A Select Collection of Old English Plays, Vol. VIII (4th edition) - Various
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_Enter_ CLACK _the Miller, with_ JOAN.
CLACK. Be not Jug, as a man would say, finer than fivepence, or more
proud than a peacock; that is, to seem to scorn to call in at Clack's
mill as you pass over the bridge. There be as good wenches as you be
glad to pay me toll.
JOAN. Like enough, Clack; I had as live[446] they
as I, and a great deal rather too. You, that take
toll of so many maids, shall never toll me after
you. O God! what a dangerous thing it is but to
peep once into love! I was never so haunted with
my harvest-work as I am with love's passions.
CLACK. Ay, but Joan, bear old proverbs in your memory; soft and fair;
now, sir, if you make too much haste to fall foul, ay, and that upon a
foul one too, there fades the flower of all Croydon. Tell me but this:
is not Clack the miller as good a name as Grim the collier?
JOAN. Alas! I know no difference in names
To make a maid or choose or to refuse.
CLACK. You were best to say, no, nor in men neither. Well, I'll be sworn
I have; but I have no reason to tell you so much, that care so little
for me [_aside_]: yet hark.
[CLACK _speaketh in her ear_.
_Enter_ GRIM _and_ PARSON SHORTHOSE.
GRIM. O Master Parson, there he stands like a scarecrow, to drive me
away from her that sticks as close to my heart as my shirt to my back,
or my hose to my heel. O Master Parson Shorthose, Grim is but a man as
another man is: colliers have but lives, as other men have. All is gone
if she go from me: Grim is nobody without her. My heart is in my mouth;
my mouth is in my hand; my hand threatens vengeance against the miller,
as it were a beadle with a whip in his hand, triumphing o'er a beggar's
back!
SHO. Be silent, Grim; stand close, and see;
So shall we know how all things be.
GRIM. In wisdom I am appeased; but in anger I broil, as it were a rasher
upon the coals.
JOAN. I'll not despise the trades ye either have;
Yet Grim the collier may, if he be wise,
Live even as merry as the day is long;
For, in my judgment, in his mean estate
Consists as much content as in more wealth.
GRIM. O Master Parson, write down this sweet saying of her in Grim's
commendations. She hath made my heart leap like a hobby-horse! O Joan,
this speech of thine will I carry with me even to my grave.
SHO. Be silent, then.
CLACK. Well, then, I perceive you mean to lead your life in a coalpit,
like one of the devil's drudges, and have your face look like the
outward side of an old iron pot or a blacking-box.
GRIM. He calleth my trade into question, I cannot forbear him.
SHO. Nay, then you spoil all: neighbour Grim,
I warrant you, she will answer him.
JOAN. What I intend, I am not bound to show
To thee, nor any other but my mother,
To whom in duty I submit myself:
Yet this I tell thee, though my birth be mean,
My honest virtuous life shall help to mend it;
And if I marry any in all this life,
He shall say boldly he hath an honest wife.
GRIM. O, that it were my fortune to light upon her, on condition my
horses were dead, and my cart broken, and I bound to carry coals, as
long as I live, from Croydon to London on my bare shoulders! Master
Parson, the flesh is frail, he shall tempt her no longer. She is but
weak, and he is the stronger. I'll upon him. Miller, thou art my
neighbour, and therein charity holds my hands; but methinks you, having
a water-gap of your own, you may do as other millers do, grind your
grist at home, knock your cogs into your own mill; you shall not cog
with her.
She doth descry thee;
And I defy thee
To a mortal fight;
And so, miller, good night.
And now, sweet Joan,
Be it openly known
Thou art my own.
CLACK. Well, Grim, since thou art so collier-like choleric--
GRIM. Miller, I will not be mealy-mouth'd.
CLACK. I'll give thee the fewer words now, because the next time we
meet, I'll pay thee all in dry blows. Carry coals[447] at a collier's
hands! if I do, let my mill be drowned up in water, and I hanged in
the roof.
JOAN. And if thou lov'st me, Grim, forbear him now.
GRIM. If I love thee! dost thou doubt of that? nay, rip me up, and look
into my heart, and thou shalt see thy own face pictured there as plainly
as in the proudest looking-glass in all Croydon. If I love thee! then,
tears, gush out, and show my love.
