Cit . Will it so, sir? you are well read in histories! I pray you, what was Sir Dagonet? was not he prentice to a grocer in London? Read the play of “The Four
Prentices of London,” where they toss their pikes so.
I pray you, fetch him in, sir, fetch him in.

Boy . It shall be done.—It is not our fault, gentlemen.

[ Exit .

Wife . Now we shall see fine doings, I warrant ye, George.]

SCENE II.— A Hall in the King of Moldavia’s Court .

Enter POMPIONA, RALPH, TIM, and GEORGE.

[ Wife . Oh, here they come! how prettily the King of
Cracovia’s daughter is dressed!

Cit . Ay, Nell, it is the fashion of that country, I warrant ye.]

Pomp . Welcome, Sir Knight, unto my father’s court,
King of Moldavia; unto me Pompiona,
His daughter dear! But, sure, you do not like
Your entertainment, that will stay with us
No longer but a night.

Ralph . Damsel right fair,
I am on many sad adventures bound,
That call me forth into the wilderness;
Besides, my horse’s back is something galled,
Which will enforce me ride a sober pace.
But many thanks, fair lady, be to you
For using errant knight with courtesy!

Pomp . But say, brave knight, what is your name and birth?

Ralph . My name is Ralph; I am an Englishman (As true as steel, a hearty Englishman),
And prentice to a grocer in the Strand
By deed indent, of which I have one part:
But fortune calling me to follow arms,
On me this only order I did take
Of Burning Pestle, which in all men’s eyes
I bear, confounding ladies’ enemies.

Pomp . Oft have I heard of your brave countrymen,
And fertile soil and store of wholesome food;
My father oft will tell me of a drink
In England found, and nipitato called,
Which driveth all the sorrow from your hearts.

Ralph . Lady, ’tis true; you need not lay your lips
To better nipitato than there is.

Pomp . And of a wild fowl he will often speak,
Which powdered-beef-and-mustard called is:
For there have been great wars ’twixt us and you;
But truly, Ralph, it was not ’long of me.
Tell me then, Ralph, could you contented be
To wear a lady’s favour in your shield?

Ralph . I am a knight of a religious order,
And will not wear a favour of a lady
That trusts in Antichrist and false traditions.

[ Cit . Well said, Ralph! convert her, if thou canst.]

Ralph . Besides, I have a lady of my own
In merry England, for whose virtuous sake
I took these arms; and Susan is her name,
A cobbler’s maid in Milk Street; whom I vow
Ne’er to forsake whilst life and Pestle last.

Pomp . Happy that cobbling dame, whoe’er she be,
That for her own, dear Ralph, hath gotten thee!
Unhappy I, that ne’er shall see the day
To see thee more, that bear’st my heart away!

Ralph . Lady, farewell; I needs must take my leave.

Pomp . Hard-hearted Ralph, that ladies dost deceive!