MILLISCENT.

--The holy maid will be no Nun.

SIR ARTHUR.

Madam, we have some business of import, And must be gone.

Wilt please you take my wife into your closet, Who further will acquaint you with my mind; And so, good madam, for this time adieu.

[Exeunt women.]

SIR RALPH.

Well now, Francke Jerningham, how sayest thou?

To be brief,-- What wilt thou say for all this, if we two, Her father and my self, can bring about, That we convert this Nun to be a wife, And thou the husband to this pretty Nun?

How, then, my lad? ha, Francke, it may be done.

HARRY.

--Aye, now it works.

FRANCKE.

O G.o.d, sir, you amaze me at your words; Think with your self, sir, what a thing it were To cause a recluse to remove her vow: A maimed, contrite, and repentant soul, Ever mortified with fasting and with prayer, Whose thoughts, even as her eyes, are fixd on heaven, To draw a virgin, thus devour'd with zeal, Back to the world: O impious deed!

Nor by the Canon Law can it be done Without a dispensation from the Church: Besides, she is so p.r.o.ne unto this life, As she'll even shriek to hear a husband named.

BILBO.

Aye, a poor innocent she! Well, here's no knavery; he flouts the old fools to their teeth.

SIR RAPH.

Boy, I am glad to hear Thou mak'st such scruple of that conscience; And in a man so young as in your self, I promise you tis very seldom seen.

But Franke, this is a trick, a mere devise, A sleight plotted betwixt her father and my self, To thrust Mounchensey's nose besides the cushion; That, being thus behard of all access, Time yet may work him from her thoughts, And give thee ample scope to thy desires.

BILBO.

--A plague on you both for a couple of Jews!

HENRY.

--How now, Franke, what say you to that?

FRANCKE.

--Let me alone, I warrant thee.-- Sir, a.s.sured that this motion doth proceed From your most kind and fatherly affection, I do dispose my liking to your pleasure: But for it is a matter of such moment As holy marriage, I must crave thus much, To have some conference iwth my ghostly father, Friar Hildersham, here by, at Waltham Abbey, To be absolude of things that it is fit None only but my confessor should know.

SIR RAPH.

With all my heart: he is a reverend man; And to morrorw morning we will meet all at the Abbey, Where by th' opinion of that reverend man We will proceed; I like it pa.s.sing well.

Till then we part, boy; aye, think of it; farewell!

A parent's care no mortal tongue can tell.

[Exeunt.]

SCENE II. Before the Priory Gate.

[Enter Sir Arthur Clare, and Raymond Mounchensey, like a Friar.]

SIR ARTHUR.

Holy young Novice, I have told you now My full intent, and do refer the rest To your professed secrecy and care: And see, Our serious speech hath stolen upon the way, That we are come unto the Abbey gate.

Because I know Mountchensey is a fox, That craftily doth overlook my doings, I'll not be seen, not I. Tush, I have done: I had a daughter, but she's now a Nun.

Farewell, dear son, farewell.

MOUNTCHENSEY.

Fare you well!--Aye, you have done!

Your daughter, sir, shall not be long a Nun.

O my rare Tutor! never mortal brain Plotted out such a ma.s.s of policy; And my dear bosom is so great with laughter, Begot by his simplicity and error, My soul is fallen in labour with her joy.

O my true friends, Franke Jerningham and Clare, Did you now know but how this jest takes fire-- That good sir Arthur, thinking me a novice, Hath even poured himself into my bosom, O, you would vent your spleens with tickling mirth!

But, Raymond, peace, and have an eye about, For fear perhaps some of the Nuns look out.

Peace and charity within, Never touch't with deadly sin; I cast my holy water pure On this wall and on this door, That from evil shall defend, And keep you from the ugly fiend: Evil spirit, by night nor day, Shall approach or come this way; Elf nor Fairy, by this grace, Day nor night shall haunt this place.

Holy maidens!

[Knock.]

[Answer within.] Who's that which knocks? ha, who's there?

MOUNTCHENSEY.

Gentle Nun, here is a Friar.

[Enter Nun.]

NUN.

A Friar without, now Christ us save!

Holy man, what wouldst thou have?

MOUNTCHENSEY.

Holy maid, I hither come From Friar and father Hildersome, By the favour and the grace Of the Prioress of this place, Amongst you all to visit one That's come for approbation; Before she was as now you are, The daughter of Sir Arthur Clare, But since she now became a Nune, Call'd Milliscnet of Edmunton.

NUN.

Holy man, repose you there; This news I'll to our Abbess bear, To tell her what a man is sent, And your message and intent.

MOUNTCHENSEY.

Benedicite.

NUN.

Benedicite.

[Exit.]

MOUNTCHENSEY.

Do, my good plump wench; if all fall right, I'll make your sister-hood one less by night.

Now happy fortune speed this merry drift, I like a wench comes roundly to her shrift.

[Enter Lady, Milliscent.]

LADY.

Have Friars recourse then to the house of Nuns?