A WOMAN KILLED
BY THOMAS HEYWOOD
| [DRAMATIS PERSONAE
| SIR FRANCIS
Brother to Mistress
| SIR CHARLES
| MASTER JOHN
| MASTER MALBY,
friend to Sir
|| Sheriff .
Keeper of Prison .
Sheriff's Officers, Serjeant, Huntsmen, Falconers,
Coachmen, Carters, Servants, Musicians.
| MASTER WENDOLL,
| MASTER CRANWELL.
| MASTER SHAFTON,
friend to Sir
| OLD MOUNTFORD,
Uncle to Sir Charles.
| MASTER SANDY.
|| MISTRESS ANNE
| MASTER RODER.
to Sir Charles
| MASTER TIDY,
Cousin to Sir
| Women Servants in Master
but like a
you what these preparations mean.
for no glorious state; our Muse is bent
barren subject, a bare scene.
Whose strength might boldly on your favours build;
| We could afford this
Our russet, tissue; drone, a honey-bee;
Our barren plot, a large and spacious field;
Our coarse fare, banquets; our thin water, wine;
Our poet's dull and earthy Muse, divine;
| Our brook, a sea;
bat's eyes, eagle's sight;
Our ravens, doves; our crow's black feathers, white.
But gentle thoughts, when they may give the foil,
Save them that yield, and spare where they may spoil.
MASTER WENDOLL, AND
Sir F. Some
there! None lead the
bride a dance?
Sir C. Yes, would
dance The Shaking of
But that's the dance her husband means to lead
Wen. That,'s not
dance that every man
By your leave, sister, — by your husband's
According to the ballad. 4
I should have said, — the hand that but this
Was given you in the church I'll borrow. —
This marriage music hoists me from the ground.
Frank. Ay, you
caper; you are light and
Marriage hath yok'd my heels; pray, then, par-
Sir F. I'll have
dance too, brother !
You are a happy man, Sir, and much joy
Succeed your marriage mirth: you have a wife
Both of the mind and body. First, her birth
| So qualified, and wit
Is noble, and her education such
As might become the daughter of a prince;
Her own tongue speaks all tongues, and her
|| Room in
Sheets, or The Dance of Death,
was a well-known ballad and dance
Can teach all strings to
From the shrill'st treble to the hoarsest base.
To end her many praises in one word,
She's Beauty and Perfection's eldest daughter,
Only found by yours, though many a heart hath
your virtues and
I should be jealous of your praise, Sir Charles.
Cran. He speaks no
than you approve.
Mal. Nor flatters he
gives to her her due.
Mrs. F. I would your
praise could find a fitter
Such as they be, if they my husband please,
| Than my imperfect
to speak on!
They suffice me now I am marrièd.
His sweet content is like a flattering glass,
To make my face seem fairer to mine eye;
Will blast the roses in my cheeks that grow.
| But the least wrinkle
his stormy brow
Sir F. A perfect
already, meek and
You that begin betimes thus must needs prove
How strangely the word husband fits your
Not married three hours since ! Sister, 't is
Pliant and duteous in your husband's love. —
Gramercies, brother! Wrought her to 't al-
'Sweet husband,' and a curtsey, the first day?
Mark this, mark this, you that are bachelors,
Mark this, against you marry, 2
this one phrase :
| And never took the
of honest man;
In a good time that man both wins and woos
That takes his wife down 3
in her wedding shoes.
Frank. Your sister
not after you, Sir
He got her in his age, when he grew civil.
| All his wild blood
father spent on you;
All his mad tricks were to his land entail'd,
And you are heir to all; your sister, she
Hath to her dower her mother's modesty.
Sir C. Lord, sir, in
a happy state live
This morning, which to many seems a burden,
Too heavy to bear, is unto you a pleasure.
This lady is no clog, as many are ;
She doth become you like a well-made suit,
Not like a thick coat of unseason'd frieze,
| In which the tailor
us'd all his art ;
Forc'd on your back in Summer. She 's no chain
To tie your neck, and curb you to the yoke ;
But she's a chain of gold to adorn your neck.
Methinks, are matches. There's equality
| You both adorn each
and your hands,
In this fair combination; you are both
Scholars, both young, both being descended
There's music in this sympathy ; it carries
Which God bestow on you from this first day
| Consort and
Until your dissolution, — that's for aye !
Sir F. We keep you
too long, good
If you be mist, the guests will doubt their wel-
Into the hall ; away! Go cheer your guests.
What ! Bride and bridegroom both withdrawn
And charge you with unkindness.
To prevent it,
I'll leave you here, to see the dance within.
Mrs. F. And
so will I.
To part you it
were sin. —
Finger their frets 4
within, and the mad lads
| Now, gallants, while
And country lasses, every mother's child,
With nosegays and bride-laces 5
in their hats,
Dance all their country measures, rounds, and
What shall we do ? Hark! They're all on the
They toil like mill-horses, and turn as round, —
Marry, not on the toe! Ay, and they caper,
Not] 7 without cutting; you shall
The hall-floor peckt and dinted like a mill-
Made with their high shoes. Though their skill
Yet they tread heavy where their hobnails fall.
Sir F. Well, leave
their sports ! —
Sir Francis Acton,
I'll make a match with you! Meet me to-
At Chevy Chase; I'll fly my hawk with yours.
Sir F. For what? For
| Sir C.
Sir F. Pawn me some
Here are ten
I'll make them good a hundred pound to-mor-
Upon my hawk's wing.
'T is a match; 't is done.
Another hundred pound upon your dogs; —
Dare ye, Sir Charles?
I dare; were I sure
The first course for a hundred pound !
| I durst do more than
here is my hand,
Ten angels on Sir Francis Acton's
As much upon his dogs!
Cran. I'm for Sir
Mountford: I have
His hawk and dog both tried. What ! Clap ye
Or is't no bargain?
Yes, and stake them
Were they five hundred, they were all my own.
Sir F. Be stirring
with the lark tomorrow ;
|| Gained the
|| In preparation
|| Reduces her to
|| The points where
of a musical instru-
ment are stopped.
|| Gold coins worth
$2.50. [AJ Note: diff. amt. today]
|| Shake hands on
Rise from his bed.
| I'll rise into my
If there you miss
I am no gentleman! I'll hold my day.
