A Select Collection of Old English Plays, Volume 09 · Chapter 20Wily Beguiled.[140] (2)
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MOTHER MIDNIGHT. Faith, at thy request, I'll take her home, and try her a week longer.
NURSE. Come on, huswife; please your granam, and be a good wench, and you shall ha' my blessing.
MOTHER MIDNIGHT. Come, follow us, good wench.
[Exeunt MOTHER MIDNIGHT and NURSE. Manet PEG.
PEG. Ay, farewell; fair weather after you. Your blessing, quotha? I'll not give a single halfpenny for't. Who would live under a mother's nose and a granam's tongue? A maid cannot love, or catch a lip-clip or a lap-clap, but here's such tittle-tattle, and Do not so, and Be not so light, and Be not so fond, and Do not kiss, and Do not love, and I cannot tell what; and I must love, an I hang for't.
[She sings.
A sweet thing is love, That rules both heart and mind: There is no comfort in the world To women that are kind.
Well. I'll not stay with her; stay, quotha? To be yawled and jawled at, and tumbled and thumbled, and tossed and turned, as I am by an old hag, I will not: no, I will not, i' faith.
Enter WILL CRICKET.
But stay, I must put on my smirking looks and smiling countenance, for here comes one makes 'bomination suit to be my sprused husband.
WILL CRICKET. Lord, that my heart would serve me to speak to her, now she talks of her sprused husband! Well, I'll set a good face on't. Now I'll clap me as close to her as Jone's buttocks of a close-stool, and come over her with my rolling, rattling, rumbling eloquence. Sweet Peg, honey Peg, fine Peg, dainty Peg, brave Peg, kind Peg, comely Peg; my nutting, my sweeting, my love, my dove, my honey, my bunny, my duck, my dear, and my darling:
Grace me with thy pleasant eyes, And love without delay; And cast not with thy crabbed looks A proper man away.
PEG. Why, William, what's the matter?
WILL CRICKET. What's the matter, quotha? Faith, I ha' been in a fair taking for you, a bots on you! for t'other day, after I had seen you, presently my belly began to rumble. What's the matter, thought I. With that I bethought myself, and the sweet comportance of that same sweet round face of thine came into my mind. Out went I, and, I'll be sworn, I was so near taken, that I was fain to cut all my points. And dost hear, Peg? if thou dost not grant me thy goodwill in the way of marriage, first and foremost I'll run out of my clothes, and then out of my wits for thee.
PEG. Nay, William, I would be loth you should do so for me.
WILL CRICKET. Will you look merrily on me, and love me then?
PEG. Faith, I care not greatly if I do.
WILL CRICKET. Care not greatly if I do? What an answer's that? If thou wilt say, I, Peg, take thee, William, to my spruse husband—
PEG. Why, so I will. But we must have more company for witnesses first.
[Enter Dancers and Piper.]
WILL CRICKET. That needs not. Here's good store of young men and maids here.
PEG. Why, then, here's my hand.
WILL CRICKET. Faith, that's honestly spoken. Say after me: I, Peg Pudding, promise thee, William Cricket, that I'll hold thee for my own sweet lily, while I have a head in mine eye and a face on my nose, a mouth in my tongue and all that a woman should have from the crown of my foot to the sole of my head. I'll clasp thee and clip thee, coll thee and kiss thee, till I be better than nought and worse than nothing. When thou art ready to sleep, I'll be ready to snort; when thou art in health, I'll be in gladness; when thou art sick, I'll be ready to die; when thou art mad, I'll run out of my wits, and thereupon I strike thee good luck. Well said, i' faith. O, I could find in my hose to pocket thee in my heart! Come, my heart of gold, let's have a dance at the making up of this match. Strike up, Tom Piper. [They dance. Come, Peg, I'll take the pains to bring thee homeward; and at twilight look for me again. [Exeunt.
Enter ROBIN GOODFELLOW and PETER PLOD-ALL.
ROBIN GOODFELLOW. Come hither, my honest friend. Master Churms told me you had a suit to me; what's the matter?
PETER PLOD-ALL. Pray ye, sir, is your name Robin Goodfellow?
ROBIN GOODFELLOW. My name is Robin Goodfellow.
PETER PLOD-ALL. Marry, sir, I hear you're a very cunning man, sir, and sir reverence of your worship, sir, I am going a-wooing to one Mistress Lelia, a gentlewoman here hard by. Pray ye, sir, tell me how I should behave myself, to get her to my wife, for, sir, there is a scholar about her; now, if you can tell me how I should wipe his nose of her, I would bestow a fee of you.
