Dialogue In Verse

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_Jack._ Seest thou not yon farmer's son?
  He hath stoln my love from me, alas!
  What shall I do?  I am undone;
  My heart will ne'er be as it was.
  O, but he gives her gay gold rings,
  And tufted gloves [for] holiday,
  And many other goodly things,
  That hath stoln my love away.

_Friend._ Let him give her gay gold rings
  Or tufted gloves, were they ne'er so [gay];
  [F]or were her lovers lords or kings,
  They should not carry the wench away.

_Jack._ But 'a dances wonders well,
  And with his dances stole her love from me:
  Yet she wont to say, I bore the bell
  For dancing and for courtesy.

_Dick._ Fie, lusty younker, what do you here,
  Not dancing on the green to-day?
  For Pierce, the farmer's son, I fear,
  Is like to carry your wench away.

_Jack._ Good Dick, bid them all come hither,
  And tell Pierce from me beside,
  That, if he thinks to have the wench,
  Here he stands shall lie with the bride.

_Dick._ Fie, Nan, why use thy old lover so,
  For any other new-come guest?
  Thou long time his love did know;
  Why shouldst thou not use him best?

_Nan._ Bonny Dick, I will not forsake
  My bonny Rowland for any gold:
  If he can dance as well as Pierce,
  He shall have my heart in hold.

_Pierce._ Why, then, my hearts, let's to this gear;
  And by dancing I may won
  My Nan, whose love I hold so dear
  As any realm under the sun.

_Gentleman._ Then, gentles, ere I speed from hence,
  I will be so bold to dance
  A turn or two without offence;
  For, as I was walking along by chance,
  I was told you did agree.

_Friend._ 'Tis true, good sir; and this is she
  Hopes your worship comes not to crave her;
  For she hath lovers two or three,
  And he that dances best must have her.

_Gentleman._ How say you, sweet, will you dance with me?
  And you [shall] have both land and [hill];
  My love shall want nor gold nor fee.

_Nan._ I thank you, sir, for your good will;
  But one of these my love must be:
  I'm but a homely country maid,
  And far unfit for your degree;
  [To dance with you I am afraid.]

_Friend._ Take her, good sir, by the hand,
  As she is fairest: were she fairer,
  By this dance, you shall understand,
  He that can win her is like to wear her.

_Fool._ And saw you not [my] Nan to-day,
  My mother's maid have you not seen?
  My pretty Nan is gone away
  To seek her love upon the green.
  [I cannot see her 'mong so many:]
  She shall have me, if she have any.

_Nan._ Welcome, sweetheart, and welcome here,
  Welcome, my [true] love, now to me.
  This is my love [and my darling dear],
  And that my husband [soon] must be.
  And, boy, when thou com'st home, thou'lt see
  Thou art as welcome home as he.

_Gentleman._ Why, how now, sweet Nan!  I hope you jest.

_Nan._ No, by my troth, I love the fool the best:
  And, if you be jealous, God give you good-night!
  I fear you're a gelding, you caper so light.

_Gentleman._ I thought she had jested and meant but a fable,
  But now do I see she hath play['d] with his bable.
  I wish all my friends by me to take heed,
  That a fool come not near you when you mean to speed.

© Christopher Marlowe