Sir F. It holds on
sides. — Come, to-night
let's dance ;
We'd need be three hours up before the bride.
| Early to-morrow let 's
prepare to ride :
ROGER BRICKBAT, with Country
and two or three
Jen. Come, Nick,
Joan Miniver, to
trace withal ; Jack Slime, traverse you with
Cicely Milkpail ; I will take Jane Trubkin, and
Roger Brickbat shall have Isabel Motley. And
strike up ; we'll have a crash 2
here in the
| now that they are busy
the parlour, come,
Nich. My humour is
compendious : danc-
ing I possess not, though I can foot it; yet,
Milkpail, I consent.
| since I am fallen into
hands of Cicely
Slime. Truly, Nick,
we were never
brought up like serving courtiers, yet we have
been brought up with serving creatures, — ay,
brought up to serve sheep, oxen, horses, hogs,
| and God's creatures,
for we have been
and such like; and, though we be but country
fellows, it may be in the way of dancing we can
do the horse-trick as well as the serving-men.
| Brick. Ay, and
Jen. O Slime! O
not you know
that comparisons are odious? Now we are odi-
ous ourselves, too; therefore there are no com-
parisons to be made betwixt us.
I am quarrelsome, and not seditious;
| Nich. I am
and not superfluous;
I am peaceable, and not contentious;
I am brief, and not compendious.
Slime. Foot it
If the music over come
they suddenly do not strike up, I shall presently
| not my melancholy, I
quarrel; and if
strike thee down.
Jen. No quarrelling,
God's sake ! Truly,
if you do, I shall set a knave between ye.
Come, what shall it be? Rogero
| Slime. I come
dance, not to quarrel.
Jen. Rogero ? No ; we will
dance The Begin-
ning of the
Cicely. I love no
well as John come
Nich. I that have
deserv'd a cush-
ion, call for the Cushion-dance.
Brick. For my part,
nothing so well as
| Jen. No ; we
have The Hunting of the
Slime. The Hay, The Hay !
There's nothing like The Hay.
Nich. I have said, I
say, and I will say
Jen. Every man agree
have it as Nick says !
Nich. It hath been,
is, and it shall
| Cicely. What,
Nicholas ? What ?
Jen. So the dance
come cleanly off ! Come,
for God's sake, agree of something : if you like
not that, put it to the musicians ; or let me
| speak for all, and we
All. That, that,
Nich. No, I am
thus it shall be ;
First take hands, then take ye to your heels.
| Jen. Why,
have us run away ?
Nich. No; but I
you shake your
heels. — Music, strike up !
They dance ; NICK
and scurvily, the rest after
the country fashion.
Jen. Hey ! Lively,
lasses ! Here's a turn
for thee !
Wind horns. Enter
SIR CHARLES MOUNTFORD,
SIR FRANCIS ACTON,
WENDOLL, Falconer, and Huntsmen.
Sir F. So ; well
! Aloft, aloft ! Well
Oh, now she takes her at the souse, 5
Down to the earth, like a swift thunder-clap.
She hath struck ten angels out of my
| Sir F. A
pound from me.
Sir C. What,
Falc. At hand, sir !
Sir F. Now she hath
the fowl and 'gins
to plume 6
her not; rather stand still and check
So, seize her gets, 8
her jesses, 9
and her bells ! 10
Sir F. My hawk
Not at the mount like mine.
| Sir C.
Ay, but 't
was at the querre,
Cran. Yours mist her
the ferre. 11
Wen. Ay, but our
first had plum'd
And twice renew'd 12
her from the river too.
Her bells, Sir Francis, had not both one weight,
Nor was one semi-tune above the other.
Methinks, these Milan bells do sound too full,
And spoil the mounting of your hawk.
Sir F. I grant it
Mine likewise seiz'd a
Within her talons, and you saw her paws
|| Yard of the
|| Frolic, bout.
|| The names of the
here were all famil-
|| Chevy Chase.
|| On the descent.
|| Call back.
|| Verity explains
but apparently it is
the same as jesses.
|| Quarry : "the
bird." (N. E. D.)
|| Attacked afresh.
Full of the feathers; both
petty singles 1
Not of the fowl only; she did discomfit
And her long singles grip'd her more than
The terrials 2
of her 3
legs were stain'd with
Some of her feathers; but she brake away.
Come, come; your hawk is but a rifler. 4
Sir F. Ay, and your
are trindle-tails 5
You keep not one good hound in all your ken-
| Sir C.
You stir my
Nor one good hawk upon your perch.
Sir C. So, knight.
will not swagger, Sir ?
Sir F. Why, say I
As you have got by wagers on your dogs.
| I say you would gain
You will come short in all things.
in this !
Now I'll strike home.
[Strikes Sir Charles.]
Thou shalt to thy
Or I will want my will.
Sir F. All they that
Sir Francis, follow
Sir C. All that
Charles, draw on
my part !
Cran. On this side
goes my heart.
They divide themselves.
Huntsman ; and
hath the better, and
away, killing both of
all but SIR
Sir C. My God, what
done ! What
For whom we are to answer ! Well, 't is done,
have I done !
My rage hath plung'd into a sea of blood,
In which my soul lies drown'd. Poor inno-
And I remain the victor. A great conquest,
When I would give this right hand, nay, this
To breathe in them new life whom I have
slain ! —
Forgive me, God! 'T was in the heat of
And anger quite removes me from myself.
It was not I, but rage, did this vile murder ;
Yet I, and not my rage, must answer it.
Sir Francis Acton, he is fled the field ;
With him all those that did partake his quarrel ;
And in my height of conquest overcome.
| And I am left alone
Susan. O God ! My
the dead !
Unhappy jest, that in such earnest ends !
And I am come to know if you be wounded.
| The rumour of this
stretcht to my ears,
Sir F. Oh, sister,
! Wounded at the
Susan. My God forbid
Sir. C. In doing
thing which he for-
I am wounded, sister.
I hope, not
at the heart.
Sir C. Yes, at the
God! A surgeon,
Sir C. Call me a
sister, for my
The sin of murder, it hath pierc'd my heart
And made a wide wound there ; but for these
They are nothing, nothing.
Sir Francis hath great friends, and will pursue
have you done ?
Unto the utmost danger
6 of the law.
Sir C. My conscience
become mine enemy,
And will pursue me more than Acton can.
Susan. Oh ! Fly,
Why, Sue, art weary of my company?
| Sir C.
from thee ?
Susan. Fly from your
sister, are my
And flying you, I shall pursue my end.
Susan. Your company
Yet fly to save your life! What would I care
| Being far from you, no
comfort can be near.
To Spend my future age in black despair,
So you were safe ? And yet to live one week
Without my brother Charles, through every
My streaming tears would downwards run so
Till they could set on either side a bank,
And in the midst a channel; so my face
For two salt-water brooks shall still find place.
Sir C. Thou shalt
so much; for I
Or I'll not live at all. I will not sell
| In spite of danger's
I'll live with thee,
My country and my father's patrimony,
Nor thy sweet sight, for a vain hope of life.
