A Select Collection of Old English Plays Volume Vii Part 51

Well, well, I would my daughter had a husband, For I would see how she would demean herself In that estate; it may be, ill enough,-- And, so G.o.d shall help me, well-remembered now!

Frank Goursey is his father's son and heir: A youth that in my heart I have good hope on; My senses say a match, my soul applauds The motion: O, but his lands are great, He will look high; why, I will strain myself To make her dowry equal with his land.

Good faith, and 'twere a match, 'twould be a means To make their mothers friends. I'll call my daughter, To see how she's dispos'd to marriage.-- Mall, where are ye?

_Enter_ MALL.

MALL. Father, here I am.

MR BAR. Where is your mother?

MALL. I saw her not, forsooth, since you and she Went walking both together to the garden.

MR BAR. Dost thou hear me, girl? I must dispute with thee.

MALL. Father, the question then must not be hard, For I am very weak in argument.

MR BAR. Well, this it is; I say 'tis good to marry.

MALL. And this say I, 'tis not good to marry.

MR BAR. Were it not good, then all men would not marry; But now they do.

MALL. Marry, not all; but it is good to marry.

MR BAR. Is it both good and bad; how can this be?

MALL. Why, it is good to them that marry well; To them that marry ill, no greater h.e.l.l.

MR BAR. If thou might marry well, wouldst thou agree?

MALL. I cannot tell; heaven must appoint for me.

MR BAR. Wench, I am studying for thy good indeed.

MALL. My hopes and duty wish your thoughts good speed.

MR BAR. But tell me, wench, hast thou a mind to marry?

MALL. This question is too hard for bashfulness; And, father, now ye pose my modesty.

I am a maid, and when ye ask me thus, I, like a maid, must blush, look pale and wan, And then look red[251] again; for we change colour, As our thoughts change. With true-fac'd pa.s.sion Of modest maidenhead I could adorn me, And to your question make a sober cour'sey, And with close-clipp'd civility be silent; Or else say "No, forsooth," or "Ay, forsooth."

If I said, "No, forsooth," I lied forsooth: To lie upon myself were deadly sin, Therefore I will speak truth and shame the devil.

Father, when first I heard ye name a husband, At that same very time my spirits quickened.

Despair before had kill'd them, they were dead: Because it was my hap so long to tarry, I was persuaded I should never marry; And sitting sewing thus upon the ground, I fell in trance of meditation; But coming to myself, "O Lord," said I, "Shall it be so I must I unmarried die?"

And, being angry, father, farther, said-- "Now, by Saint Anne, I will not die a maid!"

Good faith, before I came to this ripe growth, I did accuse the labouring time of sloth; Methought the year did run but slow about, For I thought each year ten I was without.

Being fourteen and toward the tother year, Good Lord, thought I, fifteen will ne'er be here!

For I have heard my mother say that then Pretty maids were fit for handsome men: Fifteen past, sixteen, and seventeen too, What, thought I, will not this husband do?

Will no man marry me? have men forsworn Such beauty and such youth? shall youth be worn As rich men's gowns, more with age than use?

Why, then I let restrained fancy loose, And bad it gaze for pleasure; then love swore me To do whate'er my mother did before me; Yet, in good faith, I have been very loth, But now it lies in you to save my oath: If I shall have a husband, get him quickly, For maids that wear cork shoes may step awry.

MR BAR. Believe me, wench, I do not reprehend[252] thee, But for this pleasant answer do commend thee.

I must confess, love doth thee mighty wrong, But I will see thee have thy right ere long; I know a young man, whom I hold most fit To have thee both for living and for wit: I will go write about it presently.

MALL. Good father, do. [_Exit_ [BARNES].

O G.o.d, methinks I should Wife it as fine as any woman could!

I could carry a port to be obeyed, Carry a mastering eye upon my maid, With "Minion, do your business, or I'll make ye,"

And to all house authority betake me.

O G.o.d! would I were married! by my troth, But if I be not, I swear I'll keep my oath.

_Enter_ MRS BARNES.

MRS BAR. How now, minion, where have you been gadding?

MALL. Forsooth, my father called me forth to him.

MRS BAR. Your father! and what said he to ye, I pray?

MALL. Nothing, forsooth.

MRS BAR. Nothing! that cannot be; something he said.

MALL. Ay, something that as good as nothing was.

MRS BAR. Come, let me hear that something-nothing, then.

MALL. Nothing but of a husband for me, mother.

MRS BAR. A husband! that was something; but what husband?

MALL. Nay, faith, I know not, mother: would I did!

MRS BAR. Ay, "would ye did!" i'faith, are ye so hasty?

MALL. Hasty, mother! why, how old am I?

MRS BAR. Too young to marry.

MALL. Nay, by the ma.s.s, ye lie.

Mother, how old were you when you did marry?

MRS BAR. How old soe'er I was, yet you shall tarry.

MALL. Then the worse for me. Hark, mother, hark!

The priest forgets that e'er he was a clerk: When you were at my years, I'll hold my life, Your mind was to change maidenhead for wife.

Pardon me, mother, I am of your mind, And, by my troth, I take it but by kind.[253]

MRS BAR. Do ye hear, daughter? you shall stay my leisure.

MALL. Do you hear, mother? would you stay from pleasure, When ye have mind to it? Go to, there's no wrong Like this, to let maids lie alone so long: Lying alone they muse but in their beds, How they might lose their long-kept maidenheads.

This is the cause there is so many scapes, For women that are wise will not lead apes In h.e.l.l: I tell ye, mother, I say true; Therefore come husband: maidenhead adieu! [_Exit_.