CLACK. What, Master Parson, are you there? You remember you promised to
win Joan for my own wearing?
SHO. I warrant thee, Clack, but now begone;
Leave me to work that here alone.
CLACK. Well, farewell, Master Shorthose; be true when you are trusted.
[_Exit_ CLACK.
SHO. She shall be neither his nor thine,
For I intend to make her mine.
GRIM. If I love thee, Joan! Those very words are a purgation to me.
You shall see desperation in my face, and death marching in my very
countenance. If I love!
SHO. What, Grim, hath grief drown'd thee at last?
Are all thy joys overcast?
Is Joan in place, and thou so sad!
Her presence, man, should make thee glad.
JOAN. Good Master Parson, 'twas no fault of mine;
He takes occasion, where there none was given.
I will not blab unto the world, my love
I owe to him, and shall do whilst I live. [_Aside_]
GRIM. Well, Joan, without all ifs or ands, e-persese, a-persese, or
tittle-tattles in the world, I do love thee; and so much that, in thy
absence I cry, when I see thee, and rejoice with my very heart, when
I cannot behold thee.
SHO. No doubt, no doubt, thou lov'st her well,
But listen now to what I tell:
Since ye are both so well agreed,
I wish you make more haste and speed.
To-morrow is Holy-rood day,
When all a-nutting take their way;
Within the wood a close doth stand,
Encompass'd round on either hand
With trees and bushes; there will I
Despatch your marriage presently.
GRIM. O Master Parson, your devising pate hath blessed me for ever.
Joan, we'll have that so: the shorter the work the sweeter.
JOAN. And if my mother give but her consent,
My absence shall in no case hinder it.
GRIM. She, quotha? she is mine already; we'll to her presently. Master
Parson, 'tis a match; we'll meet you. Now, miller, do I go beyond you?
I have stripped him of the wench, as a cook would strip an eel out of
her skin, or a pudding out of the case thereof. Now I talk of a pudding,
O, 'tis my only food, I am an old dog at it. Come, Joan, let us away,
I'll pudding you.
SHO. Well, if my fortune luckily ensue,
As you shall cosen him, I'll cosen you.
[_Exeunt_.
_Enter_ CASTILIANO _at one door with_ MARIAN, EARL LACY
_at another door with_ HONOREA.
CAS. Come, lovely Honorea, bright as day.
As came Alcmena from her sacred bed
With Jupiter, shap'd like Amphitrion,
So show my love.
HON. My love! whom have we here? Sweet
Musgrave! but, alas, I am betrayed!
CAS. Thou art my love.
LACY. No, mine.
HON. Nor yours, nor yours;
But Musgrave's love. O Musgrave! where art thou?
LACY. Be not displeas'd, my dear; give me thy hand.
HON. My hand, false earl! nor hand nor heart of mine!
Couldst thou thus cunningly deceive my hopes?
And could my father give consent thereto?
Well, neither he nor thou shalt force my love.
CAS. 'Tis I, fair Honorea, am thy love:
Forsake the worthless earl, give me thy hand.
MAR. Whose hand would you have, sir? this hand is mine,
And mine is yours: then keep you to your own:
Yet are you mine, sir, and I mean to keep you.
What! do you think to shake me off so soon?
No, gentle husband, now 'tis too-too late;
You should have look'd, before you came to bed.
_Enter_ ROBIN GOODFELLOW[448] _with his master's gown_.
ROB. Many good-morrows to my gentle master
And my new mistress; God give you both joy!
What say you to your gown, sir, this cold morning?
CAS. Robin, I am undone, and cast away!
ROB. How, master, cast away upon a wife?
CAS. Yea, Robin, cast away upon a wife.
ROB. Cast her away then, master, can you not?
MAR. No, sir, he cannot, nor he shall not do it.
ROB. Why, how know you? I am sure you are not she.
MAR. Yes, sir, I am your mistress, as it falls.
ROB. As it falls, quoth ye? marry, a foul fall is it.
MAR. Base rascal, dost thou say that I am foul?
ROB. No, it was foul play for him to fall upon you.
MAR. How know you that he fell? were you so nigh?
[_She giveth_ ROBIN _a box on the ear_.
ROB. Mass, it should seem it was he that fell, if any,
For you (methinks) are of a mounting nature:
What, at my ears at first? a good beginning.
