I will have no great store of company at the wedding;
a couple of neighbours and their wives; and we will have
a capon in stewed broth, with marrow, and a good piece
of beef stuck with rosemary.
Enter JASPER, with his Face mealed.
Forbear thy pains, fond man! it is too late.
Heaven bless me! Jasper!
Ay, I am his ghost,
Whom thou hast injured for his constant love;
Fond worldly wretch I who dost not understand
In death that true hearts cannot parted be.
First know, thy daughter is quite borne away
On wings of angels, through the liquid air,
To far out of thy reach, and never more
Shalt thou behold her face: but she and I
Will in another world enjoy our loves;
Where neither father's anger, poverty,
Nor any cross that troubles earthly men,
Shall make us sever our united hearts.
And never shalt thou sit or be alone
In any place, but I will visit thee
With ghastly looks, and put into thy mind
The great offences which thou didst to me:
When thou art at thy table with thy friends,
Merry in heart, and filled with swelling wine,
I'll come in midst of all thy pride and mirth,
Invisible to all men but thyself,
And whisper such a sad tale in thine ear
Shall make thee let the cup fall from thy hand,
And stand as mute and pale as death itself.
Forgive me, Jasper! Oh, what might I do,
Tell me, to satisfy thy troubled ghost?
There is no means; too late thou think'st of this.
But tell me what were best for me to do?
Repent thy deed, and satisfy my father,
And beat fond Humphrey out of thy doors.
Look, George; his very ghost would have folks
Father, my bride is gone, fair Mistress Luce:
My soul's the fount of vengeance, mischief's sluice.
Hence, fool, out of my sight with thy fond passion!
Thou hast undone me.
Hold, my father dear,
For Luce thy daughter's sake, that had no peer!
Thy father, fool I there's some blows more; begone.
Jasper, I hope thy ghost be well appeased
To see thy will performed. Now will I go
To satisfy thy father for thy wrongs.
[Aside and exit.
What shall I do? I have been beaten twice,
And Mistress Luce is gone. Help me, device!
Since my true love is gone, I never more,
Whilst I do live, upon the sky will pore;
But in the dark will wear out my shoe-soles
In passion in Saint Faith's church under Paul's.
George, call Ralph hither; if you love me, call Ralph
hither: I have the bravest thing for him to do, George;
prithee, call him quickly.
Ralph! why, Ralph, boy!
Come hither, Ralph; come to thy mistress, boy.
Ralph, I would have thee call all the youths together
in battle-ray, with drums, and guns, and flags, and march
to Mile-End in pompous fashion, and there exhort your
soldiers to be merry and wise, and to keep their beards
from burning, Ralph; and then skirmish, and let your
flags fly, and cry, Kill, kill, kill! My husband shall
lend you his jerkin, Ralph, and there's a scarf; for the
rest, the house shall furnish you, and we'll pay for't. Do
it bravely, Ralph; and think before whom you perform,
and what person, you represent.
I warrant you, mistress; if I do it not, for the honour
of the city and the credit of my master, let me never
hope for freedom!
'Tis well spoken, i'faith. Go thy ways; thou art a
Ralph, Ralph, double your files bravely, Ralph!
I warrant you, sir.
Let him look narrowly to his service; I shall take him
else. I was there myself a pikeman once, in the hottest
of the day, wench; had my feather shot sheer away, the
fringe of my pike burnt off with powder, my pate broken
with a scouring-stick, and yet, I thank God, I am here.
Hark, George, the drums!
Ran, tan, tan, tan, tan, tan! Oh, wench, an thou hadst
but seen little Ned of Aldgate, Drum-Ned, how he made
it roar again, and laid on like a tyrant, and then struck
softly till the ward came up, and then thundered again,
and together we go! Sa, sa, sa, bounce! quoth the
guns; Courage, my hearts! quoth the captains;
Saint George! quoth the pikemen; and withal, here
they lay: and there they lay: and yet for all this I am
Be thankful for it, George; for indeed 'tis wonderful.]