The Birth of Merlin: Act II Scene I

Enter Clown and his sister great with childe.

CLOWN.
Away, follow me no further, I am none of thy brother. What, with childe? great with childe, and knows not whose the father on't! I am asham'd to call thee sister.

JOAN.
Believe me, brother, he was a gentleman.

CLOWN.
Nay, I believe that; he gives arms, and legs too, and has made you the herald to blaze 'em: but, Joan, Joan, sister Joan, can you tell me his name that did it? how shall we call my cousin, your bastard, when we have it?

JOAN.
Alas, I know not the gentlemans name, brother.
I met him in these woods the last great hunting;
He was so kinde and proffer'd me so much,
As I had not the heart to ask him more.

CLOWN.
Not his name? why, this showes your country breeding now; had you been brought up i'th' city, you'd have got a father first, and the childe afterwards: hast thou no markes to know him by?

JOAN.
He had a most rich attire, a fair hat and feather, a gilt sword, and most excellent hangers.

CLOWN.
Pox on his hangers, would he had bin gelt for his labor.

JOAN.
Had you but heard him swear, you would have thought--

CLOWN.
I, as you did; swearing and lying goes together still. Did his oathes get you with childe? we shall have a roaring boy then, yfaith. Well, sister, I must leave you.

JOAN.
Dear brother, stay, help me to finde him out,
I'le ask no further.

CLOWN.
'Sfoot, who should I finde? who should I ask for?

JOAN.
Alas, I know not, he uses in these woods,
And these are witness of his oathes and promise.

CLOWN.
We are like to have a hot suit on't, when our best witness's but a knight a'th' post.

JOAN.
Do but enquire this forrest, I'le go with you;
Some happy fate may guide us till we meet him.

CLOWN.
Meet him? and what name shall we have for him, when we meet him? 'Sfoot, thou neither knowst him nor canst tell what to call him. Was ever man tyr'd with such a business, to have a sister got with childe, and know not who did it? Well, you shall see him, I'le do my best for you, Ile make proclamation; if these woods and trees, as you say, will bear any witness, let them answer. Oh yes: If there be any man that wants a name will come in for conscience sake, and acknowledge himself to be a whore-master, he shal have that laid to his charge in an hour, he shall not be rid on in an age; if he have lands, he shall have an heir; if he have patience, he shall have a wife; if he have neither lands nor patience, he shall have a whore. So ho, boy, so ho, so, so.

(Within). 

PRINCE UTER.
So ho, boy, so ho, illo ho, illo ho.

CLOWN.
Hark, hark, sister, there's one hollows to us; what a wicked world's this! a man cannot so soon name a whore, but a knave comes presently: and see where he is; stand close a while, sister.

Enter Prince Uter. PRINCE.
How like a voice that Eccho spake, but oh,
My thoughts are lost for ever in amazement.
Could I but meet a man to tell her beauties,
These trees would bend their tops to kiss the air
That from my lips should give her praises up.

CLOWN.
He talks of a woman, sister.

JOAN.
This may be he, brother.

CLOWN.
View him well; you see, he has a fair sword, but his hangers are faln.

PRINCE.
Here did I see her first, here view her beauty:
Oh, had I known her name, I had been happy.

CLOWN.
Sister, this is he, sure; he knows not thy name neither. A couple of wise fools yfaith, to get children, and know not one another.

PRINCE.
You weeping leaves, upon whose tender cheeks
Doth stand a flood of tears at my complaint,
Who heard my vows and oathes--

CLOWN.
Law, Law, he has been a great swearer too; tis he, sister.

PRINCE.
For having overtook her;
As I have seen a forward blood-hound strip
The swifter of the cry, ready to seize
His wished hopes, upon the sudden view,
Struck with astonishment, at his arriv'd prey,
Instead of seizure stands at fearful bay;
Or like to Marius soldiers, who, o'retook,
The eye sight killing Gorgon at one look
Made everlasting stand: so fear'd my power,
Whose cloud aspir'd the sun, dissolv'd a shower.
Pigmalion, then I tasted thy sad fate,
Whose ivory picture and my fair were one:
Our dotage past imagination.
I saw and felt desire--

CLOWN.
Pox a your fingering! did he feel, sister?

PRINCE.
But enjoy'd not.
Oh fate, thou hadst thy days and nights to feed
On calm affection; one poor sight was all,
Converts my pleasure to perpetual thrall:
Imbracing thine, thou lostest breath and desire,
So I, relating mine, will here expire.
For here I vow to you mournful plants,
Who were the first made happy by her fame,
Never to part hence, till I know her name.

CLOWN.
Give me thy hand, sister, the childe has found his father. This is he, sure; as I am a man, had I been a woman, these kinde words would have won me, I should have had a great belly too, that's certain. Well, I'le speak to him.--Most honest and fleshly minded gentleman, give me your hand, sir.

PRINCE.
Ha, what art thou, that thus rude and boldly darest
Take notice of a wretch so much ally'd
To misery as I am?

