A Select Collection of Old English Plays Volume I Part 11

_Hic exeat_ PARMENO _et intret_ MELIBAEA.

MEL. I pray you, came this woman here never sin'?[58]

In faith, to enter here I am half adrad; And yet why so? I may boldly come in: I am sure from you all I shall not be had.

But, Jesus, Jesus, be these men so mad On women, as they say? how should it be?

It is but fables and lies, ye may trust me.

_Intret_ CELESTINA.

CEL. G.o.d be here!

MEL. Who is there?

CEL. Will ye buy any thread?

MEL. Yea, marry, good mother, I pray you come in.

CEL. Christ save you, fair mistress, and G.o.d be your speed; And health be to you and your kin; And Mary, G.o.d's mother, that blessed virgin, Preserve and prosper your womanly personage, And well to enjoy your youth and pucellage!

For that time pleasures are most escheved;[59]

And age is the hospital of all manner sickness, The resting-place of all thought unrelieved; The sport of time, past the end of all quickness: Neighbour to death; a dry stock without sweetness: Discomfort, disease all age alloweth; A tree without sap, that small charge boweth.

MEL. I marvel, mother, ye speak so much ill Of age, that all folk desire effectuously.

CEL. They desire hurt for themselves as all of will; And the cause why they desire to come thereby, Is for to live; for death is so loathly.

He that is sorrowful would live to be sorrier, And he that is old would live to be older.

Fair damsel, who can show all the hurts of age?

His weariness, feebleness, his discontenting; His childishness, frowardness of his rage; Wrinkling in the face, lack of sight and hearing; Hollowness of mouth, fall of teeth, faint of going; And, worst of all, possessed with poverty, And the limbs arrested with debility.

MEL. Mother, ye have taken great pain for age, Would ye not return to the beginning?

CEL. Fools are they that are past their pa.s.sage, To begin again, which be at the ending; For better is possession than the desiring.

MEL. I desire to live longer; do I well, or no?

CEL. That ye desire well, I think not so; For as soon goeth to market the lamb's fell As the sheep's;[60] none so old but may live a year; And there is none so young but, ye wot well, May die in a day. Then no advantage is here Between youth and age; the matter is clear.

MEL. With thy fabling and thy reasoning, i-wis, I am beguiled; but I have known thee ere this: Art not Celestine, that dwelleth by the river side?

CEL. Yea, forsooth.

MEL. Indeed, age hath arrayed[61] thee!

That thou art she, now can scant be espied.

Me thinketh by thy favour thou shouldest be she: Thou art sore changed, thou mayest believe me.

CEL. Fair maiden, keep thou well this time of youth; But beauty shall pa.s.s at the last, this is truth: Yet I am not so old as ye judge me.

MEL. Good mother, I joy much of thine accointenance,[62]

And thy motherly reasons right well please me.

And now I thank thee here for thy pastance.

Farewell, till another time, that hap may chance, Again that we two may meet together.

Mayhap ye have business, I know not whither.

CEL. O angelic image! O heart so precious!

Oh, how thou speakest, it rejoiceth me to hear.

Knowest thou not by the divine mouth gracious, That against the infernal fiend Lucifer We should not only live by bread here, But by our good works, wherein I take some pain: If ye know not my mind now, all is in vain.

MEL. Show me, mother, hardily all thy necessity, And, if I can, I shall provide the remedy.

CEL. My necessity! nay, G.o.d wot, it is not for me: As for mine, I left it at home surely.

To eat when I will, and drink when I am dry; And I thank G.o.d ever one penny hath been mine, To buy bread when I list, and to have four for wine.

Before I was widow, I cared never for it, For I had wine enough of mine own to sell; And with a toast in wine by the fire I could sit, With two dozen sops the colic to quell; But now with me it is not so well, For I have nothing but that is brought me In a pitcher-pot of quarts scant three.

Thus I pray G.o.d help them that be needy; For I speak not for myself alone, But as well for other, however speed I.

The infirmity is not mine, though that I groan, It is for another that I make moan, And not for myself: it is another way, But what I must moan, where I dare not say.

MEL. Say what thou wilt, and for whom thou lest.[63]

CEL. Now, gracious damsel, I thank you then, That to give audience ye be so prest, With liberal readiness to me old woman, Which giveth me boldness to show what I can Of one that lieth in danger by sickness Remitting his languor to your gentleness.

MEL. What meanest thou, I pray thee, gentle mother?

Go forth with thy demand, as thou hast done.

On the one part thou provokest me to anger, And on the other side to compa.s.sion: I know not how thy answer to fas.h.i.+on.

