A YORK-SHIRE TRAGEDY
Page: 1

AS IT WAS PLAYED BY THE KING'S MAJESTY'S PLAYERS.



Dramatis Personae.

Husband.
Master of a College.
Knight, a Justice of Peace.
Oliver,
Ralph,
Samuel, serving-men.
Other Servants, and Officers.
Wife.
Maid-servant.
A little Boy.



SCENE I. A room in Calverly Hall.

[Enter Oliver and Ralph, two servingmen.]


OLIVER.
Sirrah Ralph, my young Mistress is in such a pitiful passionate
humor for the long absence of her love--

RALPH.
Why, can you blame her? why, apples hanging longer on the tree
then when they are ripe makes so many fallings; viz., Mad
wenches, because they are not gathered in time, are fain to
drop of them selves, and then tis Common you know for every
man to take em up.

OLIVER.
Mass, thou sayest true, Tis common indeed: but, sirrah, is
neither our young master returned, nor our fellow Sam come
from London?

RALPH.
Neither of either, as the Puritan bawd says. Slidd, I hear
Sam: Sam's come, her's! Tarry! come, yfaith, now my nose
itches for news.

OLIVER.
And so does mine elbow.

[Sam calls within. Where are you there?]

SAM.
Boy, look you walk my horse with discretion; I have rid him
simply. I warrant his skin sticks to his back with very heat:
if a should catch cold and get the Cough of the Lungs I were
well served, were I not?

[Enter Sam. Furnisht with things from London.]

What, Ralph and Oliver.

AMBO.
Honest fellow Sam, welcome, yfaith! what tricks hast thou
brought from London?

SAM.
You see I am hangd after the truest fashion: three hats, and
two glasses, bobbing upon em, two rebato wires upon my breast,
a capcase by my side, a brush at my back, an Almanack in my
pocket, and three ballats in my Codpiece: nay, I am the true
picture of a Common servingman.

OLIVER.
I'll swear thou art. Thou mayest set up when thou wilt.
There's many a one begins with less, I can tell thee, that
proves a rich man ere he dies. But what's the news from
London, Sam?

RALPH.
Aye, that's well said; what's the news from London, Sirrah?
My young mistress keeps such a puling for her love.

SAM.
Why, the more fool she; aye, the more ninny hammer she.