Enter Margaret [and Joan], with Thomas, 355[Richard], and other clowns [following], [and] Lacy disguised in country 356apparel. By my troth, Margaret, here's a weather is able to
358make a man call his father whoreson. If this weather hold, we shall
359have hay good cheap and butter and cheese at Harleston will
360bear no price.
Thomas, maids when they come to see the fair
3.3362Count not to make a cope for dearth of hay.
3.4363When we have turned our butter to the salt
3.5364And set our cheese safely upon the racks,
3.6365Then let our fathers price it as they please.
3.7366We country sluts of merry Fressingfield
3.8367Come to buy needless naughts to make us fine,
3.9368And look that young men should be frank this day
3.10369And court us with such fairings as they can.
3.11370Phoebus is blithe and frolic looks from heaven
3.12371As when he courted lovely Semele,
3.13372Swearing the peddlers shall have empty packs
3.14373If that fair weather may make chapmen buy.
But, lovely Peggy, Semele is dead,
3.16375And therefore Phoebus from his palace pries,
3.17376And, seeing such a sweet and seemly saint,
3.18377Shows all his glories for to court yourself.
This is a fairing, gentle sir, indeed,
3.20379To soothe me up with such smooth flattery.
3.21380But learn of me, your scoffs too broad before.--
3.22381Well, Joan, our beauties must abide their jests;
3.23382We serve the turn in jolly Fressingfield .
Margaret, a farmer's daughter for a farmer's son;
3.25384I warrant you, the meanest of us both
3.26385Shall have a mate to lead us from the church.--
3.27386But, Thomas, what's the news? What, in a dump?
3.28387Give me your hand, we are near a peddler's shop.
3.29388Out with your purse, we must have fairings now.
Faith, Joan, and shall. I'll bestow a fairing on you, and
390then we will to the tavern and snap off a pint of wine or two.
3.30.1391All this while Lacy whispers Margaret in the ear. Whence are you sir? Of Suffolk? For your terms
3.32393are finer than the common sort of men.
Faith, lovely girl, I am of Beccles by,
3.34395Your neighbor, not above six miles from hence,
3.35396A farmer's son that never was so quaint
3.36397But that he could do courtesy to such dames.
3.37398But trust me, Margaret, I am sent in charge
3.38399From him that reveled in your father's house
3.39400And filled his lodge with cheer and venison,
3.40401Tiréd in green. He sent you this rich purse,
3.41402His token that he helped you run your cheese
3.42403And in the milk-house chatted with yourself.
To me? You forget yourself.
Women are often weak in memory.
Oh, pardon, sir, I call to mind the man.
3.46407'Twere little manners to refuse his gift,
3.47408And yet I hope he sends it not for love,
3.48409For we have little leisure to debate of that.
What, Margaret, blush not. Maids must have their
411loves.
Nay, by the mass, she looks pale as if she were
413angry.
Sirrah, are you of Beccles? I pray, how doth
415Goodman Cob? My father bought a horse of him.-- I'll tell you, Margaret,
416'a were good to be a gentleman's jade, for of all things the foul
417hilding could not abide a dung-cart.
How different is this farmer from the rest,
3.53419That erst as yet hath pleased my wandering sight!
3.54420His words are witty, quickened with a smile,
3.55421His courtesy gentle, smelling of the court;
3.56422Facile and debonair in all his deeds,
3.57423Proportioned as was Paris when in gray
3.58424He courted Oenone in the vale by Troy.
3.59425Great lords have come and pleaded for my love,
3.60426Who but the Keeper's lass of Fressingfield?
3.61427And yet methinks this farmer's jolly son
3.62428Passeth the proudest that hath pleased mine eye.
3.63429But, Peg, disclose not that thou art in love,
3.64430And show as yet no sign of love to him.
3.65431Although thou well wouldst wish him for thy love,
3.66432Keep that to thee till time doth serve thy turn
3.67433To show the grief wherein thy heart doth burn.--
3.68434Come, Joan and Thomas, shall we to the fair?--
3.69435You, Beccles man, will not forsake us now?
Not whilst I may have such quaint girls as you.
Well, if you chance to come by Fressingfield,
3.72438Make but a step into the Keeper's lodge,
3.73439And such poor fare as woodmen can afford,
3.74440Butter and cheese, cream, and fat venison
3.75441You shall have store, and welcome therewithal.
Gramercies, Peggy. Look for me ere long.