A TALE OF A TUB.
181
I'll leave to beat it on the broken hoof,
And ease my pasterns; I'll no more high constables.
And ease my pasterns; I'll no more high constables.
Tub. I cannot choose but smile to see thee troubled
With such a bald, half-hatched circumstance.
The captain was not robb'd, as is reported;
That trick the justice craftily devised,
To break the marriage with the tileman Clay.
The hue and cry was merely counterfeit:
The rather may you judge it to be such,
Because the bridegroom was described to be
One of the thieves first in the felony;
Which, how far 'tis from him, yourselves may guess.
'Twas justice Bramble's fetch to get the wench.
With such a bald, half-hatched circumstance.
The captain was not robb'd, as is reported;
That trick the justice craftily devised,
To break the marriage with the tileman Clay.
The hue and cry was merely counterfeit:
The rather may you judge it to be such,
Because the bridegroom was described to be
One of the thieves first in the felony;
Which, how far 'tis from him, yourselves may guess.
'Twas justice Bramble's fetch to get the wench.
Turfe. And is this true, 'squire Tub?
Tub. Believe me, Turfe,
As I am a 'squire; or less, a gentleman.
As I am a 'squire; or less, a gentleman.
Turfe. I take my office back, and my authority,
Upon your worship's words: Neighbours, I am
High constable again. Where's my zon Clay?
He shall be zon yet; wife, your meat by leisure:
Draw back the spits.
Upon your worship's words: Neighbours, I am
High constable again. Where's my zon Clay?
He shall be zon yet; wife, your meat by leisure:
Draw back the spits.
Dame T. That's clone already, man.
Turfe. I'll break this marriage off; and afterward,
She shall be given to her first betroth'd.
Look to the meat,[1] wife, look well to the roast.
[Exit, followed by his neighbours.
She shall be given to her first betroth'd.
Look to the meat,[1] wife, look well to the roast.
[Exit, followed by his neighbours.
Tub. I'll follow him aloof to see the event.
[Exit.
[Exit.
- ↑ Look to the meat.] Here is a manifest sneer at Shakspeare.
The unworthy subterfuge of roasting this meat instead of baking it, as in Romeo and Juliet would not have screened the author from the just resentment of the variorum critics, had they luckily known of this passage.
