SCENE I.
The street before the Widow's house.
Enter Simon and Frailty.
Frail.
Sirrah, Simon St. Mary-Overies, my mistress
sends away all her suitors, and puts fleas in their
ears.
Sim.
Frailty, she does like an honest, chaste, and
virtuous woman; for widows ought not to wallow in
the puddle of iniquity.
Frail.
Yet, Simon, many widows will do't, whatso
comes on't.
Sim.
True, Frailty; their filthy flesh desires a
conjunction copulative. What strangers are within,
Frailty?
Frail.
There's none, Simon, but master Pilfer the
Taylor: he's above with sir Godfrey, 'praising of a
doublet8 note: and I must trudge anon to fetch master
Suds the barber.
Sim.
Master Suds:—a good man; he washes the
sins of the beard clean.
-- 573 --
Enter Skirmish.
Skir.
How now, creatures? what's o'clock?
Frail.
Why, do you take us to be Jacks o'the clock
house9 note
?
Skir.
I say again to you, what is't o'clock?
Sim.
Truly la, we go by the clock of our conscience.
All worldly clocks we know go false, and
are set by drunken sextons.
Skir.
Then what is't o'clock in your conscience?
—O, I must break off; here comes the corporal.
Enter Oath.
Hum, hum: what is't o'clock?
Oath.
O'clock? why past seventeen.
Frail.
Past seventeen! Nay, he has met with his
match now; corporal Oath will fit him.
Skir.
Thou dost not balk or baffle me, dost thou?
I am a soldier. Past seventeen!
Oath.
Ay, thou art not angry with the figures,
art thou? I will prove it unto thee: twelve and one
is thirteen, I hope; two fourteen, three fifteen, four
sixteen, and five seventeen; then past seventeen: I
will take the dial's part in a just cause.
Skir.
I say 'tis but past five then.
Oath.
I'll swear 'tis past seventeen then. Dost thou
not know numbers? Can'st thou not cast?
Skir.
Cast? dost thou speak of my casting i'the
street1 note?
[They draw and fight.
-- 574 --
Oath.
Ay, and in the market-place.
Sim.
Clubs, clubs, clubs2 note
.
[Simon runs away.
Frail.
Ay, I knew by their shuffling, clubs would
be trump. Mass here's the knave, an he can do any
good upon them: Clubs, clubs, clubs.
[Exit.
Enter Pyeboard.
Oath.
O villain, thou hast open'd a vein in my
leg.
Pye.
How now? for shame, for shame, put up,
put up.
Oath.
By yon blue welkin3 note, 'twas out of my part,
George, to be hurt on the leg.
Enter Officers.
Pye.
O, peace now: I have a cordial here to
comfort thee.
Offi.
Down with 'em, down with 'em; lay hands
upon the villain.
Skir.
Lay hands on me?
Pye.
I'll not be seen among them now.
[Exit Pyeboard.
Oath.
I'm hurt, and had more need have surgeons
lay hands upon me, than rough officers.
Offi.
Go, carry him to be dress'd then: this mutinous
soldier shall along with me to prison.
[Exeunt some of the Sheriffs Officers with Corporal Oath.
Skir.
To prison? Where's George?
Offi.
Away with him.
[Exeunt Officers with Skirmish.
-- 575 --
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].