Sir Charles, I am made the
I 'm sorry that the blood of innocent men
| Of your attach 8
Should be of you exacted. It was told me
That you were guarded with a troop of friends,
And therefore I come thus arm'd.
Master Sheriff !
| I came into the field
Terrial - the part of the foot touching the earth - i.e., bottoms of the feet ?*]
|| The rest of the
to refer to Mountford's
|| Limit of
But see, they all have left
Clings to my sad misfortune, my dear sister.
I know you for an honest gentleman ;
I yield my weapons, and submit to you.
Convey me where you please!
To answer for the lives of these dead men.
Susan. O God !
Of sorrow from your heart augments my pain ;
Your grief abounds, 1
and hits against my
Sher. Sir, will you
| Sir C.
Even where it
likes you best.
in a study.
Frank. How happy am
amongst other men,
That in my mean estate embrace content !
I am a gentleman, and by my birth
Companion with a king; a king's no more.
Sufficient to maintain a gentleman ;
| I am posses'd of many
Touching my mind, I am studied in all arts ;
The riches of my thoughts and of my time
Have been a good proficient; 2
but, the chief
I have a fair, a chaste, and loving wife, —
| Of all the sweet
Perfection all, all truth, all ornament.
If man on earth may truly happy be,
Of these at once possest, sure, I am he.
Nich. Sir, there's a
gentleman attends with-
To speak with you.
Frank. Entreat him
alight, I will attend
Know'st thou him, Nick?
It seems, he comes in haste: his horse is booted 3
And stain'd with plashing. Sure, he rid in
| Up to the flank in
himself all spotted
Or for a wager. Horse and man both sweat ;
I ne'er saw two in such a smoking heat.
Entreat him in:
about it instantly!
Hath pleas'd me much; by observation
|This Wendoll I have
and his carriage
I have noted many good deserts in him.
He's affable, and seen 4
in many things ;
Discourses well; a good companion ;
Of a good house, though somewhat prest by
| And though of small
yet a gentleman
I have preferr'd him to a second place
In my opinion and my best regard.
Mrs. F. Oh, Master
Frankford! Master Wen-
Brings you the strangest news that e'er you
Frank. What news,
wife? What news,
good Master Wendoll?
Wen. You knew the
made 'twixt Sir
And Sir Charles Mountford ?
Frank. True; with
hounds and hawks.
Wen. The matches
? And which won
Wen. Sir Francis,
wife's brother, had
And lost the wager.
Why, the worse
Perhaps the fortune of some other day
Will change his luck.
but you hear
At length the two knights grew to difference,
| Sir Francis lost, and
was loth to yield.
From words to blows, and so to banding sides ; 5
Where valorous Sir Charles slew, in his spleen,
Two of your brother's men, — his falconer,
And his good huntsman, whom he lov'd so
More men were wounded, no more slain out-
Frank, Now, trust
me, I am
sorry for the knight.
But is my brother safe ?
whole and sound,
His body not being blemish'd with one wound.
But poor Sir Charles is to the prison led,
To answer at th' assize for them that's dead.
Frank. I thank your
sir. Had the news
Your will was to have brought it, Master Wen-
Sir Charles will find hard friends; his case is
And will be most severely censur'd 6
I know you, sir, to be a gentleman
| I 'm sorry for him.
word with you !
In all things ; your possibilities 7
but mean :
Please you to use my table and my purse ;
They 're yours.
O Lord, sir ! I shall
ne'er deserve it.
Frank. O sir,
not your worth too
You are full of quality 8
and fair desert.
Choose of my men which shall attend on you,
And he is yours. I will allow you, sir,
Your man, your gelding, and your table, all
| At my own charge; be
have oft been
bound to you
By many favours ; this exceeds them all,
That I shall never merit your least favour ;
But when your last remembrance I forget,
| Heaven at my soul
weighty debt !
|| Have made good
|| Forming factions.
Frank. There needs
protestation; for I
Virtuous, and therefore grateful. — Prithee,
Use him with all thy loving'st courtesy !
Mrs. F. As far as
may well extend,
| It is my duty to
Frank. To dinner!
sir, from this pre-
Welcome to me for ever! Come, away !
Nich. I do not like
fellow by no means :
The devil and he are all one in mine eye.
I never see him but my heart still yearns. 1
Zounds ! I could fight with him, yet know not
Jen. O Nick ! What
gentleman is that comes
to lie at our house ? My master allows him one
to wait on him, and I believe it will fall to thy
Nich. I love my
by these hilts, I do ;
But rather than I'll ever come to serve him,
I'll turn away my master.
Cic. Nich'las !
you, Nich'las ? You
must come in, Nich'las, and help the young
|gentleman off with his
Nich. If I pluck off
boots, I'll eat the
And they shall stick fast in my throat like burrs.
Cic. Then, Jenkin,
My master hath given me a coat here, but he
|Jen. Nay,'t is
no boot 2 for me to deny it.
takes pains himself to brush it once or twice a
day with a holly wand.
Cic. Come, come,
haste, that you may
in dinner !
| wash your hands again,
help to serve
Jen. You may see, my
masters, though it be
afternoon with you,'t is yet but early days with
us, for we have not din'd yet. Stay but a little ;
course, and come to you again presently.
|I'll but go in and help
bear up the first
Enter MALBY and
Mal. This is the
sessions-day ; pray can you tell me
How young Sir Charles hath sped ? Is he acquit,
Or must he try the laws' strict penalty ?
Cran. He's clear'd
spite of his ene-
But in this suit of pardon he hath spent
| Whose earnest labour
take his life.
All the revenues that his father left him ;
And he is now turn'd a plain countryman,
Reform'd 4 in all things. See, sir, here
Keep. Discharge your
and you are then
Sir C. Here, Master
Keeper, take the poor remainder
Of all the wealth I have ! My heavy foes
Have made my purse light; but, alas I to me
'T is wealth enough that you have set me free.
I am glad to see you abroad, Sir Charles.
| Mal. God give
joy of your delivery !
Sir C. The poorest
in England, Mas-
My life has cost me all my patrimony
My father left his son. Well, God forgive them
| That are the authors
Shaft. Sir Charles !
hand, a hand ! At lib-
Now, by the faith I owe, I am glad to see it.
what want you ? Wherein may I pleasure you ?
Sir C. Oh me! Oh,
Whose hands may help me in this plunge of
| I am not worthy to
friends stirr'd up,
I would I were in Heaven, to inherit there
Th' immortal birthright which my Saviour
And by no unthrift can be bought and sold ;
For here on earth what pleasures should we
Shaft. To rid you
With your proud adversaries. Tush I let Frank
Three hundred pounds you shall receive of
Nay, five for fail. 5
Come, sir, the sight of gold
Is the most sweet receipt for melancholy,
And will revive your spirits. You shall hold
Wage, with his knighthood, like expense with
And he will sink, he will. — Nay, good Sir
Applaud your fortune and your fair escape
From all these perils.
