FIRK

’Snails, Ralph, thou hast lost thy part of three pots a countryman

of mine gave me to breakfast.

RALPH

I care not. I have found a better thing.

FIRK

A thing? Away! Is it a man’s thing, or a woman’s thing?

40

RALPH

Firk, dost thou know this shoe?

FIRK

No, by my troth. Neither doth that know me: I have no

acquaintance with it, ‘tis a mere stranger to me.

RALPH

Why, then, I do: this shoe, I durst be sworn,

Once covered the instep of my Jane.

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This is her size, her breadth. Thus trod my love.

These true-love knots I pricked. I hold my life,

By this old shoe I shall find out my wife.

FIRK

Ha, ha! Old shoe, that wert new - how a murrain came this

ague-fit of foolishness upon thee?

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RALPH

Thus, Firk: even now here came a servingman;

By this shoe would he have a new pair made,

Against tomorrow morning, for his mistress

That’s to be married to a gentleman.

And why may not this be my sweet Jane?

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FIRK

And why mayst not thou be my sweet ass? Ha, ha!

RALPH

Well, laugh and spare not. But the truth is this.

Against tomorrow morning I’ll provide

A lusty crew of honest shoemakers

To watch the going of the bride to church.

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If she prove Jane, I’ll take her in despite

From Hammon and the devil, were he by.

If it be not my Jane, what remedy?

Hereof am I sure, I shall live till I die,

Although I never with a woman lie. Exit

65

FIRK

Thou lie with a woman, to build nothing but Cripplegates!

Well, God sends fools fortune, and it may be he may light upon

his matrimony by such a device; for wedding and hanging goes

by destiny. Exit

LACY

How happy am I by embracing thee!

O, I did fear such cross mishaps did reign

That I should never see my Rose again.

ROSE

Sweet Lacy, since fair opportunity

Offers herself to further our escape,

5

Let not too over-fond esteem of me

Hinder that happy hour. Invent the means,

And Rose will follow thee through all the world.

LACY

O, how I surfeit with excess of joy,

Made happy by thy rich perfection!

10

But since thou payest sweet interest to my hopes,

Redoubling love on love, let me once more,

Like to a bold-faced debtor, crave of thee

This night to steal abroad, and at Eyre’s house,

Who now by death of certain aldermen

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Is Mayor of London, and my master once,

Meet thou thy Lacy, where, in spite of chance,

Your father’s anger, and mine uncle’s hate,

Our happy nuptials will we consummate.

SYBIL

O God, what will you do, mistress? Shift for yourself, your

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father is at hand. He’s coming, he’s coming! Master Lacy, hide

yourself. In, my mistress! For God’s sake, shift for yourselves.

LACY

Your father come! Sweet Rose, what shall I do?

Where shall I hide me? How shall I escape?

ROSE

A man, and want wit in extremity?

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Come, come, be Hans still - play the shoemaker.

Pull on my shoe.