Hum. I shall: then, first and foremost, for relief.
I call to you, if that you can afford it;
I care not at what price, for, on my word, it
Shall be repaid again, although it cost me
More than I’ll speak of now; for love hath tost me
In furious blanket like a tennis-ball,
And now I rise aloft, and now I fall.

Luce. Alas, good gentleman, alas the day!

Hum. I thank you heartily; and, as I say,
Thus do I still continue without rest,
I’ the morning like a man, at night a beast,
Roaring and bellowing mine own disquiet,
That much I fear, forsaking of my diet
Will bring me presently to that quandary,
I shall bid all adieu.

Luce. Now, by St. Mary,
That were great pity!

Hum. So it were, beshrew me;
Then, ease me, lusty Luce, and pity show me.

Luce. Why, sir, you know my will is nothing worth
Without my father’s grant; get his consent,
And then you may with assurance try me.

Hum. The worshipful your sire will not deny me;
For I have asked him, and he hath replied,
“Sweet Master Humphrey, Luce shall be thy bride.”

Luce. Sweet Master Humphrey, then I am content.

Hum. And so am I, in truth.

Luce. Yet take me with you;
There is another clause must be annexed,
And this it is: I swore, and will perform it,
No man shall ever joy me as his wife
But he that stole me hence. If you dare venture,
I am yours (you need not fear; my father loves you);
If not, farewell for ever!

Hum. Stay, nymph, stay:
I have a double gelding, coloured bay,
Sprung by his father from Barbarian kind;
Another for myself, though somewhat blind,
Yet true as trusty tree.

Luce. I am satisfied;
And so I give my hand. Our course must lie
Through Waltham forest, where I have a friend
Will entertain us. So, farewell, Sir Humphrey,
And think upon your business.

[Exit.

Hum. Though I die,
I am resolved to venture life and limb
For one so young, so fair, so kind, so trim. [Exit.

[Wife. By my faith and troth, George, and as I am virtuous, it is e’en the kindest young man that ever trod on shoeleather.—Well, go thy ways; if thou hast her not, ’tis not thy fault, i’faith.

Cit. I prithee, mouse, be patient; ’a shall have her, or I’ll make some of ’em smoke for’t.

Wife. That’s my good lamb, George.—Fie, this stinking tobacco kills me! would there were none in England!—Now, I pray, gentlemen, what good does this stinking tobacco do you? nothing, I warrant you: make chimneys o’ your faces!]

SCENE III.—A Grocer’s Shop.

Enter Ralph, as a Grocer, reading Palmerin of England,
with Tim and George.

[Wife. Oh, husband, husband, now, now! there’s Ralph, there’s Ralph.

Cit. Peace, fool! let Ralph alone.—Hark you, Ralph; do not strain yourself too much at the first.—Peace!—Begin, Ralph.]