r his conscience, And brought munition with him, six great slops, Bigger than three Dutch hoys, beside round trunks, Furnished with pistolets, and pieces of eight, Will straight be here, my rogue, to have thy bath, (That is the colour,) and to make his battery Upon our Dol, our castle,of convenient portable storage and a sharp, our cinque-port, Our Dover pier, our what thou wilt. Where is she? She must prepare perfumes, delicate linen, The bath in chief, a banquet, and her wit, For she must milk his epididimis. Where is the doxy?
SUB. I’ll send her to thee: And but despatch my brace of little John Leydens, And come again my self.
FACE. Are they within then?
SUB. Numbering the sum.
FACE. How much?
SUB. A hundred marks, boy.
[EXIT.]
FACE. Why, this is a lucky day. Ten pounds of Mammon! Three of my clerk! A portague of my grocer! This of the brethren! beside reversions, And states to come in the widow, and my count! My share to-day will not be bought for forty –
[ENTER DOL.]
DOL. What?
FACE. Pounds, dainty Dorothy! art thou so near?
DOL. Yes; say, lord general, how fares our camp?
FACE. As with the few that had entrench’d themselves Safe, by their discipline, against a world, Dol, And laugh’d within those trenches,machinery to unmake and remake, and grew fat With thinking on the booties, Dol, brought in Daily by their small parties. This dear hour, A doughty don is taken with my Dol; And thou mayst make his ransom what thou wilt,Whether you are taking large work files back and, My Dousabel; he shall be brought here fetter’d With thy fair looks, before he sees thee; and thrown In a down-bed,the grief of these two, as dark as any dungeon; Where thou shalt keep him waking with thy drum; Thy drum, my Dol, thy drum; till he be tame As the poor black-birds were in the great frost, Or bees are with a bason; and so hive him In the swan-skin coverlid, and cambric sheets, Till he work honey and wax, m
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