ROBIN GOODFELLOW. Let me see't, and thou shalt see what I'll say to thee. [He gives him money.] Well, follow my counsel, and, I'll warrant thee, I'll give thee a love-powder for thy wench, and a kind of nux vomica in a potion shall make her come off, i' faith.
PETER PLOD-ALL. Shall I trouble you so far as to take some pains with me? I am loth to have the dodge.
ROBIN GOODFELLOW. Tush! fear not the dodge. I'll rather put on my flashing red nose and my flaming face, and come wrapped in a calf's skin, and cry Bo bo. I'll fray the scholar, I warrant thee. But first go to her, try what thou canst do; perhaps she'll love thee without any further ado. But thou must tell her thou hast a good stock, some hundred or two a year, and that will set her hard, I warrant thee; for, by the mass, I was once in good comfort to have cosened a wench, and wott'st thou what I told her? I told her I had a hundred pound land a year in a place, where I have not the breadth of my little finger. I promised her to enfeoff her in forty pounds a year of it, and I think of my conscience, if I had had but as good a face as thine, I should have made her have cursed the time that ever she see it. And thus thou must do: crack and lie, and face, and thou shalt triumph mightily.
PETER PLOD-ALL. I need not do so, for I may say, and say true, I have lands and living enough for a country fellow.
ROBIN GOODFELLOW. By'r Lady, so had not I. I was fain to overreach, as many times I do; but now experience hath taught me so much craft that I excel in cunning.
PETER PLOD-ALL. Well, sir, then I'll be bold to trust to your cunning, and so I'll bid you farewell, and go forward. I'll to her, that's flat.
ROBIN GOODFELLOW. Do so, and let me hear how you speed.
PETER PLOD-ALL. That I will, sir. [Exit PETER.
ROBIN GOODFELLOW. Well, a good beginning makes a good end. Here's ten groats for doing nothing. I con Master Churms thanks for this, for this was his device; and therefore I'll go seek him out, and give him a quart of wine, and know of him how he deals with the scholar. [Exit.
Enter CHURMS and SOPHOS.
CHURMS. Why, look ye, sir; by the Lord, I can but wonder at her father; he knows you to be a gentleman of good bringing up, and though your wealth be not answerable to his, yet, by heavens, I think you are worthy to do far better than Lelia—yet I know she loves you dearly.
SOPHOS. The great Tartarian emperor, Tamar Cham, Joy'd not so much in his imperial crown, As Sophos joys in Lelia's hoped-for love, Whose looks would pierce an adamantine heart, And makes the proud beholders stand at gaze, To draw love's picture from her glancing eye.
CHURMS. And I will stretch my wits unto the highest strain, To further Sophos in his wish'd desires.
SOPHOS. Thanks, gentle sir. But truce awhile; here comes her father.
Enter GRIPE.
I must speak a word or two with him.
CHURMS. Ay, he'll give you your answer, I warrant ye. [Aside.
SOPHOS. God save you, sir.
GRIPE. O Master Sophos, I have longed to speak with you a great while. I hear you seek my daughter Lelia's love. I hope you will not seek to dishonest me, nor disgrace my daughter.
SOPHOS. No, sir; a man may ask a yea; a woman may say nay. She is in choice to take her choice, yet I must confess I love Lelia.
GRIPE. Sir, I must be plain with you. I like not of your love. Lelia's mine. I'll choose for Lelia, and therefore I would wish you not to frequent my house any more. It's better for you to ply your book, and seek for some preferment that way, than to seek for a wife before you know how to maintain her.
SOPHOS. I am not rich, I am not very poor; I neither want, nor ever shall exceed: The mean is my content; I live 'twixt two extremes.
GRIPE. Well, well; I tell ye I like not you should come to my house, and presume so proudly to match your poor pedigree with my daughter Lelia, and therefore I charge you to get off my ground, come no more at my house. I like not this learning without living, I.
SOPHOS. He needs must go that the devil drives: Sic virtus sine censu languet. [Exit SOPHOS.
GRIPE. O Master Churms, cry you mercy, sir; I saw not you. I think I have sent the scholar away with a flea in his ear. I trow, he'll come no more at my house.
CHURMS. No; for if he do, you may indict him for coming of your ground.
