SCENE III.[1924

SUBTLE. [_Enter_] FACE [_in his uniform_].

_Sub._ How now! good prize?

_Face._ Good pox! Yond’ costive cheater Never came on.

_Sub._ How then?

_Face._ I ha’ walk’d the round Till now, and no such thing.

_Sub._ And ha’ you quit him?

_Face._ Quit him! An hell would quit him too, he were happy. ’Slight! would you have me stalk like a mill-jade, 5 All day, for one that will not yield us grains? I know him of old.

_Sub._ O, but to ha’ gull’d him, Had been a mastery.

_Face._ Let him go, black boy! And turn thee, that some fresh news may possess thee. A noble count, a don of Spain (my dear 10 Delicious compeer, and my party[1925]-bawd), Who is come hither private for his conscience And brought munition with him, six great slops,[1926] Bigger than three Dutch hoys,[1927] beside round trunks,[1928] 14 Furnish’d with pistolets,[1929] and pieces of eight,[1930] Will straight be here, my rogue, to have thy bath, (That is the colour,[1931]) and to make his batt’ry Upon our Dol, our castle, our cinqueport, Our Dover pier, our what thou wilt. Where is she? She must prepare perfumes, delicate linen, 20 The bath in chief, a banquet, and her wit, Where is the doxy?

_Sub._ I’ll send her to thee: And but despatch my brace of little John Leydens[1932] And come again myself.

_Face._ Are they within then?

_Sub._ Numb’ring the sum.

_Face._ How much?

_Sub._ A hundred marks, boy. [_Exit._]

_Face._ Why, this is a lucky day. Ten pounds of Mammon! 26 Three o’ my clerk! A portague o’ my grocer! This o’ the brethren! Beside reversions And states to come, i’ the widow, and my count! My share to-day will not be bought for forty——-

[_Enter_ DOL].

_Dol._ What? 30

_Face._ Pounds, dainty Dorothy! Art thou so near?

_Dol._ Yes; say, lord general, how fares our camp?

_Face._ As with the few that had entrench’d themselves Safe, by their discipline, against a world, Dol, And laugh’d within those trenches, and grew fat 35 With thinking on the booties, Dol, brought in Daily by their small parties. This dear hour, A doughty don is taken with my Dol; And thou mayst make his ransom what thou wilt. My Dousabel;[1933] he shall be brought here, fetter’d 40 With thy fair looks, before he sees thee; and thrown In a down-bed, as dark as any dungeon; Where thou shalt keep him waking with thy drum; Thy drum, my Dol, thy drum; till he be tame As the poor blackbirds were i’ the great frost, Or bees are with a bason; and so hive him 46 I’ the swan-skin coverlid and cambric sheets, Till he work honey and wax, my little God’s-gift.[1934]

_Dol._ What is he, general?

_Face._ An adalantado,[1935] 49 A grandee, girl. Was not my Dapper here yet?

_Dol._ No.

_Face._ Nor my Drugger?

_Dol._ Neither.

_Face._ A pox on ’em, They are so long a furnishing! such stinkards Would not be seen upon these festival days.— [_Re-enter_ SUBTLE.] How now! ha’ you done?

_Sub._ Done. They are gone: the sum Is here in bank, my Face. I would we knew 55 Another chapman who would buy ’em outright.

_Face._ ’Slid, Nab shall do’t against he ha’ the widow, To furnish household.

_Sub._ Excellent, well thought on: Pray God he come.

_Face._ I pray he keep away Till our new business be o’erpast.

_Sub._ But, Face, 60 How camst thou by this secret don?

_Face._ A spirit Brought me th’ intelligence in a paper here, As I was conjuring yonder in my circle For Surly; I ha’ my flies[1936] abroad. Your bath Is famous, Subtle, by my means. Sweet Dol, 65 You must go tune your virginal, no losing O’ the least time. And—do you hear?—good action! Firk like a flounder; kiss like a scallop, close; And tickle him with thy mother-tongue. His great Verdugoship[1937] has not a jot of language; 70 So much the easier to be cozen’d, my Dolly. He will come here in a hir’d coach, obscure, And our own coachman, whom I have sent as guide, No creature else. (_One knocks._) Who’s that? [_Exit_ DOL.]

_Sub._ It is not he?

_Face._ O no, not yet this hour.

[_Re-enter_ DOL.]

_Sub._ Who is’t?

_Dol._ Dapper, 75 Your clerk.

_Face._ God’s will then, Queen of Fairy, On with your tire; [_Exit_ DOL.] and, doctor, with your robes. Let’s despatch him for God’s sake.

_Sub._ ’T will be long.

_Face._ I warrant you, take but the cues I give you, It shall be brief enough. [_Goes to the window._] ’Slight, here are more! 80 Abel, and I think the angry boy, the heir, That fain would quarrel.

_Sub._ And the widow?

_Face._ No, Not that I see. Away! [_Exit_ SUB.]