A Select Collection of Old English Plays, Vol. IX | Page 5

children, Go back again? nay, we will in, that's sure.
O. LUS. In, quotha! do you make a doubt of that; Shall we come thus
far, and in such post-haste, And have our children here, and both within,
And not behold them e'er our back-return? It were unfriendly and
unfatherly. Come, Master Arthur, pray you follow me.
O. ART. Nay, but hark you, sir, will you not knock?
O. LUS. Is't best to knock?
O. ART. Ay, knock in any case.
O. LUS. 'Twas well you put it in my mind to knock, I had forgotten it
else, I promise you.
O. ART. Tush, is't not my son's and your daughter's door, And shall we
two stand knocking? Lead the way.
O. LUS. Knock at our children's doors! that were a jest. Are we such
fools to make ourselves so strange, Where we should still be boldest?
In, for shame! We will not stand upon such ceremonies.
[Exeunt.

SCENE III.
The Street.
Enter ANSELM and FULLER.

FUL. Speak: in what cue, sir, do you find your heart, Now thou hast
slept a little on thy love?
ANS. Like one that strives to shun a little plash Of shallow water, and
(avoiding it) Plunges into a river past his depth: Like one that from a
small spark steps aside, And falls in headlong to a greater flame.
FUL. But in such fires scorch not thyself, for shame! If she be fire, thou
art so far from burning, That thou hast scarce yet warm'd thee at her
face; But list to me, I'll turn thy heart from love, And make thee loathe
all of the feminine sex. They that have known me, knew me once of
name To be a perfect wencher: I have tried All sorts, all sects, all states,
and find them still Inconstant, fickle, always variable. Attend me, man!
I will prescribe a method, How thou shalt win her without all
peradventure.
ANS. That would I gladly hear.
FUL. I was once like thee, A sigher, melancholy humorist, Crosser of
arms, a goer without garters, A hatband-hater, and a busk-point[4]
wearer, One that did use much bracelets made of hair, Rings on my
fingers, jewels in mine ears, And now and then a wench's carcanet,
Scarfs, garters, bands, wrought waistcoats, gold-stitch'd caps, A
thousand of those female fooleries; but when I look'd into the glass of
reason, straight I began to loathe that female bravery, And henceforth
studied[5] to cry Peccavi to the world.
ANS. I pray you, to your former argument: Prescribe a means to win
my best-belov'd.
FUL. First, be not bashful, bar all blushing tricks: Be not too
apish-female; do not come With foolish sonnets to present her with,
With legs, with curtsies, congees, and such like: Nor with penn'd
speeches, or too far-fetch'd sighs: I hate such antique, quaint formality.
ANS. O, but I cannot snatch[6] occasion: She dashes every proffer with
a frown.

FUL. A frown, a fool! art thou afraid of frowns? He that will leave
occasion for a frown, Were I his judge (all you his case bemoan), His
doom should be ever to lie alone.
ANS. I cannot choose but, when a wench says nay, To take her at her
word, and leave my suit.
FUL. Continue that opinion, and be sure To die a virgin chaste, a
maiden pure. It was my chance once, in my wanton days, To court a
wench; hark, and I'll tell thee how: I came unto my love, and she look'd
coy, I spake unto my love, she turn'd aside, I touch'd my love, and 'gan
with her to toy, But she sat mute, for anger or for pride; I striv'd and
kiss'd my love, she cry'd _Away_! Thou wouldst have left her thus--I
made her stay. I catch'd my love, and wrung her by the hand: I took my
love, and set her on my knee, And pull'd her to me; O, you spoil my
band, You hurt me, sir; pray, let me go, quoth she. I'm glad, quoth I,
that you have found your tongue, And still my love I by the finger
wrung. I ask'd her if she lov'd me; she said, No. I bad her swear; she
straight calls for a book; Nay then, thought I, 'tis time to let her go, I
eas'd my knee, and from her cast a look. She leaves me wond'ring at
these strange affairs, And like the wind she trips me up the stairs. I left
the room below, and up I went, Finding her thrown upon her wanton
bed: I ask'd the cause of her sad discontent; Further she lies, and,
making room, she said, Now, sweeting, kiss me, having time and place;
So clings me to her with a sweet embrace.
ANS. Is't possible?