The words which thou speakest in my presence Be so misty, I perceive not thy sentence.

CEL. I said I left one in danger of sickness, Drawing to death for ought that I can see: Now choose you or no to be murderess, Or revive him with a word to come from thee?

MEL. I am happy, if my word be of such necessity, To help any Christian man, or else G.o.ds forbid: To do a good deed is liking to G.o.d, For good deeds to good men be allowable, And specially to needy above all other; And ever to good deeds ye shall find me agreeable, Trusting ye will exhort me to none other.

Therefore, fear not, speak your pet.i.tion, good mother, For they that may heal sick folk, and do refuse them, Surely of their death they cannot excuse them.

CEL. Full well and graciously the case ye consider, For I never believed that G.o.d in vain Would give you such countenance and beauty together, But charity therewith to relieve folk in pain; And as G.o.d hath given you, so give him again.

For folks be not made for themselves only, For then they should live like beasts all rudely, Among which beasts yet some be pitiful,[64]

The unicorn humbleth himself to a maid;[65]

And a dog in all his power ireful, Let a man fall to ground, his anger is delayed:[66]

Thus by nature pity is conveyed.

The c.o.c.k, when he sc.r.a.peth, and happeth meat to find, Calleth for his hens: lo! see the gentle kind!

Should human creatures then be of cruelness?

Should not they to their neighbours show charity, And specially to them wrapped in sickness, When[67] they that may heal them cause the infirmity?

MEL. Mother, without delay, for G.o.d's sake show me, I pray thee heartily, without more praying, Where is the patient that so is paining.[68]

CEL. Fair damsel, thou mayest well have knowledge hereto: That in this city is a young knight, And of clear lineage, called Calisto, Whose life and body is all in thee, I plight.

The pelican, to show nature's right, Feedeth his birds,--methinketh I should not preach thee!

Thou wotest what I mean, as nature should teach thee.

MEL. Ha, ha, is this the intent of thy conclusion?

Tell me no more of this matter, I charge thee.

Is this the dolent[69] for whom thou makest pet.i.tion?

Art thou come hither thus to deceive me?

Thou bearded dame, shameless thou seemest to be!

Is this he that hath the pa.s.sion of foolishness?

Thinkest, thou ribald, I am such an one of lewdness?

It is not said, I see well, in vain: The tongue of man and woman worst members be; Thou brute bawd, thou great enemy to honesty, certain; Cause of secret errors: Jesu, Jesu, benedicite Some good body take this old thief from me, That thus would me deceive with her false sleight!

Go out of my sight now! get thee hence straight!

CEL. In an evil hour came I hither, I may say; I would I had broken my legs twain.

MEL. Go hence, thou brothel, go hence, in the devil way!

Bidest thou yet to increase my pain?

Wilt thou make me of this fool to be fain?

To give him life, to make him merry, And to myself death, to make me sorry?

Wilt thou bear away profit for my perdition, And make me lese the house of my father, To win the house of such an old matron As thou art, shamefullest of all other?

Thinkest thou that I understand not, thou false mother, Thy hurtful message, thy false subtle ways?

Make amends to G.o.d, thou livest too long days!

Answer, thou traitress, how darest be so bold?

CEL. The fear of thee maketh me so dismayed, That the blood of my body is almost cold.

Alas! fair maiden, what hast thou said To me poor widow? why am I denied?

Hear my conclusion, which is of honesty; Without cause ye blame this gentleman and me.

MEL. I say I will hear no more of that fool: Was he not here with me even now?

Thou old witch, thou bringest me in great dole: Ask him what answer he had of me, and how I took his demand, as now know mayest thou, More showing is but lost, where no mercy can be.

Thus I answered him, and thus I answer thee.

CEL. The more strange she maketh, the gladder am I: There is no tempest, that ever doth endure. [_Aside_.

MEL. What say'st thou, what say'st, thou shameful enemy?

Speak out.

CEL. So 'feard I am of your displeasure; Your anger is so great, I perceive it sure, And your patience is in so great an heat, That for woe and fear I both weep and sweat.

MEL. Little is the heat in comparison to say To the great boldness of thy demeaning.

CEL. Fair maiden, yet one word, now I you pray: Appease with patience, and bear my saying.

It is for a prayer, mistress, my demanding, That is said ye have of Saint Appoline, For the toothache, whereof this man is in pain.

And the girdle there thou wearest about thee, And so many holy relics it hath touched, That this knight thinketh his boot thou may'st be.

Therefore let thy pity now be avouched; For my heart for fear like a dog is couched.

The delight of vengeance whoso doth use, Pity at their need shall them refuse.