Scene II Outside Sir Davy Dunce’s House
Enter Sylvia and her Maid in the Balcony.
Maid. But why, madam, will you use him so inhumanly? I’m confident he loves you.
Sylv. Oh! a true lover is to be found out like a true saint, by the trial of his patience. Have you the cords ready?
Maid. Here they are, madam.
Sylv. Let them down, and be sure, when it comes to trial, to pull lustily. Is Will the footman ready?
Will. [Within] At your ladyship’s command, madam.
Sylv. I wonder he should stay so long; the clock has struck twelve.
Enter Courtine, singing.
And was she not frank and free,
And was she not kind to me,
To lock up her cat in her cupboard,
And give her key to me, to me?
To lock up her cat in her cupboard,
And give her key to me?
Sylv. This must be he: ay, ’tis he, and, as I am a virgin, roaring drunk; but, if I find not a way to make him sober—
Cour. Here, here’s the window: ay, that’s hell-door, and my damnation’s in the inside. Sylvia, Sylvia, Sylvia! dear imp of Satan, appear to thy servant.
Sylv. Who calls on Sylvia in this dead of night,
When rest is wanting to her longing eyes?
Cour. ’Tis a poor wretch can hardly stand upright,
Drunk with thy love, and if he falls he lies.
Sylv. Courtine, is’t you?
Cour. Yes, sweetheart, ’tis I; art thou ready for me?
Sylv. Fasten yourself to that cord there; there, there it is.
Cour. Cord! where? Oh, oh, here, here; so, now to Heaven in a string.
Sylv. Have you done?
Cour. Yes, I have done, child, and would fain be doing too, hussy.
Sylv. [To Will, within.] Then pull away, hoa up, hoa up, hoa up! So, avast there, sir!
[Courtine is drawn halfway up to the balcony.
Cour. Madam!
Sylv. Are you very much in love, sir?
Cour. Oh, damnably, child, damnably.
Sylv. I am sorry for’t with all my heart: good-night, captain.
Cour. Ha, gone! what, left in Erasmus’ paradise, between Heaven and hell? If the constable should take me now for a straggling monkey hung by the loins, and hunt me with his cry of watchmen? Ah, woman, woman, woman! Well, a merry life and a short, that’s all.
[Sings] God prosper long our noble king,
Our lives and safeties all!
I am mighty loyal to-night.
Enter Fourbin and Bloody-Bones, as from Sir Davy Dunce’s House.
Four. Murder, murder, murder! help, help, murder!
Cour. Nay, if there be murder stirring, ’tis high time to shift for myself. [Climbs up to the balcony.
Sylv. [Squeaking.] Ah! [Exeunt Sylvia and Court.
Bloody-B. Yonder, yonder he comes; murder, murder, murder!
[Exeunt Bloody-Bones and Fourbin.
Enter Sir Davy Dunce.
Sir Dav. ’Tis very late; but murder is a melancholy business, and night is fit for’t. I’ll go home. [Knocks.
Ver. [Within.] Who’s there?
Sir Dav. Who’s there! open the door, you whelp of Babylon.
Ver. Oh, sir! you’re welcome home; but here is the saddest news! here has been murder committed, sir.
Sir Dav. Hold your tongue, you fool, and go to sleep; get you in, do you hear? you talk of murder, you rogue? you meddle with state affairs? get you in. [Exit.