._
_ACTUS TERTIUS. SCENA PRIMA._
_Enter three or four_ Boors.
_1 B._ Come, _English_ beer Hostess, _English_ beer by th' belly.
_2 B._ Stark beer boy, stout and strong beer: so, sit down Lads, And drink me upsey-Dutch: Frolick, and fear not.
_Enter_ Higgen _like a Sow-gelder, singing._
Hig. _Have ye any work for the Sow-gelder, hoa, My horn goes too high too low, too high too low.
Have ye any Piggs, Calves, or Colts, Have ye any Lambs in your holts To cut for the Stone, Here comes a cunning one.
Have ye any braches to spade, Or e're a fair maid That would be a Nun, Come kiss me, 'tis done.
Hark how my merry horn doth blow, Too high too low, too high too low._