GRIPE. Well, now I'll home, and keep in my daughter. She shall neither go to him nor send to him; I'll watch her, I'll warrant her. Before God, Master Churms, it is the peevishest girl that ever I knew in my life; she will not be ruled, I doubt. Pray ye, sir, do you endeavour to persuade her to take Peter Plod-all.
CHURMS. I warrant ye, I'll persuade her; fear not.
[Exeunt.
Enter LELIA and NURSE.
LELIA. What sorrow seizeth on my heavy heart! Consuming care possesseth ev'ry part: Heart-sad Erinnis keeps his mansion here Within the closure of my woful breast; And black Despair with iron sceptre stands, And guides my thoughts down to his hateful cell. The wanton winds with whistling murmur bear My piercing plaints along the desert plains; And woods and groves do echo forth my woes: The earth below relents in crystal tears, When heav'ns above, by some malignant course Of fatal stars, are authors of my grief. Fond love, go hide thy shafts in folly's den, And let the world forget thy childish force; Or else fly, fly, pierce Sophos' tender breast, That he may help to sympathise these plaints, That wring these tears from Lelia's weeping eyes.
NURSE. Why, how now, mistress? what, is it love that makes you weep, and toss, and turn so a-nights, when you are in bed? Saint Leonard grant you fall not love-sick.
LELIA. Ay, that's the point that pierceth to the quick. Would Atropos would cut my vital thread, And so make lavish of my loathed life: Or gentle heav'ns would smile with fair aspect, And so give better fortunes to my love! Why, is't not a plague to be a prisoner to mine own father?
NURSE. Yes, and 't's a shame for him to use you so too: But be of good cheer, mistress; I'll go To Sophos ev'ry day; I'll bring you tidings And tokens too from him, I'll warrant ye; And if he'll send you a kiss or two, I'll bring it. Let me alone; I am good at a dead lift: Marry, I cannot blame you for loving of Sophos; Why, he's a man as one should picture him in wax. But, mistress—out upon's! wipe your eyes, For here comes another wooer.
Enter PETER PLOD-ALL.
PETER PLOD-ALL. Mistress Lelia, God speed you.
LELIA. That's more than we Need at this time, for we are doing nothing.
PETER PLOD-ALL. 'Twere as good say a good word as a bad.
LELIA. But it's more wisdom to say nothing at all, Than speak to no purpose.
PETER PLOD-ALL. My purpose is to wive you.
LELIA. And mine is never to wed you.
PETER PLOD-ALL. Belike, you are in love with somebody else.
NURSE. No, but she's lustily promised. Hear you—you with [the] long rifle by your side—do you lack a wife?
PETER PLOD-ALL. Call ye this [a] rifle? it's a good backsword.
NURSE. Why, then, you with [the] backsword, let's see your back.
PETER PLOD-ALL. Nay, I must speak with Mistress Lelia Before I go.
LELIA. What would you with me?
PETER PLOD-ALL. Marry, I have heard very well of you, and so has my father too; and he has sent me to you a-wooing; and if you have any mind of marriage, I hope I shall maintain you as well as any husbandman's wife in the country.
NURSE. Maintain her? with what?
PETER PLOD-ALL. Marry, with my lands and livings my father has promised me.
LELIA. I have heard much of your wealth, but I never knew you manners before now.
PETER PLOD-ALL. Faith, I have no manors, but a pretty home-stall; and we have great store of oxen and horses, and carts and ploughs and household-stuff 'bomination, and great flocks of sheep, and flocks of geese and capons, and hens and ducks. O, we have a fine yard of pullen! And, thank God, here's a fine weather for my father's lambs.
LELIA. I cannot live content in discontent: For as no music can delight the ears, Where all the parts of discords are composed. So wedlock-bands will still consist in jars, Where in condition there's no sympathy; Then rest yourself contented with this answer— I cannot love.
PETER PLOD-ALL. It's no matter what you say: for my father told me thus much before I came, that you would be something nice at first; but he bad me like you ne'er the worse for that, for I were the liker to speed.
LELIA. Then you were best leave off your suit till Some other time: and when my leisure serves me To love you, I'll send you word.
PETER PLOD-ALL. Will you? well then I'll take my leave of you; and if I may hear from you, I'll pay the messenger well for his pains. But stay—God's death! I had almost forgot myself! pray ye, let me kiss your hand, ere I go.