LACY. My dear delight, why dost thou stain thy cheeks,
Those rosy beds, with this unseemly dew?
Shake off those tears, that now untimely fall,
And smile on me, that am thy summer's joy.
HON. Hapless am I to lose so sweet a prison,
Thus to obtain a weary liberty.
Happy had I been so to have remain'd,
Of which estate I ne'er should have complain'd.
ROB. Whoop, whoo! more marriages! and all of a sort. Happy are they,
I see, that live without them: if this be the beginning, what will be
the ending?
_Enter_ EARL MORGAN _and_ DUNSTAN.
MOR. Look, Dunstan, where they be; displeas'd, no doubt,
Try, if thou canst work reconciliation.
CAS. My lord, I challenge you of breach of promise,
And claim your daughter here to be my wife.
LACY. Your claim is nought, sir; she is mine already.
HON. Your claim is nought, sir; I am none of yours.
MAR. Your claim is here, sir; Marian is yours.
What, husband, newly married and inconstant!
'Greed we so well together all this night,
And must we now fall out? for shame, for shame!
A man of your years, and be so unstay'd!
Come, come away, there may no other be;
I will have you, therefore you shall have me.
ROB. This is the bravest country in the world,
Where men get wives, whether they will or no:
I trow ere long some wench will challenge me.
CAS. O, is not this a goodly consequence?
I must have her, because she will have me!
DUN. Ladies and gentlemen, hear Dunstan speak.
Marriage, no doubt, is ordain'd by providence;
Is sacred, not to be by vain affect
Turn'd to the idle humours of men's brains.
Besides, for you, my lady Honorea,
Your duty binds you to obey your father,
Who better knows what fits you than yourself;
And 'twere in you great folly to neglect
The earl's great love, whereof you are unworthy,
Should you but seem offended with the match.
Therefore submit yourself to make amends,
For 'tis your fault; so may you all be friends.
MOR. And, daughter, you must think what I have done
Was for your good, to wed you to the earl,
Who will maintain and love you royally:
For what had Musgrave but his idle shape?
A shadow to the substance you must build on.
ROB. She will build substance on him, I trow;
Who keeps a shrew against her will, had better let her go. [_Aside_.]
MAR. Madam, conceal your grief, and seem content;
For, as it is, you must be rul'd per force:
Dissemble, till convenient time may serve
To think on this despite and Musgrave's love. [_Aside_.]
LACY. Tell me, my dear, wilt thou at length be pleas'd?
HON. As good be pleas'd, my lord, as not be eas'd;
Yet though my former love did move me much,
Think not amiss, the same love may be yours.
CAS. What! is it a match? nay then, since you agree,
I cannot mend myself, for aught I see;
And therefore 'tis as good to be content.
Come, lady, 'tis your lot to be my dame.
Lordings, adieu; God send you all good speed!
Some have their wives for pleasure, some for need.
LACY. Adieu, Castiliano: are we friends?
CAS. Yes, yes, my lord, there is no remedy.
ROB. No remedy, my masters, for a wife?
A note for young beginners: mark it well.
[_Exeunt_.
_Enter_ FORREST, CAPTAIN CLINTON, HARVEY.
FOR. Now, gallants, what imagine you of this?
Our noses are all slit; for Mariana,
The Spanish doctor hath her to his wife,
And Musgrave's hopes are dead for Honorea,
For she is married to the Earl of Kent.
'Twill be good sport to see them when they rise.
If so they be not gotten up already.
CLIN. I say the devil go with them all for me.
The Spanish doctor marry Marian!
I think that slave was born to cross me still.
Had it not been last day before the earl,
Upon my conscience, I had crack'd his crown,
When first he ask'd the lady for his wife;
Now he hath got her too, whom I desir'd.
Why, he'll away with her ere long to Spain,
And keep her there to dispossess our hopes.
FOR. No, I can comfort you for that suppose:[449]
For yesterday he hir'd a dwelling-house,
And here he means to tarry all this year;
So long at least, whate'er he doth hereafter.
CLIN. A sudden plotform[450] comes into my mind,
And this it is. Miles Forrest, thou and I
Are partly well acquainted with the doctor.
Ralph Harvey shall along with us to him;
Him we'll prefer for his apothecary?