Two thousand and five hundred pound a year
| Sir C.
Oh, sir !
they have undone me.
My father at his death possest me of ;
All which the envious Acton made me spend ;
And, notwithstanding all this large expense,
And I have only now a house of pleasure,
| I had much ado to gain
With some five hundred pounds reserv'd,
Both to maintain me and my loving sister.
Shaft. [Aside.] That must
I have, it lies con-
venient for me.
With my full hand I'll gripe him to the heart.
| If I can fasten but
finger on him,
'T is not for love I proffer'd him this coin,
But for my gain and pleasure. — Come, Sir
I know you have need of money; take my offer.
|| The Gaol.
|| To prevent
and remain indebted
Come, gentlemen, and see it tend'red down ! 2
| Even to the best of my
unable 1 power.
Wen. I am a villain,
But such a thought ! Then, to attempt the
Slave, thou art damn'd without redemption. —
A song ! Ha, ha ! A song ! As if, fond 5
| I 'll drive away this
passion with a song.
Thy eyes could swim in laughter, when thy
Lies drench'd and drowned in red tears of
I'll pray, and see if God within my heart
Plant better thoughts. Why, prayers are medi-
It is on her divine perfections.
| And when I meditate
forgive me !)
I will forget her; I will arm myself
Not t' entertain a thought of love to her ;
And, when I come by chance into her presence,
I'll hale these balls until my eye-strings
From being pull'd and drawn to look that way.
FRANKFORD, his Wife,
O God, O God! With what a
I'm hurried to mine own destruction !
There goest thou, the most perfectest man
And shall I wrong his bed ? —Thou God of
| That ever England bred
Stay, in Thy thoughts of vengeance and of
Thy great, almighty, and all-judging hand
From speedy execution on a villain, —
| A villain and a
Jen. Did your
Wen. He doth
he allows me
Money to spend.
Jen. By my faith, so
not you me: I cannot
My gelding, and my
Jen. That's Sorrel
Wen. This kindness
of no alliance 6
Jen. Nor is my
any great acquain-
Of a mere stranger, a poor gentleman,
| Wen. I never
me by desert.
A man by whom in no kind he could gain,
He hath plac'd me in the height of all his
Made me companion with the best and chiefest
Nor laugh without me; I am to his body
| In Yorkshire. He
As necessary as his digestion,
And equally do make him whole or sick.
And shall I wrong this man? Base man! In-
Hast thou the power, straight with thy gory
To rip thy image from his bleeding heart,
To scratch thy name from out the holy book
Of his remembrance, and to wound his name
That holds thy name so dear ? Or rend his
To whom thy heart was knit and join'd to-
And yet I must. Then Wendoll, be content!
Thus villains, when they would, cannot repent.
Jen. What a strange
is my new mas-
ter in ! Pray God he be not mad; if he should
him in Bedlam. It may be he's mad for miss-
| be so, I should never
any mind to serve
ing of me.
Wen. What, Jenkin!
your mistress ?
| Jen. Is your
Wen. Why dost thou
Jen. Because you are
master; and if I
have a mistress, I would be glad, like a good
servant, to do my duty to
| Wen. I mean
Jen. Marry, sir, her
husband is riding out of
town, and she went very lovingly to bring him
on his way to horse. Do you see, sir ? Here she
comes, and here I go.
| Wen. Vanish !
Mrs. F. You are well
sir ; now, in troth,
To do unto you his most kind commends, —
Before he took horse, had a great desire
To speak with you; we sought about the
Halloo'd into the fields, sent every way,
But could not meet you. Therefore, he enjoin'd
Nay, more: he wills you, as you prize his love,
Or hold in estimation his kind friendship,
To make bold in his absence, and command
For you must keep his table, use his servants,
| Even as himself were
in the house ;
And be a present Frankford in his absence.
I thank him for his love. —
[Aside.] Give me a name, you,
Are tipt with gall and poison: as you would
Murd'red your children, made your wives base
| Think on a man that
So call me, call me so; print in my face
The most stigmatic 7
title of a villain,
| For hatching treason
true a friend !
Mrs. F. Sir, you are
beholding to my
You are a man most dear in his regard.
Wen. I am bound unto
|| Paid over.
I will not speak to wrong
I will not; zounds! I will not. I may choose,
| Of that good
And I will choose. Shall I be so misled,
Or shall I purchase
1 to my father's crest
The motto of a villain ? If I say
What can compel me ? What sad destiny
| I will not do it, what
can enforce me ?
Hath such command upon my yielding
I will not ; — ha ! Some fury pricks me on ;
The swift fates drag me at their chariot
Injure myself, wrong her, deceive his trust!
| And hurry me to
Speak I must :
Mrs. F. Are you not
sir, that you seem
thus troubled ?
There is sedition in your countenance.
Wen. And in my
I love you! Start not, speak not, answer not;
I love you, — nay, let me speak the rest ;
Bid me to swear, and I will call to record
The host of Heaven.
The host of Heaven
Wendoll should hatch such a disloyal thought ?
Wen. Such is my fate
this suit was I
To wear rich pleasure's crown, or fortune's
My husband loves
Even as his brain, his eye-ball, or his heart.
I have tried it.
Mrs. F. His purse is
exchequer, and his
Doth freely serve you.
So I have found it.
Mrs. F. Oh ! With
face of brass, what
brow of steel,
Can you, unblushing, speak this to the face
It is my husband that maintains your state. —
| Of the espous'd wife
dear a friend ?
Will you dishonour him that in your power
Hath left his whole affairs ? I am his wife,
It is to me you speak.
O speak no more ;
For more than this I know, and have recorded
Fair, and of all belov'd, I was not fearful
| Within the red-leav'd
of my heart.
Bluntly to give my life into your hand,
And at, one hazard all my earthly means.
Go, tell your husband ; he will turn me off,
'T was for your sake. Perchance, in rage he'll
| And I am then undone.
not, I ;
kill me ;
I care not, 't was for you, Say I incur
The general name of villain through the world,
Of traitor to my friend; I care not, I.
Beggary, shame, death, scandal, and re-
For you I'll hazard all. Why, what care I ?
For you I'll live, and in your love I'll die.
Mrs. F. You move me,
to passion and to
The love I bear my husband is as precious
As my soul's health.
And for his love I will engage my life.
