The Shoemaker’s Holiday – Act 2, Scene 4

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How now, good Dodger, what’s the news in France?

My Lord, upon the eighteenth day of May,
The French and English were prepared to fight;
Each side with eager fury gave the sign
Of a most hot encounter; five long hours
Both armies fought together; at the length,
The lot of victory fell on our sides.
Twelve thousand Frenchmen that day died,
Four thousand English, and no man of name
But Captain Hyam and young Ardington.

Two gallant gentlemen:  I knew them well.
But, Dodger, prithee tell me, in this fight
How did my cousin Lacy bear himself?

My Lord, your cousin Lacy was not there.

Not there?

No, my good Lord.

Sure thou mistakest!
I saw him shipped, and a thousand eyes beside
Were witnesses of the farewells which he gave,
When I with weeping eyes bid him adieu.
Dodger, take heed!

My Lord, I am advised
That what I spake is true; to prove it so,
His cousin Askew that supplied his place
Sent me for him from France, that secretly
He might convey himself hither.

Is’t even so?
Dares he so carelessly venture his life
Upon the indignation of a King?
Hath he despised my love, and spurned those favours
Which I with prodigal hand poured on his head?
He shall repent his rashness with his soul;
Since of my love he makes no estimate,
I’ll make him wish he had not known my hate!
Thou hast no other news?

None else, my Lord.

None worse I know thou hast.  Procure the King
To crown his giddy brows with ample honours,
Send him chief colonel, and all my hope
Thus to be dashed?  But ’tis in vain to grieve:
One evil cannot a worse relieve.
Upon my life, I have found out his plot!
That old dog Love that fawned upon him so,
Love to that puling girl, his fair-cheeked Rose,
The Lord Mayor’s daughter, hath distracted him;
And in the fire of that love’s lunacy
Hath he burnt up himself, consumed his credit,
Lost the King’s love, yea and I fear, his life,
Only to get a wanton to his wife!
Dodger, it is so.

I fear so, my good Lord.

It is soCnay, sure, it cannot be!
I am at my wits’ end.  Dodger!

Yea, my Lord?

Thou art acquainted with my nephew’s haunts:
Spend this gold for thy pains, go seek him out.
Watch at my Lord Mayor’s:  there, if he live,
Dodger, thou shalt be sure to meet with him:
Prithee, be diligent.  Lacy, thy name
Lived once in honour, now dead in shame!
Be circumspect.                                                                     [Exit LINCOLN.

I warrant you, my Lord.                                                       [Exit DODGER.

Proceed to next scene


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