SCENE V.
Enter Le Beu.
Ros.
With his mouth full of news.
Cel.
Why he will put on us, as pigeons feed their young.
Ros.
Then shall we be news-cram'd.
Cel.
All the better, we shall be the more marketable. Bonjour,
Monsieur le Beu, what news?
Le Beu.
Fair Princess, you have lost much sport.
Cel.
Sport; of what colour?
Le Beu.
What colour, Madam? how shall I answer you?
Ros.
As wit and fortune will.
Clo.
Or as the destinies decree.
Cel.
Well said, that was laid on with a trowel.
Clo.
Nay, if I keep not my rank—
Ros.
Thou losest thy old smell.
Le Beu.
You amaze me, ladies; I would have told you of
good wrestling, which you have lost the sight of.
Ros.
Yet tell us the manner of the wrestling.
Le Beu.
I will tell you the beginning, and if it please your
ladyships, you may see the end, for the best is yet to do; and
here where you are, they are coming to perform it.
Cel.
Well, the beginning that is dead and buried.
Le Beu.
There comes an old man and his three sons.
Cel.
I could match this beginning with an old tale.
Le Beu.
Three proper young men, of excellent growth and
presence.
Ros.
With bills on their necks: Be it known unto all men
by these presents.
Le Beu.
The eldest of the three wrestled with Charles the
Duke's wrestler, which Charles in a moment threw him, and
broke three of his ribs, that there is little hope of life in him:
-- 192 --
so he serv'd the second, and so the third: yonder they lye, the
poor old man their father making such pitiful dole over them,
that all the beholders take his part with weeping.
Ros.
Alas!
Clo.
But what is the sport, Monsieur, that the ladies have
lost?
Le Beu.
Why this that I speak of.
Clo.
Thus men grow wiser every day. It is the first time
that ever I heard breaking of ribs was sport for ladies.
Cel.
Or I, I promise thee.
Ros.
But is there any else longs to see this broken musick in
his sides? is there yet another doats upon rib-breaking? shall
we see this wrestling, cousin?
Le Beu.
You must if you stay here, for here is the place
appointed for the wrestling; and they are ready to perform it.
Cel.
Yonder sure they are coming: let us now stay and see
it.
George Sewell [1723–5], The works of Shakespear in six [seven] volumes. Collated and Corrected by the former Editions, By Mr. Pope ([Vol. 7] Printed by J. Darby, for A. Bettesworth [and] F. Fayram [etc.], London) [word count] [S11101].