NURSE. Faith, mistress, his mouth runs a-water for a kiss; a little would serve his turn, belike: let him kiss your hand.
LELIA. I'll not stick for that. [He kisseth her hand.
PETER PLOD-ALL. Mistress Lelia, God be with you.
LELIA. Farewell, Peter. [Exit PETER. Thus lucre's set in golden chair of state, When learning's bid stand by, and keeps aloof: This greedy humour fits my father's vein, Who gapes for nothing but for golden gain.
Enter CHURMS.
NURSE. Mistress, take heed you speak nothing that will bear action, for here comes Master Churms the pettifogger.
CHURMS. Mistress Lelia, rest you merry: what's the reason you and your nurse walk here alone?
LELIA. Because, sir, we desire no other company but our own.
CHURMS. Would I were then your own, that I might keep you company.
NURSE. O sir, you and he that is her own are far asunder.
CHURMS. But if she please, we may be nearer.
LELIA. That cannot be; mine own is nearer than myself: And yet myself, alas! am not mine own. Thoughts, fears, despairs, ten thousand dreadful dreams, Those are mine own, and those do keep me company.
CHURMS. Before God, I must confess, your father is too cruel, To keep you thus sequester'd from the world, To spend your prime of youth thus in obscurity, And seek to wed you to an idiot fool, That knows not how to use himself: Could my deserts but answer my desires, I swear by Sol, fair Phoebus' silver eye, My heart would wish no higher to aspire, Than to be grac'd with Lelia's love. By Jesus, I cannot play the dissembler, And woo my love with courting ambages, Like one whose love hangs on his smooth tongue's end; But, in a word, I tell the sum of my desires, I love fair Lelia: By her my passions daily are increas'd; And I must die, unless by Lelia's love they be releas'd.
LELIA. Why, Master Churms, I had thought that you had been my father's great councillor in all these actions.
CHURMS. Nay, damn me, if I be: by heav'ns, sweet nymph, I am not!
NURSE. Master Churms, you are one can do much with her father: and if you love as you say, persuade him to use her more kindly, and give her liberty to take her choice; for these made marriages prove not well.
CHURMS. I protest I will.
LELIA. So Lelia shall accept thee as her friend:— Meanwhile, nurse, let's in: My long absence, I know, will make my father muse.
[Exeunt LELIA and NURSE.
CHURMS. So Lelia shall accept thee as her friend:—who can but ruminate upon these words? Would she had said, her love: but 'tis no matter; first creep, and then go; now her friend: the next degree is Lelia's love. Well, I'll persuade her father to let her have a little more liberty. But soft; I'll none of that neither: so the scholar may chance cosen me. Persuade him to keep her in still: and before she'll have Peter Plod-all, she'll have anybody; and so I shall be sure that Sophos shall never come at her. Why, I'll warrant ye, she'll be glad to run away with me at length. Hang him that has no shifts. I promised Sophos to further him in his suit; but if I do, I'll be pecked to death with hens. I swore to Gripe I would persuade Lelia to love Peter Plod-all; but, God forgive me, 'twas the furthest end of my thought. Tut! what's an oath? every man for himself: I'll shift for one, I warrant ye. [Exit.
Enter FORTUNATUS solus.
FORTUNATUS. Thus have I pass'd the beating billows of the sea, By Ithac's rocks and wat'ry Neptune's bounds: And wafted safe from Mars his bloody fields, Where trumpets sound tantara to the fight, And here arriv'd for to repose myself Upon the borders of my native soil. Now, Fortunatus, bend thy happy course Unto thy father's house, to greet thy dearest friends; And if that still thy aged sire survive, Thy presence will revive his drooping spirits, And cause his wither'd cheeks be sprent with youthful blood, Where death of late was portray'd to the quick. But, soft; who comes here? [Stand aside.
Enter ROBIN GOODFELLOW.
