A Select Collection of Old English Plays, volume 1
A Select Collection of Old English Plays, volume 1
Dodsley Robert
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wilt not thou be in rest?Why, will not thou thy horns in hold?Thinkest thou that I am a cuckold?God's arms, the monster cometh toward me still, Except I fight manfully, it will me surely kill! [_Then he must fight against the snail with his club_. MILES. O Jupiter Lord, dost thou not see and hear, How he feareth the snail, as it were a bear! THERSITES. Well, with my club I have had good luck;Now with my sword have at thee a pluck! [_And he must cast his club away_. I will make thee, ere I go, f...or to duck, And thou were as tall a man as Friar Tuck. I say yet again, thy horns in draw, Or else I will make thee to have wounds raw. Art thou not afeardTo have thy beardPared with my sword? [_Here he must fight then with his sword against the snail, and the snaildraweth her horns in_. Ah well, now no more:Thou mightest have done so before. I laid at it so sore, That it thought it should have be lore[596]And it had not drawn in his horns again, Surely I would the monster have slain. But now, farewell, I will work thee no more pain.
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