Scene III A Room in the Castle Tavern
Enter Spencer, Captain Goodlack, and two Drawers.
1st Drawer.
You are welcome, gentlemen.—Show them into the next room there.
2nd Drawer.
Look out a towel, and some rolls, a salt and trenchers.
Spencer.
No, sir, we will not dine.
2nd Drawer.
I am sure ye would, if you had my stomach. What wine drink ye, sack or claret?
Spencer.
Where’s Bess?
2nd Drawer.
Marry, above, with three or four gentlemen.
Spencer.
Go call her.
2nd Drawer.
I’ll draw you a cup of the neatest wine in Plymouth.
Spencer.
I’ll taste none of your drawing. Go call Bess.
2nd Drawer.
There’s nothing in the mouths of these gallants but “Bess, Bess.”
Spencer.
What say y’, sir?
2nd Drawer.
Nothing, sir, but I’ll go and call her presently.
Spencer.
Tell her who’s here.
2nd Drawer.
The devil rid her out of the house, for me!
Spencer.
Say y’, sir?
2nd Drawer.
Nothing but anon, anon, sir.
Enter Bess Bridges.
Spencer.
See, she’s come!
Bess.
Sweet Master Spencer, y’are a stranger grown.
Where have you been these three days?
Spencer.
The last night
I sat up late at game. Here, take this bag,
And lay’t up till I call for’t.
Bess.
Sir, I shall.
Spencer.
Bring me some wine.
Bess.
I know your taste,
And I shall please your palate. [Exit.
Goodlack.
Troth, ’tis a pretty soul!
Spencer.
To thee I will unbosom all my thoughts:
Were her low birth but equal with her beauty,
Here would I fix my thoughts.
Goodlack.
You are not mad, sir?
You say you love her.
Spencer.
Never question that.
Goodlack.
Then put her to’t; win Opportunity,
She’s the best bawd. If, as you say, she loves you,
She can deny you nothing.
Spencer.
I have proved her
Unto the utmost test; examined her,
Even to a modest force; but all in vain:
She’ll laugh, confer, keep company, discourse,
And something more, kiss; but beyond that compass
She no way can be drawn.
Goodlack.
’Tis a virtue
But seldom found in taverns.
Re-enter Bess, with wine.
Bess.
’Tis of the best Graves wine,11 sir.
Spencer.
Gramercy, girl: come sit.
Bess.
Pray pardon, sir, I dare not.
Spencer.
I’ll ha’ it so.
Bess.
My fellows love me not, and will complain
Of such a saucy boldness.
Spencer.
Pox on your fellows!
I’ll try whether their pottle-pots or heads
Be harder, if I do but hear them grumble.
Sit: now, Bess, drink to me.
Bess.
To your good voyage! [Drinks.
Re-enter 2nd Drawer.
2nd Drawer.
Did you call, sir?
Spencer.
Yes, sir, to have your absence. Captain, this health.
Goodlack.
Let it come, sir.
2nd Drawer.
Must you be set, and we wait, with a——!
Spencer.
What say you, sir?
2nd Drawer.
Anon, anon: I come there. [Exit.
Spencer.
What will you venture, Bess, to sea with me?
Bess.
What I love best, my heart: for I could wish
I had been born to equal you in fortune,
Or you so low, to have been ranked with me;
I could have then presumed boldly to say,
I love none but my Spencer.
Spencer.
Bess, I thank thee.
Keep still that hundred pound till my return
From the Islands with my lord: if never, wench,
Take it; it is thine own.
Bess.
You bind me to you.
Re-enter 1st Drawer.
1st Drawer.
Bess, you must fill some wine into the Portcullis; the gentlemen there will drink none but of your drawing.
Spencer.
She shall not rise, sir. Go, let your master snick-up.12
1st Drawer.
And that should be cousin-german to the hick-up.
Re-enter 2nd Drawer.
2nd Drawer.
Bess, you must needs come. The gentlemen fling pots, pottles, drawers, and all down stairs. The whole house is in an uproar.
Bess.
Pray pardon, sir; I needs must be gone.
2nd Drawer.
The gentlemen swear if she come not up to them, they will come down to her.
