SCENE IV
Hold, take these keys, and fetch more spices, nurse.
They call for dates and quinces in the pastry.
Come, stir, stir, stir! the second cock hath crow’d,
The curfew-bell hath rung, ’tis three o’clock:
Look to the baked meats, good Angelica:
Spare not for the cost.
Go, you cot-quean, go,
Get you to bed; faith, You’ll be sick to-morrow
For this night’s watching.
No, not a whit: what! I have watch’d ere now
All night for lesser cause, and ne’er been sick.
Ay, you have been a mouse-hunt in your time;
But I will watch you from such watching now.
A jealous hood, a jealous hood!
Now, fellow, |
Things for the cook, sir; but I know not what.
Make haste, make haste.
Sirrah, fetch drier logs: |
I have a head, sir, that will find out logs,
And never trouble Peter for the matter.
Mass, and well said; a merry whoreson, ha!
Thou shalt be logger-head. Good faith, ’tis day:
The county will be here with music straight,
For so he said he would: I hear him near.
I’ll go and chat with Paris: hie, make haste,
Make haste; the bridegroom he is come already:
Make haste, I say.