Now, sir, when Ralph and he are once acquainted,
His wife may often come unto his house,
Either to see his garden, or such like:
For, doubt not, women will have means enough,
If they be willing, as I hope she will.
There may we meet her, and let each one plead:
He that speeds best, why let him carry it.
FOR. I needs must laugh to think how all we three,
In the contriving of this feat, agree:
But, having got her, every man will strive
How each may other of her love deprive.
CLIN. Tut, Forrest! love admits these friendly strifes;
But say, how like you of my late device?
FOR. Surpassing well, but let's about it straight,
Lest he before our coming be provided.
CLIN. Agreed.
[_Exeunt.
Enter_ MUSGRAVE _and_ MARIAN.
MUS. Tush, cousin! tell not me; but this device
Was long ago concluded 'twixt you two,
Which divers reasons move me to imagine:
And therefore these are toys to blind my eyes,
To make me think she only loved me,
And yet is married to another man.
MAR. Why, cousin Musgrave, are your eyes so blind
You cannot see the truth of that report?
Did you not know my lord was always bent,
Whatever came, to wed her to the earl?
And have you not, besides, heard the device
He us'd to marry her against her will?
Betray'd, poor soul, unto Earl Lacy's bed,
She thought she held young Musgrave in her arms!
Her morning tears might testify her thoughts;
Yet thou shalt see she loves thee more than him,
And thou shalt taste the sweets of her delights.
Meantime, my house shall be thy mansion
And thy abode, for thither will she come:
Use thou that opportunity, and try
Whether she lov'd thee, or did but dissemble.
MUS. If she continue kind to me hereafter,
I shall imagine well of her and you.
_Enter_ CASTILIANO.
CAS. Now, dame, in talk! what gentleman is this?
MAR. My cousin Musgrave, husband, comes to see you.
CAS. Musgrave, now, on my faith, heartily welcome.
Give me thy hand, my cousin and my friend,
My partner in the loss of Honorea;
We two must needs be friends: our fortune's like:
Marry, yet I am richer by a shrew.
MAR. 'Tis better to be a shrew, sir, than a sheep;[451]
You have no cause, I hope, yet to complain?
CAS. No, dame; for yet you know 'tis honeymoon.
What! we have scarcely settled our acquaintance.
MUS. I doubt not, cousin, but ye shall agree,
For she is mild enough, if she be pleas'd.
CAS. So is the devil, they say[452] [_aside_]: yea, cousin, yea,
My dear and I, I doubt not, shall agree.
_Enter_ ROBIN GOODFELLOW.
ROB. Sir, here be two or three gentlemen at the door
Would gladly speak a word with your worship.
_Enter_ CLINTON, FORREST, HARVEY.
[CAS.] They need no bidding, methinks: they can come alone!
CLIN. God save you, Signior Castiliano.
CAS. O captain, _come sta_?[453] welcome all, my friends!
FOR. Sir, we are come to bid God give you joy,
And see your house.
MAR. Welcome, gentlemen:
'Tis kindly done to come to see us here.
ROB. This kindness makes me fear my master's head:
Such hotspurs must have game, howe'er they get it.
CLIN. We have a suit to you, Castiliano.
CAS. What is it, sir? if it lies in me, 'tis done.
CLIN. Nay, but a trifle, sir, and that is:
This same young man, by trade apothecary,
Is willing to retain unto your cures.
CAS. Marry, with all my heart, and welcome too.
What may I call your name, my honest friend?
HAR. Ralph Harvey, sir; your neighbour here hard by.
The Golden Lion is my dwelling-place,
Where what you please shall be with care perform'd.
CAS. Gramercies, Harvey! welcome, all my friends!
Let's in, and handsel our new mansion-house
With a carousing round of Spanish wine.
Come, cousin Musgrave, you shall be my guest;
My dame, I trow, will welcome you herself.
MAR. No, boy, Lord Lacy's wife shall welcome thee.
ROB. So now the game begins, here's some cheer toward;
I must be skinker[454] then: let me alone;
They all shall want, ere Robin shall have none.
[_Exeunt omnes nisi_ CLINTON _and_ HARVEY.
CLIN. Sirrah Ralph Harvey, now the entry is made,
Thou only hast access without suspect.[455]
Be not forgetful of thy agent here;
Remember Clinton was the man that did it.
HAR. Why, captain, now you talk in jealousy.
Do not misconstrue my true-meaning heart.