CLOWN.
Nay, sir, for our aliance, I shall be found to be a poor brother in law of your worships: the gentlewoman you spake on is my sister: you see what a clew she spreads; her name is Joan Go-too't. I am her elder, but she has been at it before me; 'tis a womans fault.--Pox a this bashfulness! come forward, jug, prethee, speak to him.

PRINCE.
Have you e're seen me, lady?

CLOWN.
Seen ye? ha, ha! It seems she has felt you too: here's a yong Go-too't a coming, sir; she is my sister; we all love to Go-too't, as well as your worship. She's a maid yet, but you may make her a wife, when you please, sir.

PRINCE.
I am amaz'd with wonder: tell me, woman,
What sin have you committed worthy this?

JOAN.
Do you not know me, sir?

PRINCE.
Know thee! as I do thunder, hell, and mischief;
Witch, scullion, hag!

CLOWN.
I see he will marry her; he speaks so like a husband.

PRINCE.
Death! I will cut their tongues out for this blasphemy.
Strumpet, villain, where have you ever seen me?

CLOWN.
Speak for your self, with a pox to ye.

PRINCE.
Slaves, Ile make you curse your selves for this temptation.

JOAN.
Oh, sir, if ever you did speak to me,
It was in smoother phrase, in fairer language.

PRINCE.
Lightning consume me, if I ever saw thee.
My rage o'reflowes my blood, all patience flies me. (Beats her.

CLOWN.
Hold, I beseech you, sir, I have nothing to say to you.

JOAN.
Help, help! murder, murder!

Enter Toclio and Oswold.
TOCLIO.
Make haste, sir, this way the sound came, it was a wood.

OSWOLD.
See where she is, and the prince, the price of all our wishes.

CLOWN.
The prince, say ye? ha's made a poor subject of me, I am sure.

TOCLIO.
Sweet prince, noble Uter, speak, how fare you, sir?

OSWOLD.
Dear sir, recal your self; your fearful absence
Hath won too much already on the grief
Of our sad king, from whom our laboring search
Hath had this fair success in meeting you.

TOCLIO.
His silence and his looks argue distraction.

CLOWN.
Nay, he's mad, sure, he will not acknowledge my sister, nor the childe neither.

OSWOLD.
Let us entreat your grace along with us;
Your sight will bring new life to the king your brother.

TOCLIO.
Will you go, sir?

PRINCE.
Yes, any whether; guide me, all's hell I see;
Man may change air, but not his misery. (Exit Prince, Toclio.

JOAN.
Lend me one word with you, sir.

CLOWN.
Well said, sister, he has a feather, and fair hangers too, this may be he.

OSWOLD.
What would you, fair one?

JOAN.
Sure, I have seen you in these woods e're this.

OSWOLD.
Trust me, never; I never saw this place,
Till at this time my friend conducted me.

JOAN.
The more's my sorrow then.

OSWOLD.
Would I could comfort you.
I am a bachelor, but it seems you have
A husband, you have been fouly o'reshot else.

CLOWN.
A womans fault, we are all subject to go to't, sir.

Enter Toclio.

TOCLIO.
Oswold, away; the prince will not stir a foot without you.

OSWOLD.
I am coming. Farewel, woman.

TOCLIO.
Prithee, make haste. (Exit Oswold.

JOAN.
Good sir, but one word with you, e're you leave us.

TOCLIO.
With me, fair soul?

CLOWN.
Shee'l have a fling at him too; the childe must have a father.

JOAN.
Have you ne'er seen me, sir?

TOCLIO.
Seen thee? 'Sfoot, I have seen many fair faces in my time: prithee, look up, and do not weep so. Sure, pretty wanton, I have seen this face before.

JOAN.
It is enough, though you ne're see me more. (Sinks down.

TOCLIO.
'Sfoot, she's faln: this place is inchanted, sure; look to the woman, fellow. (Exit.

CLOWN.
Oh, she's dead, she's dead! As you are a man, stay and help, sir.--Joan, Joan, sister Joan, why, Joan Go-too't, I say; will you cast away your self, and your childe, and me too? what do you mean, sister?

JOAN.
Oh, give me pardon, sir; 'twas too much joy
Opprest my loving thoughts; I know you were
Too noble to deny me--ha! Where is he?

CLOWN.
Who, the gentleman? he's gone, sister.

JOAN.
Oh! I am undone, then! Run, tell him I did
But faint for joy; dear brother, haste; why dost thou stay?
Oh, never cease, till he give answer to thee.

CLOWN.
He: which he? what do you call him, tro?

JOAN.
Unnatural brother,
Shew me the path he took; why dost thou dally?
Speak, oh, which way went he?

CLOWN.
This way, that way, through the bushes there.

JOAN.
Were it through fire,
The journey's easie, winged with sweet desire. (Exit.

CLOWN.
Hey day, there's some hope of this yet. Ile follow her for kindreds sake; if she miss of her purpose now, she'l challenge all she findes, I see; for if ever we meet with a two-leg'd creature in the whole kingdom, the childe shall have a father, that's certain. (Exit.

On to Scene II

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