Spencer.
If they come in peace,
Like civil gentlemen, they may be welcome:
If otherwise, let them usurp their pleasures.
We stand prepared for both.
Enter Carrol and the two Captains.
Carrol.
Save you, gallants! We are somewhat bold, to press
Into your company: it may be held scarce manners;
Therefore, ’tis fit that we should crave your pardon.
Spencer.
Sir, you are welcome; so are your friends.
1st Captain.
Some wine!
Bess.
Pray give me leave to fill it.
Spencer.
You shall not stir. So, please you, we’ll join company.—
Drawer, more stools.
Carrol.
I take’t that’s a she drawer. Are you of the house?
Bess.
I am, sir.
Carrol.
In what place?
Bess.
I draw.
Carrol.
Beer, do you not? You are some tapstress.
Spencer.
Sir, the worst character you can bestow
Upon the maid is to draw wine.
Carrol.
She would draw none to us.
Perhaps she keeps a rundlet for your taste,
Which none but you must pierce.
2nd Captain.
I pray be civil.
Spencer.
I know not, gentlemen, what your intents be,
Nor do I fear, or care. This is my room;
And if you bear you, as you seem in show,
Like gentlemen, sit and be sociable.
Carrol.
We will.—[to Bess.] Minx, by your leave. Remove, I say.
Spencer.
She shall not stir.
Carrol.
How, sir?
Spencer.
No, sir. Could you outface the devil,
We do not fear your roaring.13
Carrol.
Though you may be companion with a drudge,
It is not fit she should have place by us.—
About your business, housewife.
Spencer.
She is worthy
The place as the best here, and she shall keep’t.
Carrol.
You lie.
[They draw and justle: Carrol is slain.
Goodlack.
The gentleman’s slain: away!
Bess.
O, Heaven! what have you done?
Goodlack.
Undone thyself, and me too. Come away.
[Exeunt Goodlack and Spencer.
Bess.
Oh, sad misfortune! I shall lose him ever.
What! are you men, or milksops? Stand you still,
Senseless as stones, and see your friend in danger
To expire his last?
1st Captain.
Tush! all our help’s in vain.
2nd Captain.
This is the fruit of whores;
This mischief came through thee.
Bess.
It grew first from your incivility.
1st Captain.
Lend me a hand, to lift his body hence.
It was a fatal business.
[Exeunt the Captains, bearing the body.
Re-enter the two Drawers.
1st Drawer.
One call my master, another fetch the constable. Here’s a man killed in the room.
2nd Drawer.
How! a man killed, say’st thou? Is all paid?
1st Drawer.
How fell they out, canst thou tell?
2nd Drawer.
Sure, about this bold Bettrice.14 ’Tis not so much for the death of the man, but how shall we come by our reckoning?
[Exeunt Drawers.
Bess.
What shall become of me? Of all lost creatures,
The most infortunate! My innocence
Hath been the cause of blood, and I am now
Purpled with murder, though not within compass
Of the law’s severe censure: but, which most
Adds unto my affliction, I by this
Have lost so worthy and approved a friend,
Whom to redeem from exile, I would give
All that’s without and in me.
Enter Fawcett.
Fawcett.
Your name’s Bess Bridges?
Bess.
An unfortunate maid,
Known by that name too well in Plymouth, here.
Your business, sir, with me?
Fawcett.
Know you this ring?
Bess.
I do: it is my Spencer’s.
I know, withal, you are his trusty friend,
To whom he would commit it. Speak: how fares he?
Is he in freedom, know ye?
Fawcett.
He’s in health
Of body, though in mind somewhat perplexed
For this late mischief happened.
Bess.
Is he fled,
And freed from danger?
Fawcett.
Neither. By this token
He lovingly commends him to you, Bess,
And prays you, when ’tis dark, meet him o’ th’ Hoe,
Near to the new-made fort, where he’ll attend you,
Before he flies, to take a kind farewell.
There’s only Goodlack in his company:
He entreats you not to fail him.
Bess.
Tell him from me, I’ll come, I’ll run, I’ll fly,
Stand death before me; were I sure to die.
[Exeunt.