I love your husband too,
Mistake me not; the augmentation
Of my sincere affection borne to you
Doth no whit lessen my regard to him.
And not the light of one small glorious star
| I will be secret,
close as night ;
Shall shine here in my forehead, to bewray
That act of night.
shall I say ?
My soul is wandering, hath lost her way.
Oh, Master Wendoll ! Oh !
For every sigh you breathe draws from my
Sigh not, sweet
A drop of blood.
I ne'er offended
My fault, I fear, will in my brow be writ.
Women that fall, not quite bereft of grace,
I blush, and am asham'd. Oh, Master Wen-
| Have their offences
Pray God I be not born to curse your tongue,
That hath enchanted me! This maze I am
I fear will prove the labyrinth of sin.
Wen. The path of
and the gate to
Which on your lips I knock at with a kiss !
Nich. I 'll kill the
husband is from
home, your bed's
Nay, look not down and blush !
[Exeunt WENDOLL and
Zounds ! I'll stab.
I love my master, and I hate that slave ;
Ay, Nick, was it thy chance to come just in the
I love my mistress, but these tricks I like
My master shall not pocket up this wrong ;
I' ll eat my fingers first. What say'st thou,
That thou must cut off ? Hath he not ham-
| Does not that rascal
go on legs
That thou must hough ? Nay, metal, thou shalt
To all I say. I'll henceforth turn a spy,
And watch them in their close conveyances.2
Since he came miching 3
first into our house.
| I never look'd for
It is that Satan hath corrupted her ;
For she was fair and chaste. I'll have an
In all their gestures. Thus I think of them :
Wendoll's a knave, my mistress is a —
| If they proceed as
|| Acquire, add.
MOUNTFORD and Susan.
Sir C. Sister, you
are driven to hard shift
To keep this poor house we have left unsold.
I 'm now enforc'd to follow husbandry,
And you to milk ; and do we not live well ?
Well, I thank God.
Since old Sir Charles died in our father's house.
Oh, brother !
here's a change,
Sir C. All things on
some up, some down ;
Content's a kingdom, and I wear that crown.
Shaft. Good morrow,
morrow, Sir Charles !
What ! With your sister,
Plying your husbandry ? — Sergeant, stand off !—
You have a pretty house here, and a garden,
And goodly ground about it. Since it lies
So near a lordship that I lately bought,
I would fain buy it of you. I will give you ——
Sir C. Oh, pardon
Hath long'd to me and my progenitors
Three hundred years. My great-great-grand-
He in whom first our gentle style began,
Dwelt here, and in this ground increast this
Unto that mountain which my father left me.
I now the last will end, and keep this house, —
| Where he the first of
our house began,
This virgin title, never yet deflower'd
By any unthrift of the Mountfords' line.
Than you could hide or pave the ground withal.
| In brief, I will not
for more gold
Shaft. Ha, ha ! a
mind and a beggar's
Where's my three hundred pounds, besides the
use ? 2
By course of law. What! Is my money ready ?
| I have brought it to
and never tell me
You put my bond in suit? You deal extremely.3
Shaft. Sell me the
and I 'll acquit you straight.
Sir C. Alas, alas !
all trouble hath left
If this were sold, our names should then be
| To cherish me and my
Raz'd from' the bead-roll 4
You see what hard shift we have made to keep
Allied still to our name. This palm you see,
That never tasted a rough winter's blast
| Labour hath glow'd
her silver brow,
Without a mask or fan, doth with a grace
Defy cold winter, and his storms outface.
Susan. Sir, we feed
sparing, and we labour
And our succession this small spot of ground.
| We lie uneasy, to
Sir C. I have so
thoughts to hus-
That I protest I scarcely can remember
What a new fashion is; how silk or satin
A mere, mere stranger. I have quite forgot
| Feels in my hand. Why,
is grown to us
The names of all that ever waited on me.
I cannot name ye any of my hounds,
Once from whose echoing mouths I heard all
That e'er my heart desir'd. What should I
To keep this place, I have chang'd myself
Shaft. Arrest him at
suit ! — Actions and
Shall keep thee in perpetual bondage fast ;
Nay, more, I'll sue thee by a late appeal,
The keeper is my friend; thou shalt have irons,
| And call thy former
And usage such as I'll deny to dogs. —
Away with him !
You are too
But trouble is my master,
And I will serve him truly. — My kind sister,
The flinty man. Go to my father's brother,
| Thy tears are of no
My kinsmen, and allies; entreat them for me,
To transom me from this injurious man
That seeks my ruin.
I'll see thee lodg'd far from the sight of day.
Come away ;
Susan. My heart's so
hard'ned with the frost
Death cannot pierce it through. — Tyrant too
So lead the fiends condemned souls to hell.
FRANCIS ACTON and
Sir F. Again to
Malby, hast thou
A poor slave better tortur'd ? Shall we hear
The music of his voice cry from the grate, 6
Meat, for the Lord's sake ? No, no ; yet I am
Throughly reveng'd. They say, he hath a pretty
To him and to his kindred, bribe the fool
| Unto his sister ;
To shame herself by lewd, dishonest lust?
I'll proffer largely; but, the deed being done,
I'll smile to see her base confusion.
Mal. Methinks, Sir
Francis, you are full re-
For greater wrongs than he can proffer you.
See where the poor sad gentlewoman stands!
Sir F. Ha, ha ! Now
flout her poverty,
Deride her fortunes, scoff her base estate ;
But stay, my heart ! Oh, what a look did fly
| My very soul the name
|| Sir Charles
|| List. Properly a
names to be prayed for.
|| Ed. conj. tyrannous
|| Of the debtor's
To strike my soul through
I am enchanted ; all my spirits are fled.
And with one glance my envious spleen struck
Susan. Acton ! That
our blood !
| Sir F.
Mal. Sir Francis !
Sir Francis! Zounds,
in a trance?
Sir Francis ! What cheer, man? Come, come,
how is 't ?
Sir F. Was she not
Or else this judging eye
Cannot distinguish beauty.
was an angel in
a mortal's shape,
Or madman, whether ? But no! Master of
And ne'er descended from old Mountford's line.
But soft, soft, let me call my wits together!
A poor, poor wench, to my great adversary
Sister, whose very souls denounce stern war
One against other! How now, Frank, turn'd
My perfect senses and directest wits.
Then why should I be in this violent humour
Of passion and of love ? And with a person
In all contractions 1
and still-warring actions ?
| So different every
Fie, fie ! How I dispute against my soul!
Come, come; I'll gain her, or in her fair quest
Purchase my soul free and immortal rest.
Enter three or four
Serving-men, one with a voi-
and a wooden knife, to take away all ;
another the salt and bread; another with the
table-cloth and napkins; another the carpet; 4
JENKIN with two lights after them.