ROBIN GOODFELLOW. I wonder I hear not of Master Churms; I would fain know how he speeds, and what success he has in Lelia's love. Well, if he cosen the scholar of her, 'twould make my worship laugh; and if he have her, he may say,—Godamercy, Robin Goodfellow: O, ware a good head as long as you live. Why, Master Gripe, he casts beyond the moon, and Churms is the only man he puts in trust with his daughter; and, I'll warrant, the old churl would take it upon his salvation that he will persuade her to marry Peter Plod-all. But I will make a fool of Peter Plod-all; I'll look him in the face, and pick his purse, whilst Churms cosen him of his wench, and my old grandsire Holdfast of his daughter: and if he can do so, I'll teach him a trick to cosen him of his gold too. Now, for Sophos, let him wear the willow garland, and play the melancholy malcontent, and pluck his hat down in his sullen eyes, and think on Lelia in these desert groves: 'tis enough for him to have her in his thoughts, although he ne'er embrace her in his arms. But now there's a fine device comes into my head to scare the scholar: you shall see, I'll make fine sport with him. They say that every day he keeps his walk amongst these woods and melancholy shades, and on the bark of every senseless tree engraves the tenor of his hapless hope. Now when he's at Venus' altar at his orisons, I'll put me on my great carnation-nose, and wrap me in a rowsing calf-skin suit, and come like some hobgoblin, or some devil ascended from the grisly pit of hell, and like a scarbabe make him take his legs: I'll play the devil, I warrant ye.
[Exit ROBIN GOODFELLOW.
FORTUNATUS. And if you do, by this hand, I'll play the conjuror. Blush, Fortunatus, at the base conceit! To stand aloof, like one that's in a trance, And with thine eyes behold that miscreant imp, Whose tongue['s] more venom['s] than the serpent's sting, Before thy face thus taunt thy dearest friends— Ay, thine own father—with reproachful terms! Thy sister Lelia, she is bought and sold, And learned Sophos, thy thrice-vowed friend, Is made a stale by this base cursed crew And damned den of vagrant runagates: But here, in sight of sacred heav'ns, I swear By all the sorrows of the Stygian souls, By Mars his bloody blade, and fair Bellona's bowers, I vow, these eyes shall ne'er behold my father's face, These feet shall never pass these desert plains; But pilgrim-like, I'll wander in these woods, Until I find out Sopho's secret walks. And sound the depth of all their plotted drifts. Nor will I cease, until these hands revenge Th'injurious wrong, that's offer'd to my friend, Upon the workers of this stratagem. [Exit.
Enter PEG sola.
I' faith, i' faith, I cannot tell what to do; I love, and I love, and I cannot tell who: Out upon this love! for, wot you what? I have suitors come huddle, twos upon twos, And threes upon threes: and what think you Troubles me? I must chat and kiss with all comers, Or else no bargain.
Enter WILL CRICKET, and kisses her.
WILL CRICKET. A bargain, i' faith: ha, my sweet honey-sops! how dost thou?
PEG. Well, I thank you, William; now I see y'are a man of your word.
WILL CRICKET. A man o' my word, quotha? why, I ne'er broke promise in my life that I kept.
PEG. No, William, I know you did not; but I had forgotten me.
WILL CRICKET. Dost hear, Peg? if e'er I forget thee, I pray God, I may never remember thee.
PEG. Peace! here comes my granam Midnight.
Enter MOTHER MIDNIGHT.
MOTHER MIDNIGHT. What, Peg! what, ho! what, Peg, I say! what, Peg, my wench? where art thou, trow?
PEG. Here, granam, at your elbow.
MOTHER MIDNIGHT. What mak'st thou here this twatter light? I think thou'rt in a dream; I think the fool haunts thee.
WILL CRICKET. Zounds, fool in your face! Fool? O monstrous intitulation. Fool? O, disgrace to my person. Zounds, fool not me, for I cannot brook such a cold rasher, I can tell you. Give me but such another word, and I'll be thy tooth-drawer—even of thy butter-tooth, thou toothless trot, thou!
MOTHER MIDNIGHT. Nay, William, pray ye, be not angry; you must bear with old folks, they be old and testy, hot and hasty. Set not your wit against mine, William; for I thought you no harm, by my troth.
WILL CRICKET. Well, your good words have something laid my choler. But, granam, shall I be so bold to come to your house now and then to keep Peg company?
MOTHER MIDNIGHT. Ay, and beshrew thy good heart, and thou dost not. Come, and we'll have a piece of a barley bag-pudding or something, and thou shalt be very heartily welcome, that thou shalt, and Peg shall bid thee welcome too. Pray ye, maid, bid him welcome, and make much of him, for, by my vay, he's a good proper springal.[146]
PEG. Granam, if you did but see him dance, 'twould do your heart good. Lord! 'twould make anybody love him, to see how finely he'll foot it.
MOTHER MIDNIGHT. William, prythee, go home to my house with us, and take a cup of our beer, and learn to know the way again another time.