CLIN. Ralph, I believe thee, and rely on thee.
Do not too long absent thee from the doctor:
Go in, carouse, and taint his Spanish brain;
I'll follow, and my Marian's health maintain.
HAR. Captain, you well advise me; I'll go in,
And for myself my love-suits I'll begin.
[_Exeunt_.
ACT III., SCENE I.
_Enter_ ROBIN GOODFELLOW _with his head broken_.
ROB. The devil himself take all such dames for me!
'Zounds, I had rather be in hell than here.
Nay, let him be his own man, if he list,
Robin means not to stay to be us'd thus.
The very first day, in her angry spleen,
Her nimble hand began to greet my ears
With such unkind salutes as I ne'er felt;
And since that time there hath not pass'd an hour,
Wherein she hath not either rail'd upon me,
Or laid her anger's load upon my limbs.
Even now (for no occasion in the world,
But as it pleas'd her ladyship to take it)
She gat me up a staff, and breaks my head.
But I'll no longer serve so curs'd a dame;
I'll run as far first as my legs will bear me.
What shall I do? to hell I dare not go,
Until my master's twelve months be expir'd,
And here to stay with Mistress Marian--
Better to be so long in purgatory.
Now, farewell, master! but, shrewd dame, fare-ill!
I'll leave you, though the devil is with you still.
[_Exit_ ROBIN.
_Enter_ MARIAN _alone, chafing_.
MAR. My heart still pants within; I am so chaf'd!
The rascal slave, my man, that sneaking rogue,
Had like to have undone us all for ever!
My cousin Musgrave is with Honorea,
Set in an arbour in the summer-garden;
And he, forsooth, must needs go in for herbs,
And told me further, that his master bad him:
But I laid hold upon my younker's pate,
And made the blood run down about his ears.
I trow, he shall ask me leave ere he go.
Now is my cousin master of his love,
The lady at one time reveng'd and pleas'd.
So speed they all that marry maids perforce!
_Enter_ CASTILIANO.
But here my husband comes.
CAS. What, dame, alone?
MAR. Yes, sir, this once--for want of company.
CAS. Why, where's my lady and my cousin Musgrave?
MAR. You may go look them both for aught I know.
CAS. What, are you angry, dame?
MAR. Yea, so it seems.
CAS. What is the cause, I prythee?
MAR. Why would you know?
CAS. That I might ease it, if it lay in me.
MAR. O, but it belongs not to your trade.
CAS. You know not that.
MAR. I know you love to prate, and so I leave you.
[_Exit_ MARIAN.
CAS. Well, go thy way: oft have I raked hell
To get a wife, yet never found her like.
Why this it is to marry with a shrew.
Yet if it be, as I presume it is,
There's but one thing offends both her and me;
And I am glad, if that be it offends her.
'Tis so, no doubt; I read it in her brow.
Lord Lacy shall with all my heart enjoy
Fair Honorea: Marian is mine;
Who, though she be a shrew, yet is she honest.
So is not Honorea, for even now,
Walking within my garden all alone,
She came with Musgrave, stealing closely by,
And follows him, that seeks to fly from her.
I spied this all unseen, and left them there.
But sure my dame hath some conceit thereof,
And therefore she is thus angry, honest soul!
Well, I'll straight hence unto my Lord of Kent,
And warn him watch his wife from these close meetings.
Well, Marian, thou liv'st yet free from blame.
Let ladies go; thou art the devil's dame.
[_Exit_ CASTILIANO.
_Enter the_ DEVIL, _like_ MUSGRAVE, _with_ HONOREA.
MUS. No, lady; let thy modest, virtuous life
Be always joined with thy comely shape,
For lust eclipseth nature's ornament.
HON. Young heady boy, think'st thou thou shalt recall
Thy long-made love, which thou so oft hast sworn,
Making my maiden thoughts to doat on thee?
MUS. With patience hear me, and, if what I say
Shall jump with reason,[456] then you'll pardon me.
The time hath been when my soul's liberty
Vow'd servitude unto that heavenly face,
Whilst both had equal liberty of choice;
But since the holy bond of marriage
Hath left me single, you a wedded wife,
Let me not be the third unlawfully
To do Earl Lacy so foul injury.
But now at last--
HON. I would that last
Might be thy last, thou monster of all men!
