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Read Ebook: Shakespeare and His Love: A Play in Four Acts and an Epilogue by Harris Frank
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Ebook has 704 lines and 12007 words, and 15 pages
Win me?
HERBERT:
And now I have succeeded.
THE QUEEN:
What do you mean?
HERBERT:
Jealousy is the best proof of love.
THE QUEEN:
You saucy boy!
HERBERT:
Did I keep my word?
MISS FITTON:
How bold you are!
HERBERT:
And you--beautiful. Remember! you promised.
MISS FITTON:
I did promise.
HERBERT:
Come, then.
MISS FITTON:
Oh no; not to-night. To-night I must--I could not. I could not. It is so late. I said "sometime."
HERBERT:
You are too proud to cheat. I have your word. Come: it'll soon be midnight.
MISS FITTON:
Midnight!
HERBERT:
Yes, midnight. What of that?
MISS FITTON:
HERBERT:
Come, then. You are not afraid of the dark with me.
HOST:
I can trust no more. I'm a poor man, Master Chettle.
CHETTLE:
Poor in flesh and poorer in spirit. Go to, man, I don't ask you for trust. From now on the drink of the day shall be paid in the day. What can you want more?
HOST:
CHETTLE:
Oh! Your "if" 's a scurvy coward, a water-drinker dripping with doubts; no host for a generous tavern. Hark ye, ye don't send in the reckoning before the meal; but an hour after. Make the hour three and ye shall have your money. Send me the drawer, man, and before night ye shall be paid. Was ever such an unbelieving sinner!
HOST:
Sinner, I may be, Master Chettle; but unbelieving, no. I have trusted you these ten years, Master Chettle, and the reckoning grows; every year it grows. That's not want of faith, Master Chettle.
CHETTLE:
Ha, ha! Ye have me there: quick wits, Master Fry, and the riposto tickles. There, I'm glad it's settled. Send me the drawer and you shall have your money to-night. I never could haggle with a man of mind. And I bring you custom, man, more custom than any dozen, and such custom, the wits of London, the heads o' the world!
HOST:
CHETTLE:
There, there; it's settled: honest men have but one word. I know you good, Master Fry; but hard like this new religion; hard. There, there! we are old friends. Send the drawer; he knows my ways and quickly; this tongue-fence hath made me dry. Here come my friends, a goodly company and all thirsty; despatch, man, despatch!
JONSON:
I thought we'd find you here, Chettle; but what are you doing?
CHETTLE:
Writing, lad, for a meal, as a poet must in these niggard-tradesman times.
BURBAGE:
Have you seen Shakespeare?
CHETTLE:
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