SCENE II.
Enter Strumbo above, in a gown, with ink and paper in his hand.
Strum.
Either the four elements, the seven planets,
and all the particular stars of the pole antastick,
are adversative against me, or else I was begotten
-- 201 --
and born in the wane of the moon, when
every thing, as Lactantius in his fourth book of
Constultations2 note doth say, goeth arseward. Ay, masters,
ay, you may laugh, but I must weep; you may joy,
but I must sorrow; shedding salt tears from the
watry fountains of my most dainty-fair eyes along
my comely and smooth cheeks, in as great plenty
as the water runneth from the bucking-tubs, or red
wine out of the hogs-heads. For trust me, gentlemen
and my very good friends, and so forth, the
little god, nay the desperate god, Cuprit, with one
of his vengible bird-bolts3 note, hath shot me into the
heel: so not only, but also, (oh fine phrase!) I burn,
I burn, and I burn-a; in love, in love, and in love-a* note.
Ah! Strumbo, what hast thou seen? not Dina with
the ass Tom4 note
? Yea, with these eyes thou hast seen
her; and therefore pull them out, for they will work
thy bale5 note. Ah! Strumbo, what hast thou heard† note? not
the voice of the nightingale, but a voice sweeter than
hers; yea, with these ears hast thou heard it, and
therefore cut them off, for they have caus'd thy sorrow.
-- 202 --
Nay Strumbo, kill thyself, drown thyself,
hang thyself, starve thyself. Oh, but then I shall
leave my sweetheart. Oh my heart! Now, pate, for
thy master6 note! I will 'dite an aliquant love-pistle to her,
and then she hearing the grand verbosity of my scripture,
will love me presently.
[Writes.
My pen is naught; gentlemen, lend me a knife7 note
; I
think the more haste the worst speed.
[Writes again, and then reads.
So it is, mistress Dorothy, and the sole essence of my
soul, that the little sparkles of affection kindled in me towards
your sweet self, hath now increas'd to a great flame,
and will, ere it be long, consume my poor heart, except you
with the pleasant water of your secret fountain quench the
furious heat of the same. Alas, I am a gentleman of good
fame and name, in person majestical, in 'parel comely, in
gait portly8 note. Let not therefore your gentle heart be so
hard as to despise a proper tall young man of a handsome
life; and by despising him, not only but also, to kill
him. Thus expecting time and tide, I bid you farewell.
Your servant,
Signior Strumbo.
-- 203 --
O wit! O pate! O memory! O hand! O ink!
O paper! Well, now I will send it away. Trompart,
Trompart. What a villain is this? Why sirrah,
come when your master calls you. Trompart.
Enter Trompart.
Trom.
Anon, sir.
Strum.
Thou knowest, my pretty boy, what a
good master I have been to thee ever since I took
thee into my service9 note.
Trom.
Ay, sir.
Strum.
And how I have cherished thee always, as
if thou hadst been the fruit of my loins, flesh of my
flesh, and bone of my bone.
Trom.
Ay, sir.
Strum.
Then shew thyself herein a trusty servant;
and carry this letter to mistress Dorothy, and tell
her—
[Whispers him. Exit Trompart.
Strum.
Nay, masters, you shall see a marriage by
and by. But here she comes. Now must I frame
my amorous passions.
Enter Dorothy and Trompart.
Dor.
Signior Strumbo, well met. I receiv'd your
letters by your man here, who told me a pitiful story
of your anguish; and so understanding your passions
were so great, I came hither speedily.
Strum.
Oh, my sweet and pigsney, the fecundity
of my ingeny is not so great that may declare unto
you the sorrowful sobs and broken sleeps that I suffer'd
for you sake; and therefore I desire you to
receive me into your familiarity:
-- 204 --
For your love doth lie
As near and as nigh
Unto my heart within,
As mine eye to my nose,
My leg unto my hose,
And my flesh unto my skin.
Dor.
Truly, Master Strumbo, you speak too learnedly
for me to understand the drift of your mind; and
therefore tell your tale in plain terms, and leave off
your dark riddles.
Strum.
Alas, mistress Dorothy, this is my luck,
that when I most would, I cannot be understood;
so that my great learning is an inconvenience unto
me. But to speak in plain terms, I love you, mistress
Dorothy, if you like to accept me into your familiarity.
Dor.
If this be all, I am content.
Strum.
Say'st thou so, sweet wench, let me lick
thy toes. Farewel, mistress. If any of you be in
love, [Turning to the audience] provide ye a cap-case
full of new-coin'd words, and then shall you soon
have the succado de labres1 note, and something else.
[Exeunt.
Edmond Malone [1780], Supplement to the edition of Shakspeare's plays published in 1778 By Samuel Johnson and George Steevens. In two volumes. Containing additional observations by several of the former commentators: to which are subjoined the genuine poems of the same author, and seven plays that have been ascribed to him; with notes By the editor and others (Printed for C. Bathurst [and] W. Strahan [etc.], London) [word count] [S10911].
