A Yorkshire Tragedy

SCENE I. A room in Calverly Hall. Enter Oliver and Ralph, two servingmen.] OLIVER. Sirrah Ralph, my young Mistress is in such a pitiful passionate humor for the long absence of her love- RALPH. Why, can you blame her? why, apples hanging longer on the tree then when they are ripe makes so many fallings; viz., Mad wenches, because they are not gathered in time, are fain to drop of them selves, and then tis Common you know for every man to take em up. OLIVER. Mass, thou sayest true, Tis common indeed: but, sirrah, is neither our young master returned, nor our fellow Sam come from London? RALPH. Neither of either, as the Puritan bawd says. Slidd, I hear Sam: Sam's come, her's Tarry come, yfaith, now my nose itches for news. OLIVER. And so does mine elbow. Sam calls within. Where are you there?] SAM. Boy, look you walk my horse with discretion; I have rid him simply. I warrant his skin sticks to his back with very heat: if a should catch cold and get the Cough of the Lungs I were well served, were I not? Enter Sam. Furnisht with things from London.] What, Ralph and Oliver.