Internet Shakespeare Editions

About this text

  • Title: The Tragedy of Locrine (Third Folio, 1664)

  • Copyright Digital Renaissance Editions. This text may be freely used for educational, non-profit purposes; for all other uses contact the Editor.
    Authors: Anonymous, William Shakespeare
    Not Peer Reviewed

    The Tragedy of Locrine (Third Folio, 1664)

    Scena Quarta.
    Enter Strumbo, Trumpart, Oliver, and his son Wil-
    1130liam following them.
    Strum. Nay neighbour Oliver, if you be so whot,
    come prepare your self, you shall find two as stout fellows
    of us, as any in all the North.
    Oliv. No by my dorth neighbour Strumbo, Ich zee
    1135dat you are a man of small zideration, dat will zeek to
    injure your old vreends, one of your vamiliar guests, and
    derefore zeeing your pinion is to deal withouten reazon,
    Ich and my zonne William will take dat course, dat shall
    be fardest vrom reason; how zay you, will you have my
    1140Daughter or no?
    Strum. A very hard question neighbour, but I will
    solve it as I may: what reason have you to demand it
    of me?
    Will. Marry sir, what reason had you when my sister
    1145was in the barn to tumble her upon the hay, and to fish
    her Belly.
    Strum. Mass thou say'st true; well, but would you
    have me marry her therefore? No, I scorn her, and you,
    and you. I, I scorn you all.
    1150Oliv. You will not have her then?
    Strum. No, as I am a true Gentleman.
    Will. Then will we school you, ere you and we part
    Enter Margerie, and snatch the staff out of her bro-
    1155thers hand as he is fighting.
    Strum. I, you come in pudding time, or else I had
    drest them.
    Mar. You master sawce-box, lobcock, cocks-comb,
    you slopsawce, lickfingers, will you not hear?
    1160Strum. Who speak you to, me?
    Mar. I sir, to you, John lackhonestie, littlewit, is it
    you that will have none of me?
    Strum. No by my troth, mistress nicebice, how fine
    you can nick-name me; I think you were brought up in
    1165the University of Bridewell, you have your Rhetorick so
    ready at your tongues end, as if you were never well
    warned when you were young.
    Mar. Why then goodman cods-head, if you will have
    none of me, farewell.
    1170Strum. If you be so plain, mistress driggle-d
    fare you well.
    Mar. Nay, master Strumbo, ere you go from hence we
    must have more words, you will have none of me?
    They both fight.
    1175Strum. Oh my head, my head, leave, leave, leave,
    I will, I will, I will.
    Mar. Upon that condition I let thee alone.
    Oliv. How now master Strumbo, hath my daughter
    taught you a new lesson?
    1180Strum. I but hear you, goodman Oliver? it will not
    be for my ease to have my head broken every day, therefore
    remedy this, and we shall agree.
    Oli. Well, Zon, well, for you are my Zon now, all
    shall be remedied, Daughter be friends with him.
    1185Shake hands.
    Strum. You are a sweet Nut, the Devil crack you.
    Masters, I think it be my luck, my first wife was a loving
    quiet wench, but this I think would weary the Devil. I
    would she might be burnt as my other Wife was; if not,
    1190I must run to the Halter for help. O Codpiece, thou hast
    undone thy Master, this it is to be medling with warm