Jen. So ; march in
and retire in
battle array ! My master and the guests have
supp'd already ; all's taken away. Here, now
spread for the serving-men in the hall ! — But-
| ler, it belongs to
But. I know it,
What d' ye call the
gentleman that supp'd there to-night ?
Jen. Who? My master?
But. No, no ; Master
Wendoll, he's a daily
but this afternoon.
| guest. I mean the
light! Hark, within there; my master calls to
lay more billets 5
upon the fire. Come, come!
house are troubled! One spread the carpet in
| Lord, how we that are
office here in the
the parlour, and stand ready to snuff the lights;
the rest be ready to prepare their stomachs !
More lights in the hall, there ! Come, Nicholas.
Nich. I cannot eat;
had I Wendoll's
I would eat that. The rogue grows impudent,
Oh ! I have seen such vile, notorious tricks,
Ready to make my eyes dart from my head.
I'll tell my master; by this air, I will ;
Fall what may fall, I'll tell him. Here he
it were brushing
his clothes with a napkin, as
newly risen from supper.
you here? Why
are not you
At supper in the hall, among your fellows ?
Nich. Master, I
your rising from the
To speak with you.
Be brief then,
Why dost thou pause ? Now, Nicholas, you
| My wife and guests
me in the parlour.
And, unthrift-like, would eat into your wages
Ere you had earn'd it. Here, sir, 's half-a-crown ;
Play the good husband, 7
and away to supper !
Nich. By this hand,
Sir, I have serv'd you long ; you entertain'd me
man! I will not see him
Seven years before your beard; you knew me,
Before you knew my mistress.
Frank. What of this,
I have no fault but one — I'm given to quarrel,
| Nich. I
or a knave ;
But not with women. I will tell you, master,
That which will make your heart leap from
Your hair to startle from your head, your ears
this to dismal
Nich. 'Sblood ! sir,
love you better than
I'll make it good.
Frank. You are a
and I have much
With wonted patience to contain my rage,
I'll turn you, with your base comparisons,
| And not to break thy
Thou art a knave.
Out of my doors.
There is not room for Wendoll and me too,
Both in one house. O master, master,
That Wendoll is a villain !
strike; yet hear me !
I am no fool ;
I know a villain, when I see him act
Deeds of a villain. Master, master, the base slave
Enjoys my mistress, and dishonours you.
Frank. Thou hast
with a weapon,
Hath prick'd quite through and through my
Drops of cold sweat sit dangling on my hairs,
Like morning's dew upon the golden flowers,
|| Tray for
|| Small logs.
|| Maker of
And I am plung'd into
His credit, or her reputation,
What did'st thou say ? If any word that
It is as hard to enter my belief,
As Dives into heaven.
Nich. I can gain
They are two that never wrong'd me. I knew
As much as is my service, or my life
| 'T was but a thankless
office, and perhaps
Is worth. All this I know; but this, and
More by a thousand dangers, could not hire
To smother such a heinous wrong from you.
| I saw, and I have
Frank. 'T is
Though blunt, yet he
Though I durst pawn my life, and on their
Hazard the dear salvation of my soul,
Yet in my trust I may be too secure.
Is it by any wonder possible ?
| May this be true? Oh,
? Can it be ?
Man, woman, what thing mortal can we trust,
When friends and bosom wives prove so un-
just ? —
What instance 1
hast thou of this strange re-
| Nich. Eyes,
Frank. Thy eyes may
deceiv'd, I tell
For should an angel from the heavens drop
And preach this to me that thyself hast told,
He should have much ado to win belief ;
| In both their loves I
Nich. Shall I
the same by circum-
Frank. No more ! To
supper, and command
To attend us and the strangers ! Not a word,
I charge thee, on thy life ! Be secret then ;
Nich. I am dumb ;
that I have
eas'd my stomach, 2
I will go fill my stomach.
! Begone ! —
She is well born, descended nobly ;
Virtuous her education; her repute
Honest and fair; her carriage, her demeanour,
| Is in the general
all the country
In all her actions that concern the love
To me her husband, modest, chaste, and godly.
Is all this seeming gold plain copper ?
But he, that Judas that hath borne my purse,
Shall I put up these wrongs ? No ! Shall I
| Hath sold me for a
God ! O God !
The bare report of this suspicious groom,
Before the double-gilt, the well-hatch'd 3
Of their two hearts? No, I will lose these
Distraction I will banish from my brow,
And from my looks exile sad discontent.
Their wonted favours in my tongue shall
Till I know all, I'll nothing seem to know. —
Lights and a table there ! Wife, Master
And gentle Master Cranwell !
DOLL, MASTER CRANWELL,
JENKIN with cards, carpets, stools, and other
Frank. O ! Master
Cranwell, you are a
And often balk 4
my house; faith, y'are
churl ! —
Now we have supp'd, a table, and to cards!
Jen. A pair 5
of cards, Nicholas, and a carpet
counters and her box ? Candles and candlesticks,
| to cover the table!
Cicely, with her
there ! Fie ! We have such a household of ser-
ring-creatures! Unless it be Nick and I, there's
not one amongst them all that can say bo to a
They spread a carpet : set down
| goose. —
lights and cards.
Mrs. F. Come, Mr.
Frankford, who shall take
my part ? 7
| Frank. Marry,
will I, sweet wife.
Wen. No, by my
you are to-
gether, I sit out. It must be Mistress Frank-
ford and I, or else it is no match.
Frank. I do not like
Nigh. [Aside.] You have no
Frank. 'T is no
matter, neither. —
Come, Master Cranwell, shall you and I take
them up ? 8
| Cran. At your
Frank. I must look
for you'll be playing false. Nay, so will my wife, too.
Nich. [Aside.] Ay, I will
be sworn she will.
Mrs F. Let them that
taken playing false,
Frank. Content; it
go hard but I'll take
shall our game be ?
play best at
Frank. You shall not
it so; indeed, you
Mrs. F. I can play
nothing so well as
Frank. If Master
and my wife be
together, there's no playing against them at
Nich. I can tell
the game that Mas-
| ter Wendoll is best
Wen. What game is
Nich. Marry, sir,
out of doors.
Wen. She and I will
you at lodam.
Mrs. F. Husband,
play at saint ?
|| Of noble origin.
|| Well done.
|| Be my partner.
|| Be their
|| A game like
|| An earlier kind
Frank. [Aside.] My saint's
turn'd devil. —
You are best at new-cut, wife, you'll play at
No, we'll none of saint:
Wen. If you play at
new-cut, I'm soonest hit-
ter of any here, for a wager.
