Jasp . They are gone, and I am hurt; my love is lost,
Never to get again. Oh, me unhappy!
Bleed, bleed and die! I cannot. Oh, my folly,
Thou hast betrayed me! Hope, where art thou fled?
Tell me, if thou be’st anywhere remaining,
Shall I but see my love again? Oh, no!
She will not deign to look upon her butcher,
Nor is it fit she should; yet I must venture.
Oh, Chance, or Fortune, or whate’er thou art,
That men adore for powerful, hear my cry,
And let me loving live, or losing die!

[Exit .

[Wife . Is ’a gone, George?

Cit . Ay, cony.

Wife . Marry, and let him go, sweetheart. By the faith o’ my body,’ a has put me into such a fright, that I tremble (as they say) as ’twere an aspen-leaf. Look o’ my little finger, George, how it shakes. Now, in truth, every member of my body is the worse for’t.

Cit . Come, hug in mine arms, sweet mouse; he shall not fright thee any more. Alas, mine own dear heart, how it quivers!]

SCENE II. — A Room in the Bell Inn, Waltham .

Enter Mistress MERRYTHOUGHT, RALPH, MICHAEL, TIM, GEORGE, Host, and Tapster.

[Wife . Oh, Ralph! how dost thou, Ralph? How hast thou slept to-night? has the knight used thee well?

Cit . Peace, Nell; let Ralph alone.]

Tap . Master, the reckoning is not paid.

Ralph . Right courteous knight, who, for the order’s sake
Which thou hast ta’en, hang’st out the holy Bell,
As I this flaming Pestle bear about,
We render thanks to your puissant self,
Your beauteous lady, and your gentle squires,
For thus refreshing of our wearied limbs,
Stiffened with hard achievements in wild desert.

Tap . Sir, there is twelve shillings to pay.

Ralph . Thou merry Squire Tapstero, thanks to thee
For comforting our souls with double jug:
And, if adventurous fortune prick thee forth,
Thou jovial squire, to follow feats of arms,
Take heed thou tender every lady’s cause,
Every true knight, and every damsel fair;
But spill the blood of treacherous Saracens,
And false enchanters that with magic spells
Have done to death full many a noble knight.

Host . Thou valiant Knight of the Burning Pestle, give ear to me; there is twelve shillings to pay, and, as I am a true knight, I will not bate a penny.

[Wife . George, I prithee, tell me, must Ralph pay twelve shillings now?

Cit . No, Nell, no; nothing but the old knight is merry with Ralph.

Wife . Oh, is’t nothing else? Ralph will be as merry as he.]

Ralph . Sir Knight, this mirth of yours becomes you well;
But, to requite this liberal courtesy,
If any of your squires will follow arms,
He shall receive from my heroic hand
A knighthood, by the virtue of this Pestle.

Host . Fair knight, I thank you for your noble offer:
Therefore, gentle knight,
Twelve shillings you must pay, or I must cap you.