But is there no hope of his recovery?
BAL. None at all, sir; for he's already laid to be arrested by some that I know.
SIR LIONEL. Well, I do suffer for him, and am loth Indeed to do what I'm constrain'd to do: Well, sir, I mean to seize on what is left.
And, hark ye--one word more. [_Whispers._
JOYCE. What heinous sin has yonder man committed, To have so great a punishment, as wait Upon the humours of an idle fool?
A very proper fellow, good leg, good face, A body well-proportioned; but his mind Bewrays he never came of generous kind.
_Enter_ WILL RASH _and_ GERALDINE.
SIR LIONEL. Go to; no more of this at this time.
What, sir, are you come?
W. RASH. Yes, sir; and have made bold to bring a guest along.
SIR LIONEL. Master Geraldine's son of Essex?
GERA. The same, sir.
SIR LIONEL. You're welcome, sir; when will your father be in town?
GERA. 'Twill not be long, sir.
SIR LIONEL. I shall be glad to see him when he comes.
GERA. I thank you, sir.
SIR LIONEL. In the meantime, you're welcome; pray, be not strange. I'll leave my son amongst you, gentlemen. I have some business. Hark you, Master Balance--Dinner will soon be ready. One word more----
[_Exeunt_ SIR LIONEL _and_ BALANCE.
W. RASH. And how does my little Asinus and his _Tu quoque_, here? O, you pretty sweet-faced rogues! that for your countenances might be Alexander and Lodwick.[193] What says the old man to you! will't be a match?
shall we call brothers?
SCAT. I' faith, with all my heart: if Mistress Gertrude will, we will be married to-morrow.
BUB. 'Sfoot, if Mistress Joyce will, we'll be married to-night.
W. RASH. Why, you courageous boys, and worthy wenches made out of wax!
But what shall's do when we have dined? shall's go see a play?
SCAT. Yes, faith, brother, if it please you: let's go see a play at the Globe.
BUB. I care not; any whither, so the clown have a part; for, i' faith, I am nobody without a fool.
GERA. Why, then, we'll go to the Red Bull: they say Green's a good clown.
BUB. Green! Green's an ass.
SCAT. Wherefore do you say so?
BUB. Indeed, I ha' no reason; for they say he is as like me as ever he can look.
SCAT. Well, then, to the Bull.
W. RASH. A good resolution!--continue it: nay, on.
BUB. Not before the gentlewomen; not I, never.
W. RASH. O, while you live, men before women: custom hath placed it so.
BUB. Why, then, custom is not so mannerly as I would be.
[_Exeunt_ BUBBLE _and_ SCATTERGOOD.
W. RASH. Farewell, Master Scattergood. Come, lover, you're too busy here. I must tutor ye: cast not your eye at the table on each other; my father will spy you without spectacles; he is a shrewd observer. Do you hear me?
GERA. Very well, sir.
W. RASH. Come, then, go we together; let the wenches alone. Do you see yonder fellow?
GERA. Yes; prythee, what is he?
W. RASH. I'll give you him within: he must Not now be thought on; but you shall know him.
[_Exeunt_ WILL RASH _and_ GERALDINE.
GERT. I have observ'd my sister, and her eye Is much inquisitive after yond' fellow; She has examin'd him from head to foot: I'll stay and see the issue. [_Withdraws a little._]
JOYCE. To wrastle 'gainst the stream of our affection, Is to strike air, or buffet with the wind That plays upon us. I have striv'd to cast This fellow from my thoughts, but still he grows More comely in my sight: yet [is] a slave, Unto one worse-condition'd than a slave.
They are all gone; here's none but he and I: Now I will speak to him--and yet I will not.
O, I [do] wrong myself; I will suppress That insurrection love hath train'd in me, And leave him as he is. Once my bold spirit Had vow'd to utter all my thoughts to him, On whom I settled my affection, And why retires it now?
STAINES. Fight, love, on both sides; for on me thou strik'st Strokes that have beat my heart into a flame.
She hath sent amorous glances from her eye, Which I have back return'd as faithfully.
I would make to her, but these servile robes Curb that suggestion, till some fitter time Shall bring me more persuadingly unto her. [_Aside._
JOYCE. I wonder why he stays; I fear he notes me, For I have publicly betray'd myself By too much gazing on him. I will leave him. [_Aside._
GERT. But you shall not: I'll make you speak to him Before you go. Do you hear, sir?
JOYCE. What mean you, sister?
GERT. To fit you in your kind, sister. Do you remember How you once tyrannis'd o'er me?
JOYCE. Nay, prythee, leave this jesting; I am out of the vein.[194]
GERT. Ay, but I am in. Go and speak to your lover.