Welcome to PhiloLogic  
   home |  the ARTFL project |  download |  documentation |  sample databases |   
Alexander Pope [1747], The works of Shakespear in eight volumes. The Genuine Text (collated with all the former Editions, and then corrected and emended) is here settled: Being restored from the Blunders of the first Editors, and the Interpolations of the two Last: with A Comment and Notes, Critical and Explanatory. By Mr. Pope and Mr. Warburton (Printed for J. and P. Knapton, [and] S. Birt [etc.], London) [word count] [S11301].
To look up a word in a dictionary, select the word with your mouse and press 'd' on your keyboard.

Previous section

SCENE VI. Manent Musicians, and Nurse.

Mus.
Faith, we may put up our pipes and be gone.

Nurse.
Honest good fellows: ah, put up, put up;
For, well you know, this is a pitiful case. [Exit Nurse.

Mus.
Ay, by my troth, the case may be amended.
Enter Peter.

Pet.
Musicians, oh musicians, heart's ease, heart's ease:
Oh, an you will have me live, play heart's ease.

-- 96 --

Mus.

Why, heart's ease?

Pet.

O musicians, because my heart itself plays, my heart itself is full of woe. O, play me some merry dump, to comfort me!

Mus.

Not a dump we, 'tis no time to play now.

Pet.

You will not then?

Mus.

No.

Pet.

I will then give it you soundly.

Mus.

What will you give us?

Pet.

No mony, on my faith, but the gleek: I will give you the Minstrell.

Mus.

Then will I give you the Serving Creature.

Pet.

Then will I lay the Serving Creature's Dagger on your Pate. I will carry no Crotchets. I'll re you, I'll fa you, do you note me?

Mus.

An you re us, and fa us, you note us.

2 Mus.

Pray you, put up your dagger, and put out your wit.

Pet.

Then have at you with my wit: I will dry-beat you with an iron Wit, and put up my iron dagger:— answer me like men:



When griping grief the heart doth wound,
Then musick with her silver sound—
Why, silver sound? why, musick with her silver sound?
What say you, Simon Catling?

Mus.

Marry, Sir, because silver hath a sweet sound.

Pet.

Pretty! what say you, Hugh Rebeck?

2 Mus.

I say, silver sound, because musicians sound for silver.

Pet.

Pretty too! what say you, Samuel Soundboard?

3 Mus.

Faith, I know not what to say.

Pet.

O, I cry you mercy, you are the singer, I will say for you. It is musick with her silver sound, because such fellows, as you, have no gold for sounding.



The Musick with her silver sound
Doth lend redress. [Exit singing.

-- 97 --

Mus.

What a pestilent knave is this same?

2 Mus.

Hang him, Jack; come, we'll in here, tarry for the mourners, and stay dinner.

[Exeunt.
Previous section


Alexander Pope [1747], The works of Shakespear in eight volumes. The Genuine Text (collated with all the former Editions, and then corrected and emended) is here settled: Being restored from the Blunders of the first Editors, and the Interpolations of the two Last: with A Comment and Notes, Critical and Explanatory. By Mr. Pope and Mr. Warburton (Printed for J. and P. Knapton, [and] S. Birt [etc.], London) [word count] [S11301].
Powered by PhiloLogic