Bar.

There, Sir John, is the letter.

Fal.

Come on: let us see if we are master of so much Arabick as to find out her meaning. (Reads) Hum— hum—hum—! Why, dame Ursula, thou hast a memory. I could have credited thee for subtlety, on account of that old friend to woman, the serpent: but how thou couldst remember for fifteen years together what money I owed thee—that indeed I cannot account for. I have myself forgot it long since. She tells me here, I have borrow'd five hundred pounds of her at times, as tokens of my love. By the Lord, and as I am a soldier, I will love her still, and she shall command semblable proofs of it. (Reads on) Hum—hum—Repayment of the money or the performance of my engagements! Hoo! Am I then to be married on compulsion? That will go most damnably against the grain. But hold—if I marry, her money will be mine: if not, she may cease to lend when she pleases: and the fortune of that man is always at the turning of the tide that depends on the caprice of a woman.

Bar.

Why marry her, then, Sir John. I dare say she has heard nothing of your disgrace at court; so that she won't stand upon terms.

Fal.

Marry, Bardolph, and I am half resolv'd to do so. Yea, by the Lord, and I will too. She has besides two thousand pounds in money, I will courageously make the attack and mount the breach of matrimony. If I fall into the hands of Philistines; why, good night. It is but going into purgatory a few years before my time. Bardolph, get me pen and ink, in the cupid. Thou shalt be one of love's messengers.—I will write to her in trope and figure: metaphor and hyperbole carry all before them with the women. Let her resist lyes and nonsense if she can.

Previous section

Next section