Man. Pray, sir, be patient; 'tis as much im possible (Unless we sweep them from the door with cannons,) Man. Alas, I know not; How gets the tide in? As much as one sound cudgel of four foot (You see the poor remainder) could distribute, I made no spare, sir. Port. You did nothing, sir. Man. I am not Sampson, nor sir Guy, nor Colbrand, to mow them down before me: but, if I spar'd any, that had a head to hit, either young or old, he or she, cuckold or cuckold-maker, let me never hope to see a chine again; and that I would not for a cow, God save her. [Within] Do you hear, master Porter? Port. I shall be with you presently, good master puppy. Keep the door close, sirrah. Man. What would you have me do? Port. What should you do, but knock them down by the dozens? Is this Moorfields to muster in? or have we some strange Indian with the great tool come to court, the women so besiege us? Bless me, what a fry of fornication is at door! On my christian conscience, this one christening will beget a thousand; here will be father, godfather, and all together. Man. The spoons will be the bigger, sir. There is a fellow somewhat near the door, he should be a EPILOGUE. 'Tis ten to one, this play can never please The merciful construction of good women; Pan. ....... If ever you prove false to one another, since I have taken such pains to bring you together, let all pitiful goers-between be called to the world's end after my name, call them all-Pandars; let all inconstant men te Troilus's, all false women Cressids, and all brokersbetween Pandars! say, amen. Troi. Amen. |