SCENE IV. ［London: a room in the Lord Mayor's house.］
Enter HANS and ROSE, arm in arm
Hans. How happy am I by embracing thee!
Oh, 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,
Let not too over-fond esteem of me
Hinder that happy hour. Invent the means,
And Rose will follow thee through all the world.
Hans. Oh, how I surfeit with excess of joy,
Made happy by thy rich perfection!
But since thou pay'st sweet interest to my hopes,
Redoubling love on love, let me once more
Like to a bold-fac'd debtor crave of thee,
This night to steal abroad, and at Eyre's house,
Who now by death of certain aldermen
Is mayor of London, and my master once,
Meet thou thy Lacy, where in spite of change,
Your father's anger, and mine uncle's hate,
Our happy nuptials will we consummate.
Enter SYBIL
Sybil. Oh God, what will you do, mistress? Shift for yourself, your father is at hand! He's coming, he's coming! Master Lacy, hide yourself in my mistress! For God's sake, shift for yourselves!
Hans. 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?
Come, come, be Hans still, play the shoemaker,
Pull on my shoe.
Enter the LORD MAYOR
Hans. Mass, and that's well rememb'red.
Sybil. Here comes your father.
Hans. Forware, metresse, 'tis un good skow, it sal vel dute, or ye sal neit betallen.〖Indeed, mistress, 'tis a good shoe, it shall fit well, or you shall not pay.〗
Rose. Oh God, it pincheth me; what will you do?
Hans. ［Aside.］ Your father's presence pincheth, not the shoe.
L. Mayor. Well done; fit my daughter well, and she shall please thee well.
Hans. Yaw, yaw, ick weit dat well; forware, 'tis un good skoo, 'tis gimait van neits leither; se euer, mine here.〖Yes, yes, I know that well; indeed, 'tis a good shoe, 'tis made of neat's leather, see here, good sir!〗
Enter a Prentice
L. Mayor. I do believe it.—What's the news with you?
Prentice. Please you, the Earl of Lincoln at the gate
Is newly lighted, and would speak with you.
L. Mayor. The Earl of Lincoln come to speak with me?
Well, well, I know his errand. Daughter Rose,
Send hence your shoemaker, dispatch, have done!
Syb, make things handsome! Sir boy, follow me. Exit.
Hans. Mine uncle come! Oh, what may this portend?
Sweet Rose, this of our love threatens an end.
Rose. Be not dismay'd at this; whate'er befall,
Rose is thine own. To witness I speak truth,
Where thou appoint'st the place, I'll meet with thee.
I will not fix a day to follow thee,
But presently〖Immediately.〗 steal hence. Do not reply:
Love which gave strength to bear my father's hate,
Shall now add wings to further our escape. Exeunt.