WILL CRICKET. Come on, granam. I'll man you home, i' faith. Come, Peg. [Exeunt.
Enter GRIPE, old PLOD-ALL and his son PETER, and CHURMS the lawyer.
PLOD-ALL. Come hither, Peter; hold up your head. Where's your cap and leg, sir boy, ha?
PETER PLOD-ALL. By your leave, Master Gripe.
GRIPE. Welcome, Peter; give me thy hand: thou'rt welcome. By'r Lady, this is a good, proper, tall fellow, neighbour; call you him a boy?
PLOD-ALL. A good, pretty, square springal,[147] sir.
GRIPE. Peter, you have seen my daughter, I am sure. How do you like her? What says she to you?
PETER PLOD-ALL. Faith, I like her well, and I have broken my mind to her, and she would say neither ay nor no. But, thank God, sir, we parted good friends, for she let me kiss her hand, and bad, Farewell, Peter, and therefore I think I am like enough to speed. How think you, Master Churms?
CHURMS. Marry, I think so too, for she did show no token of any dislike of your motion, did she?
PETER PLOD-ALL. No, not a whit, sir.
CHURMS. Why then, I warrant ye, for we hold in our law that, idem est non apparere et non esse.
GRIPE. Master Churms, I pray you, do so much as call my daughter hither. I will make her sure here to Peter Plod-all, and I'll desire you to be a witness.
CHURMS. With all my heart, sir. [Exit CHURMS.
GRIPE. Before God, neighbour, this same Master Churms is a very good lawyer, for, I warrant, you cannot speak anything, but he has law for it ad unguem.
PLOD-ALL. Marry, even the more joy on him, and he's one that I am very much beholding to: but here comes your daughter.
Enter CHURMS, LELIA, and NURSE.
LELIA. Father, did you send for me?
GRIPE. Ay, wench, I did. Come hither, Lelia; give me thy hand. Master Churms, I pray you, bear witness, I here give Lelia to Peter Plod-all. [She plucks away her hand.] How now?
NURSE. She'll none, she thanks you, sir.
GRIPE. Will she none? Why, how now, I say? What, you puling, peevish thing, you untoward baggage, will you not be ruled by your father? Have I taken care to bring you up to this, and will you do as you list? Away, I say; hang, starve, beg; begone, pack, I say; out of my sight! Thou never gettest pennyworth of my goods for this. Think on't, I do not use to jest. Begone, I say; I will not hear thee speak.
[Exeunt LELIA and NURSE.
CHURMS. I pray you, sir, patient yourself; she's young.
GRIPE. I hold my life, this beggarly scholar hankers about her still, makes her so untoward. But I'll home; I'll set her a harder task. I'll keep her in, and look to her a little better than I ha' done. I'll make her have little mind of gadding, I warrant her. Come, neighbour, send your son to my house, for he's welcome thither, and shall be welcome; and I'll make Lelia bid him welcome too, ere I ha' done with her. Come, Peter, follow us. [Exeunt all but CHURMS.
CHURNS. Why, this is excellent: better and better still. This is beyond expectation; why, now this gear begins to work. But, beshrew my heart, I was afraid that Lelia would have yielded. When I saw her father take her by the hand and call me for a witness, my heart began to quake; but, to say the truth, she had little reason to take a cullian lug-loaf, milksop slave, when she may have a lawyer, a gentleman that stands upon his reputation in the country, one whose diminutive defect of law may compare with his little learning. Well, I see that Churms must be the man must carry Lelia, when all's done.
Enter ROBIN GOODFELLOW.
ROBIN GOODFELLOW. How now, Master Churms? What news abroad? Methinks you look very spruce; y'are very frolic now a-late.
CHURMS. What, fellow Robin? How goes the squares with you? Y'are waxen very proud a-late; you will not know your own friends.
ROBIN GOODFELLOW. Faith, I even came to seek you, to bestow a quart of wine of you.
CHURMS. That's strange; you were never wont to be so liberal.
ROBIN GOODFELLOW. Tush, man; one good turn asks another; clear gains, man, clear gains! Peter Plod-all shall pay for all. I have gulled him once, and I'll come over him again and again, I warrant ye.
CHURMS. Faith, Lelia has e'en given him the doff[148] here, and has made her father almost stark-mad.
ROBIN GOODFELLOW. O, all the better; then I shall be sure of more of his custom. But what success have you in your suit with her?