Frank. [Aside.] 'T is me
they play on. —
For all your cunning, 't will be to your shame;
Well, you may draw out;
I'll teach you, at your new-cut, a new game.
Cran. If you cannot
upon the game,
To post and pair!
When he comes late home, he must kiss the
| Wen. We shall
pairs; and my good
Frank. Whoever wins,
shall be to thy
Cran. Faith, let it
vide-ruff, and let 's
Frank. If you make
honours, one thing let
Honour the king and queen, except the
Wen. Well, as you
for that. — Lift, 2
who shall deal?
Mrs. F. The least in
sight. What are you,
Wen. I am a knave.
I a queen.
Frank. [Aside.] A quean,
thou should'st say.
— Well, the cards are mine:
| They are the grossest
e'er I felt.
would I had never
Frank. I have lost
Sir, the fault's in
This queen I have more than mine own, you see.
Give me the stock! 3
My mind's not on my
Many a deal I've lost; the more's your shame.
You have serv'd me a bad trick, Master Wen-
Wen. Sir, you must
your lot. To end
I know I have dealt better with your wife.
Frank. Thou hast
| Mrs. F. What's
Frank. [Aside.] Thou
robb'st me of my soul,
of her chaste love;
In thy false dealing thou hast robb'd my
Booty you play; I like a loser stand,
I will give o'er the set, I am not well.
| Having no heart, or
in my hand.
Come, who will hold my cards?
Mrs. F. Not well,
Alas, what ails you? 'T is some sudden qualm.
Wen. How long have
been so, Master
Frank. Sir, I was
and I had my
But I grew ill when you began to deal. —
Take hence this table! — Gentle Master Cran-
Y' are welcome; see your chamber at your
I cannot sit and bear you company. —
| I am sorry that this
takes me so,
Jenkin, some lights, and show him to his
Mrs. F. A nightgown
It is some rheum or cold.
Now, in good faith,
Without your gown.
| This illness you have
I know it, Master
Go, go to bed, lest you complain like me! —
Wife, prithee, wife, into my bed-chamber!
The night is raw and cold, and rheumatic.
Leave me my gown and light; I'll walk away
Wen. Sweet sir, good
Frank. Myself, good
Shall I attend
Frank. No, gentle
thou 'lt catch cold
in thy head.
Prithee, begone, sweet; I'll make haste to
Mrs. F. No sleep
fasten on mine eyes,
Until you come. [Exit. ]
Sweet Nan, I
prithee, go! —
At a set hour a letter shall be brought me,
I have bethought me; get me by degrees
The keys of all my doors, which I will mould
In wax, and take their fair impression,
To have by them new keys. This being com-
And when they think they may securely
They nearest are to danger. — Nick, I must
Upon thy trust and faithful secrecy.
Nich. Build on my
To bed, then, not
| Care lodges in my
grief in my breast.
Sister, OLD MOUNTFORD,
RODER, and TIDY.
Mount. You say my nephew is in great
Who brought it to him but his own lewd life?
I cannot spare a cross. I must confess,
He was my brother's son; why, niece, what
| This is no world in
Susan. I was not
beggar, though his
Enforce this language from me. I protest
No fortune of mine own could lead my tongue
To this base key. I do beseech you, uncle,
|| Be shut out.
|| This line should
given to Mrs. F. If
not, Cranwell exit here with Jenkin.
|| Old Mountford's
Nay, for God's sake, to pity his distress.
| For the name's sake,
He is deni'd the freedom of the prison,
And in the hole is laid with men condemn'd;
Plenty he hath of nothing but of irons,
| And it remains in you
free him thence.
Old Mount. Money I
should take heed.
He lost my kindred when he fell to need. Exit.
Susan. Gold is but
thou earth enough
When thou hast once took measure of thy grave,
| You know me, Master
and my suit.
Sandy. I knew you,
when the old man
I knew you ere your brother sold his land.
Then you were Mistress Sue, trick'd up in
Then you sung well, play'd sweetly on the lute;
| But now I neither know
nor your suit.
Susan. You, Master
was my brother's
Rent-free he plac'd you in that wealthy farm,
Of which you are possest.
True, he did;
And have I not there dwelt still for his sake?
I have some business now; but, without doubt,
They that have hurl'd him in, will help him
Susan. Cold comfort
What say you,
I say this comes of roysting, 1
I am no cousin unto them that borrow. Exit.
Call me not cousin; each man for himself!
Some men are born to mirth, and some to sor-
Susan. O Charity,
thou fled to
And left all things [up]on this earth uneven?
Their scoffing answers I will ne'er return,
| But to myself his
Sir F. She is poor,
therefore tempt her
with this gold.
Go, Malby, in my name deliver it,
And I will stay thy answer.
Mal. Fair mistress,
understand your grief
Doth grow from want, so I have here in store
Which to your hands I freely tender you.
| A means to furnish
Susan. I thank you,
Heavens! I thank you,
God make me able to requite this favour!
Mal. This gold Sir
Acton sends by
And prays you ——
Susan. Acton? O God!
name I'm born
Hence, bawd; hence, broker! See, I spurn his
My honour never shall for gain be sold.
Sir F. Stay, lady,
Even as the doves from feather'd eagles fly.
From you I'll
Sir F. She hates my
my face; how
should I woo?
I am disgrac'd in every thing I do.
The more she hates me, and disdains my love,
Of her divine and chaste perfections.
| The more I am rapt in
Woo her with gifts I cannot, for all gifts
Sent in my name she spurns; with looks I can-
For she abhors my sight; nor yet with letters,
For none she will receive. How then? how then?
As shall o'ercome her hate and conquer it.
| Well, I will fasten
kindness on her,
Sir Charles, her brother, lies in execution
For a great sum of money; and, besides,
The appeal is sued still for my huntsmen's
Which only I have power to reverse.
In her I'll bury all my hate of him. —
Go seek the Keeper, Malby, bring him to me!
To save his life, I his appeal will stay.
| To save his body, I
debts will pay;
feet bare, his garments all ragged
Sir F. Of
all on the
earth's face most miser-
Breathe in this hellish dungeon thy laments!
Thus like a slave ragg'd, like a felon gyv'd, —
That hurls thee headlong to this base estate.
Unthankful kinsmen! Mountford 's all too base,
| Oh, unkind uncle! Oh,
To let thy name be fetter'd in disgrace.
A thousand deaths here in this grave I die;
Fear, hunger, sorrow, cold, all threat my death,
But that which most torments me, my dear
| And join together to
to visit me, and from my friends
Hath brought no hopeful answer; therefore, I
Divine they will not help my misery.
