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J ANE in a Seamster’s shop, working; enter Master H AMMON, muffled; he stands aloof 1
HAM. Yonder’s the shop, and there my fair love sits. | |
| She’s fair and lovely, but she is not mine. | |
| O, would she were! Thrice have I courted her, | |
| Thrice hath my hand been moist’ned with her hand, | 4 |
| Whilst my poor famish’d eyes do feed on that | |
| Which made them famish. I am unfortunate: | |
| I still love one, yet nobody loves me. | |
| I muse in other men what women see | 8 |
| That I so want! Fine Mistress Rose was coy, | |
| And this too curious! Oh, no, she is chaste, | |
| And for she thinks me wanton, she denies | |
| To cheer my cold heart with her sunny eyes. | 12 |
| How prettily she works, oh pretty hand! | |
| Oh happy work! It doth me good to stand | |
| Unseen to see her. Thus I oft have stood | |
| In frosty evenings, a light burning by her, | 16 |
| Enduring biting cold, only to eye her. | |
| One only look hath seem’d as rich to me | |
| As a king’s crown; such is love’s lunacy. | |
| Muffled I’ll pass along, and by that try | 20 |
| Whether she know me. | |
| JANE. Sir, what is’t you buy? | |
| What is’t you lack, sir, calico, or lawn, | |
| Fine cambric shirts, or bands, what will you buy? | 24 |
| HAM. [Aside.] That which thou wilt not sell. Faith, yet I’ll try: | |
| How do you sell this handkerchief? | |
| JANE. Good cheap. | |
| HAM. And how these ruffs? | 28 |
| JANE. Cheap too. | |
| HAM. And how this band? | |
| JANE. Cheap too. | |
| HAM. All cheap; how sell you then this hand? | 32 |
| JANE. My hands are not to be sold. | |
| HAM. To be given then! | |
| Nay, faith, I come to buy. | |
| JANE. But none knows when. | 36 |
| HAM. Good sweet, leave work a little while; let’s play. | |
| JANE. I cannot live by keeping holiday. | |
| HAM. I’ll pay you for the time which shall be lost. | |
| JANE. With me you shall not be at so much cost | 40 |
| HAM. Look, how you wound this cloth, so you wound me. | |
| JANE. It may be so. | |
| HAM. ’Tis so. | |
| JANE. What remedy? | 44 |
| HAM. Nay, faith, you are too coy. | |
| JANE. Let go my hand. | |
| HAM. I will do any task at your command, | |
| I would let go this beauty, were I not | 48 |
| In mind to disobey you by a power | |
| That controls kings: I love you! | |
| JANE. So, now part. | |
| HAM. With hands I may, but never with my heart. | 52 |
| In faith, I love you. | |
| JANE. I believe you do. | |
| HAM. Shall a true love in me breed hate in you? | |
| JANE. I hate you not. | 56 |
| HAM. Then you must love? | |
| JANE. I do. | |
| What are you better now? I love not you. | |
| HAM. All this, I hope, is but a woman’s fray, | 60 |
| That means, “Come to me,” when she cries, “Away!” | |
| In earnest, mistress, I do not jest, | |
| A true chaste love hath ent’red in my breast. | |
| I love you dearly, as I love my life, | 64 |
| I love you as a husband loves a wife; | |
| That, and no other love, my love requires, | |
| Thy wealth, I know, is little; my desires | |
| Thirst not for gold. Sweet, beauteous Jane, what’s mine | 68 |
| Shall, if thou make myself thine, all be thine. | |
| Say, judge, what is thy sentence, life or death? | |
| Mercy or cruelty lies in thy breath. | |
| JANE. Good sir, I do believe you love me well; | 72 |
| For ’tis a silly conquest, silly pride | |
| For one like you—I mean a gentleman— | |
| To boast that by his love-tricks he hath brought | |
| Such and such women to his amorous lure; | 76 |
| I think you do not so, yet many do, | |
| And make it even a very trade to woo. | |
| I could be coy, as many women be, | |
| Feed you with sunshine smiles and wanton looks, | 80 |
| But I detest witchcraft; say that I | |
| Do constantly believe, you constant have— | |
| HAM. Why dost thou not believe me? | |
| JANE. I believe you; | 84 |
| But yet, good sir, because I will not grieve you | |
| With hopes to taste fruit which will never fall, | |
| In simple truth this is the sum of all: | |
| My husband lives, at least, I hope he lives. | 88 |
| Press’d was he to these bitter wars in France; | |
| Bitter they are to me by wanting him. | |
| I have but one heart, and that heart’s his due. | |
| How can I then bestow the same on you? | 92 |
| Whilst he lives, his I live, be it ne’er so poor, | |
| And rather be his wife than a king’s whore. | |
| HAM. Chaste and dear woman, I will not abuse thee, | |
| Although it cost my life, if thou refuse me. | 96 |
| Thy husband, press’d for France, what was his name? | |
| JANE. Ralph Damport. | |
| HAM. Damport?—Here’s a letter sent | |
| From France to me, from a dear friend of mine, | 100 |
| A gentleman of place; here he doth write | |
| Their names that have been slain in every fight. | |
| JANE. I hope death’s scroll contains not my love’s name. | |
| HAM. Cannot you read? | 104 |
| JANE. I can. | |
| HAM. Peruse the same. | |
| To my remembrance such a name I read | |
| Amongst the rest. See here. | 108 |
| JANE. Ay me, he’s dead! | |
| He’s dead! If this be true, my dear heart’s slain! | |
| HAM. Have patience, dear love. | |
| JANE. Hence, hence! | 112 |
| HAM. Nay, sweet Jane, | |
| Make not poor sorrow proud with these rich tears. | |
| I mourn thy husband’s death, because thou mourn’st. | |
| JANE. That bill is forg’d; ’tis sign’d by forgery. | 116 |
| HAM. I’ll bring thee letters sent besides to many, | |
| Carrying the like report: Jane ’tis too true. | |
| Come, weep not: mourning, though it rise from love, | |
| Helps not the mourned, yet hurts them that mourn. | 120 |
| JANE. For God’s sake, leave me. | |
| HAM. Whither dost thou turn? | |
| Forget the dead, love them that are alive; | |
| His love is faded, try how mine will thrive. | 124 |
| JANE. ’Tis now no time for me to think on love. | |
| HAM. ’Tis now best time for you to think on love, | |
| Because your love lives not. | |
| JANE. Though he be dead, | 128 |
| My love to him shall not be buried; | |
| For God’s sake, leave me to myself alone. | |
| HAM. ’T would kill my soul, to leave thee drown’d in moan. | |
| Answer me to my suit, and I am gone; | 132 |
| Say to me yea or no. | |
| JANE. No. | |
| HAM. Then farewell! | |
| One farewell will not serve, I come again; | 136 |
| Come dry these wet cheeks; tell me, faith, sweet Jane, | |
| Yea or no, once more. | |
| JANE. Once more I say: no; | |
| Once more be gone, I pray; else will I go. | 140 |
| HAM. Nay, then I will grow rude, by this white hand, | |
| Until you change that cold “no”; here I’ll stand | |
| Till by your hard heart— | |
| JANE. Nay, for God’s love, peace! | 144 |
| My sorrows by your presence more increase. | |
| Not that you thus are present, but all grief | |
| Desires to be alone; therefore in brief | |
| Thus much I say, and saying bid adieu: | 148 |
| If ever I wed man, it shall be you. | |
| HAM. O blessed voice! Dear Jane, I’ll urge no more, | |
| Thy breath hath made me rich. | |
| JANE. Death makes me poor. Exeunt. | 152 |
