roaring girl - all

moll: sir beauteous ganymede here and sir thomas long heard that cuckoo, my man trapdoor, sing the note of your ransom from captivity

‘tis so. / moll, where’s that trapdoor?

jack: by the tassels of this handkercher, ‘tis true. and what was his warlike stratagem, think you? he thought because a wicker cage tames a nightingale, a lousy prison could make an ass of me

a nasty plot

moll: come, come, dapper, let’s give ‘em something. ‘las, poor men, what money have you? by my troth, i love a soldier with my south

stay, stay, where have you serv’d?

trapdoor: not in the low countries, if it please your manhood, but in hungary against the turkish at the siege of belgrade

who serv’d there with you, sirrah?

moll: mere rogues, put spurs to ‘em once more

here, here, let’s be rid of their jabbering

tearcat: no, but a ben cove, a brave cove, a gentry cuffin

call you this canting?

sir thomas: agreed, and let them march

here, moll

trapdoor: without any more maundering i’ll do’t. follow, brave tearcat [exit trapdoor and tear cat, enter two cutpurses]

what fellows come yonder?

sir thomas: come, my friend, shall’s to the saloon?

ay, ‘tis noon sure

sir davy: oh, passing well!

what a sweet breath the air casts here, so cool!

sir davy: good tales do well / in these bad days, where vice does so excel

begin, sir alexander

sir alexander: yes, and talk’d oddly

pray sir, proceed: how did this old man end?

sir alexander: the crutch unto my age, becomes a whirlwind / shaking the firm foundation

‘tis some prodigal

sir alexander: i am that wrethced father, this that son / that sees his ruin yet headlong on doth run!

will you love such a poison?

sir alexander: hark, gentlemen, he swears / to have this cutpurse to spite my gall

master sebastian!

trapdoor: i’ll do’t presently, through a davern gate. drawer! pish! (trapdoor exits)

has the knave vex’d you, sir?

sir alexander: will ne’er leave heaping sorrows on my heart / till he has broke it quite

is he still wild?

sir alexander: as is a russian bear

but has he left / his old haunt with that baggage?

sir davy: my son jack dapper then shall run with him / all in one pasture

proves your son bad too, sir?

sir davy: the follies of my son, and make him wise / or a stark fool; pray lend me your advice

that shall you, good sir davy

sir davy: i’ th’ counter to arrest djack dapper. think you the counter cannot break him?

break him? yes, and break’s heart too if he lie there long

sir alexander: by subtle logic and quaint sophistry / to make the keepers trust him

say they do?

sir davy: i’faith; thanks, thanks. i ha’ sent / for a couple of bears shall paw him (enter sheriff curtilax and deputy hanger)

who comes yonder?

sir davy: my good knights, leave me; you see i’m haunted now with spirits

fare you well, sir

jack: puh, i like it not

what feather is’t you’ld have sir? these are most worn and most in fashion

tiltyard: what feather is’t you’ld have sir? these are most worn and most in fashion

amongst the beaver gallants, the stone riders, / the private stage’s audience, the twelvepenny-stool gentleman

tiltyard: amongst the beaver gallants, the stone riders, / the private stage’s audience,the twelvepenny-stool gentleman:

i can inform you ‘tis the general feather

jack: puh, i like it not (FULL)

what feather is’t you’ld have sir? these are most worn and most in fashion / amongst the beaver gallants, the stone riders, / the private stage’s audience, the twelvepenny-stool gentleman: i can inform you ‘tis the general feather

jack: beat all your feathers as flat down as pancakes. show me a spangled feather

oh, to go / a-feasting with? you’d have it for a hench-boy; you shall

goshawk: did i not tell you these turtles were together?

how dost thou, sirrah? why, sister gallipot!

gallipot: yes, indeed, sir, very ill, very ill, never worse!

how her head burns! feel how her pulses work

goshawk: come, come, fools, you trouble her

in troth, sister, i hope you will do well for all this

sir alexander: […] i never took more joy in sight of a man than in your comfortable presence now

nor i more delight in doing grade to virtue than in this worthy gentlewoman, your son’s bride

nor i more delight in doing grace to virtue than in this worthy gentlewoman, your son’s bride

noble fitzallard’s daughter, to whose honour and modest fame i am a servant vow’d

noble fitzallard’s daughter, to whose honour and modest fame i am a servant vow’d

so is this knight

i never took more joy in sight of man than in your comfortable presence now

nor i more delight in doing grade to virtue than in this worthy gentlewoman, your son’s bride, Noble Fitzallard’s daughter, to whose honour and modest fame I am a servant vow’d; so is this knight.