MUS. Hear me with patience.
HON. Cease: I'll hear no more!
'Tis my affection, and not reason, speaks:
Then, Musgrave, turn the hardness of thy heart,
And now at least incline thy love to mine.
MUS. Nay, now I see thou wilt not be reclaim'd.
Go and bestow this hot love on the earl;
Let not these loose affects thus scandalise
Your fair report. Go home, and learn to live
As chaste as Lucrece, madam. So I leave you.
[_She pulleth him back_.
HON. O, stay a little while, and hear my tongue
Speak my heart's words, which cannot choose but tell thee,
I hate the earl, only because I love thee. [_Exit_ MUSGRAVE.
Musgrave, return! hear, Honorea speaks!
Disdain hath left him wings to fly from me!
Sweet love, lend me thy wings to overtake him,
For I can stay him with kind dalliance!
All this is but the blindness of my fancy.
Recall thyself: let not thy honour bleed
With the foul wounds of infamy and shame.
My proper home shall call me home again,
Where my dear lord bewails, as much as I,
His too much love to her that loves not him.
Let none hereafter fix her maiden love
Too firm on any, lest she feel with me
Musgrave's revolt and his inconstancy.
[_Exit_.
_Enter_ FORREST, _with_ MARIAN.
FOR. Tut, I'll remember thee, and straight return:
But here's the doctor.
MAR. Where? Forrest, farewell!
I would not have him see me for a world.
FOR. Why? he is not here. Well, now I see you fear him.
MAR. Marry, beshrew thee for thy false alarm!
I fear him? no, I neither fear nor love him.
FOR. But where's my lady? She is gone home before,
And I must follow after. Marian, farewell.
MAR. I shall expect your coming.
FOR. Presently;
And nearest thou, Marian? nay, it shall be so--
[_He whispers in her ear_.
MAR. O Lord, sir, you are wed, I warrant you:
We'll laugh, be merry, and, it may be, kiss;
But if you look for more, you aim amiss.
FOR. Go to, go to! we'll talk of this anon.
[_Exit_ FORREST.
MAR. Well, go thy way, for the true-heartedst man
That liveth, and as full of honesty,
And yet as wanton as a pretty lamb.
He'll come again, for he hath lov'd me long,
And so have many more besides himself;
But I was coy and proud, as maids are wont,
Meaning to match beyond my mean estate:
Yet I have favour'd youths and youthful sports,
Although I durst not venture on the main;
But now it will not be so soon espied.
Maids cannot, but a wife a fault may hide.
_Enter_ NAN.
What, Nan!
NAN. Anon, forsooth.
MAR. Come hither, maid.
Here, take my keys, and fetch the galley-pot;
Bring a fair napkin and some fruit-dishes.
Despatch, and make all ready presently;
Miles Forrest will come straight to drink with me.
NAN. I will, forsooth. [_Exit_ NAN.
MAR. Why am I young, but to enjoy my years?
Why am I fair, but that I should be lov'd?
And why should I be lov'd, and not love others?
Tut, she is a fool that her affection smothers:
'Twas not for love I was the doctor's wife,
Nor did he love me, when he first was mine.
Tush, tush, this _wife_ is but an idle name!
I purpose now to try another game.
Art thou return'd so soon? O, 'tis well done.
_Enter_ NAN _with the banquet_.
And hear'st thou, Nan? when Forrest shall return,
If any happen to inquire for me,
Whether't be Captain Clinton or Ralph Harvey,
Call presently, and say, thy master's come;
So I'll send Forrest o'er the garden pale.
NAN. I will, forsooth.
MAR. Meantime, stay thou and make our banquet ready.
I'll to my closet, and be here again,
Before Miles Forrest shall come visit me.
[_Exit_ MARIAN.
NAN. I wonder what my mistress is about?
Somewhat she would not have my master know:
Whate'er it be, 'tis nothing unto me;
She's my good mistress, and I'll keep her counsel.
I have oft seen her kiss behind his back,
And laugh and toy, when he did little think it.
O, what a winking eye the wanton hath
To cosen him, even when he looks upon her!
But what have I to do with what she doth?
I'll taste her junkets since I am alone:
That which is good for them cannot hurt me.
Ay, marry, this is sweet! a cup of wine
Will not be hurtful for digestion.
[_She drinks_.]