Digital Renaissance Editions

About this text

  • Title: An Humorous Day's Mirth (Modern)
  • Editor: Eleanor Lowe
  • Coordinating editor: Brett Greatley-Hirsch
  • General textual editor: Helen Ostovich
  • ISBN: 978-1-55058-513-1

    Copyright Digital Renaissance Editions. This text may be freely used for educational, non-profit purposes; for all other uses contact the Editor.
    Author: George Chapman
    Editor: Eleanor Lowe
    Peer Reviewed

    An Humorous Day's Mirth (Modern)

    1386.1[Scene 10]
    Enter Labervele, Foyes, Labesha, and the Countess.
    [Knocking at door] Where be these puritans, these murderers? Let me 1390come in here.
    Where is the strumpet?
    Where is this harlot? Let us come in here.
    What shall we do? The streets do wonder at us,
    And we do make our shame known to the world.
    Let us go and 1395complain us to the King.
    Come, Labesha, will you go?
    No, no, I scorn to go. No king shall hear my plaint.
    I will in silence live a man forlorn,
    Mad, and melancholy as a cat
    And never more wear hat-band on my hat.
    1400Enter Moren and Martia.
    What dost thou mean? Thou must not hang on me.
    Oh, good Lord Moren, have me home with you.
    You may excuse all to my father for me.
    1405Enter Lemot.
    Oh, my lord, be not so rude to leave her now.
    Alas, man, an if my wife should see it, I were undone.
    [Exeunt Moren and Martia.]
    Enter the King and another.
    Pursue them, sirs, and taking Martia from him,
    Convey her presently to Valere始s house.
    [Exeunt the King and another.]
    Enter [Florila] the Puritan to Lemot.
    What villain was it that hath uttered this?
    Why, 始twas even I. I thank you for your gentle 1415terms. You give me villain at the first. I wonder where始s this old doter? What, doth he think we fear him?
    Oh, monstrous man. What, wouldst thou have him take us?
    Would I, quoth you? Yea, by my troth would I. I know 1420he is but gone to call the constable or to raise the streets.
    What means the man, trow? Is he mad?
    No, no, I know what I do, I do it of purpose. I long to see him come and rail at you, to call you harlot, and to spurn you too. Oh, you始ll love me a great deal the 1425better. And yet, let him come, and if he touch but one thread of you, I始ll make that thread his poison.
    I know not what to say.
    Speak, do you love me?
    Yea, surely do I.
    Why, then have not I reason that love you so dearly as I do, to make you hateful in his sight that I might more freely enjoy you.
    Why, let us be gone, my kind Lemot, and not be wondered at in the open streets.
    I始ll go with you through fire, through death, through hell.
    Come, give me your own hand, my own dear heart,
    This hand that I adore and reverence,
    And loath to have it touch an old man始s bosom.
    Oh, let me sweetly kiss it.
    He bites.
    Out on thee, wretch. He hath bit me to the bone.
    Oh, barbarous cannibal. Now I perceive
    Thou wilt make me a mocking-stock to all the world.
    Come, come, leave your passions, they cannot move me. My father and my mother died both in a day, 1445and I rung me a peal for them, and they were no sooner brought to the church and laid in their graves, but I fetched me two or three fine capers aloft and took my leave of them, as men do of their mistresses at the ending of a galliard. Beso las manos.
    Oh, brutish nature, how accurst was I ever to endure the sound of this damned voice.
    Well, an you do not like my humour, I can be but sorry for it. I bit you for good will, an if you accept it, so; if no, go.
    Villain, thou didst it in contempt of me.
    Well, an you take it so, so be it. Hark you, madam, your wisest course is even to become Puritan again. Put off this vain attire, and say, ‘I have despised all, thanks my God. Good husband, I do love thee in the Lord始, and he 1460(good man) will think all this you have done was but to show thou couldst govern the world, and hide thee as a rainbow doth a storm. My dainty wench, go go. What, shall the flattering words of a vain man make you forget your duty to your husband? Away, repent, amend your life. 1465You have discredited your religion forever.
    Well, wretch, for this foul shame thou puttest on me, the curse of all affection light on thee.
    Go, Habbakuk, go. Why, this is excellent. I shall shortly become a schoolmaster, to whom men will put their 1470wives to practise. Well, now will I go set the Queen upon the King, and tell her where he is close with his wench. And he that mends my humour, take the spurs. Sit fast, for by heaven, I始ll jerk the horse you ride on.