Attend their covetous thoughts; need make
| If it be so, shame,
Usurers they live, and may they die like slaves!
Keep. Knight, be of
comfort, for I bring thee
From all thy troubles.
Then, I am doom'd
| Death is the end of
Keep. Live! Your
is stay'd; the execution
Of all your debts discharg'd; your creditors
Even to the utmost penny satisfied.
|| York Castle.
In sign whereof your
As for your fees; all is discharg'd; all paid.
| You are not left so
indebted to us
Go freely to your house, or where you please;
After long miseries, embrace your ease.
music to me
Or do my waking senses apprehend
| That ever organ
Is this a dream?
The pleasing taste of these applausive 1
Slave that I was, to wrong such honest friends,
Tongue, I will bite thee for the scandal breath'd
| My loving kinsman, and
Against such faithful kinsmen; they are all
Compos'd of pity and compassion,
Of melting charity and of moving ruth.
That which I spoke before was in my rage;
Bounteous and free. The noble Mountford's
| They are my friends,
mirrors of this age;
Ne'er bred a covetous thought, or humour base.
Susan. I cannot
stay from visiting
My woful brother. While I could, I kept
| My hapless tidings
I indebted to
And to thy travail!
Thou seest I
thanks to thy indus-
Oh! Unto which of all my friends
Even of an infant lov'd me; was it he?
| Am I thus bound? My
So did my cousin Tidy; was it he?
So Master Roder, Master Sandy, too.
Which of all these did this high kindness do?
Susan. Charles, can
mock me in your
Knowing your friends deride your misery?
Now, I protest I stand so much amaz'd,
To see your bonds free, and your irons knock'd
That I am rapt into a maze of wonder;
This happiness hath chanc'd.
| The rather for I know
Why, by my
My cousins, and my friends; who else, I pray,
Would take upon them all my debts to pay?
Susan. Oh, brother!
are men [made] all
As chased bears. I begg'd, I sued, I kneel'd,
| Pictures of marble,
void of pity
Laid open all your griefs and miseries,
Which they derided; more than that, deni'd us
A part in their alliance; but, in pride,
| Said that our kindred
our plenty died.
— what did they?
Oh, known evil!
Rich fly the poor, as good men shun the devil.
Whence should my freedom come? Of whom
Saving of those, have I deserv'd so well?
These have I rais'd, they follow the world's
| Guess, sister, call to
Whom rich [they] 3
honour, they in woe despise.
Susan. My wits have
ask the keeper!
me one demand!
What was he took the burden of my debts
From off my back, staid my appeal to death,
Discharg'd my fees, and brought me liberty?
Keep. A courteous
one call'd Sir
By Acton freed! Not all thy manacles
Than all my troubles! Hale me back,
Double my irons, and my sparing meals
Put into halves, and lodge me in a dungeon
More deep, more dark, more cold, more com-
Could fetter so my heels, as this one word
Hath thrall'd my heart; and it must now lie
In more strict prison than thy stony gaol.
| I am not free, I go
charge is done, sir, now I have my
As we get little, we will nothing leese. 4
Why, to what end? On what occasion? Ha!
And with indifference balance 5
this high fa-
| Let me forget the name
Susan. [Aside.] His
to me, upon my soul,
't is so!
That is the root from whence these strange
from my father, he
In offices of love, it had deserv'd
| That by the law of
My best employment to requite that grace.
From them this action had deserv'd my life, —
| Had it proceeded from
friends, or him,
And from a stranger more, because from such
There is less execution
of good deeds.
But he, nor father, nor ally, nor friend,
More than a stranger, both remote in blood,
That this high bounty should proceed from
| And in his heart
Oh! there I lose myself. What should I say,
What think, what do, his bounty to repay?
Susan. You wonder, I
sure, whence this
He dotes on me, and oft hath sent me gifts,
| Proceeds in Acton; I
will tell you, brother.
Letters, and tokens; I refus'd them all.
though poor: my heart
In one rich gift to pay back all my debt.
|| Too base in their
|| Ed. conj. Qq. in.
|| Verity emends to expectation.
NICHOLAS, with keys
and a letter in his hand.
Frank. This is the
that I must play my part,
To try two seeming angels. — Where 's my keys?
Nich. They are made
according to your
mould in wax.
I bade the smith be secret, gave him money,
| And here they are. The
Frank. True, take
there it is;
And when thou seest me in my pleasant'st vein,
Ready to sit to supper, bring it me!
Nich. I'll do 't;
more question, but
I'll do it.
Mrs. F. Sirrah,
Go bid them spread the cloth, and serve in
Jen. It shall be
Where's Spigot, the butler, to give us out salt
Wen. We that have
hunting all the day,
Come with prepared stomachs. — Master Frank-
We wish'd you at our sport.
Frank. My heart was
you, and my mind
'T is supper time at least an hour ago.
was on you. —
Fie, Master Cranwell! You are still thus sad. —
A stool, a stool! Where's Jenkin, and where's
What's the best news abroad?
I know none
Frank. [Aside.] But
too much bad.
JENKIN, with a
trenchers, and salt ; [then
Cran. Methinks, Sir,
might have that
In his hard dealing against poor Sir Charles,
| In your wife's
be more remiss 3
Who, as I hear, lies in York Castle, needy
And in great want.
Frank. Did not more
weighty business of
Betwixt them with all care; indeed I would,
| Hold me away, I would
Mrs. F. I'll write
In that behalf.
And will beget the good opinion
Of all your friends that love you, Mistress
Frank. That's you,
one; I know you
love Sir Charles,
[Aside.] And my wife too, well.
He deserves the
Of all true gentlemen; be yourselves judge!
Frank. But supper,
Now, as thou
Which I am sure thou dost, be merry, pleasant,
And frolic it to-night! — Sweet Mr. Cranwell,
Do you the like! — Wife, I protest, my heart
Was ne'er more bent on sweet alacrity.
Where be those lazy knaves to serve in supper?
Nich. Here's a
Frank. Whence comes
and who brought it?
Nich. A stripling
below attends your
And, as he tells me, it is sent from York.
Frank. Have him into
cellar, let him taste
A cup of our March beer; go, make him drink!
Nich. I'll make him
if he be a Tro-
letter.] My boots
and spurs! Where's Jenkin? God forgive
How I neglect my business! — Wife, look here!
I have a matter to be tri'd to-morrow
By eight o'clock; and my attorney writes me,
Or it will go against me. Where's my boots?
| I must be there
Mrs. F. I hope your
business craves no such
That you must ride to-night?
Frank. God's me! No
And the grey dapple for himself! — Content ye,
Jenkin, my boots! Where's Nick? Saddle my
It much concerns me. — Gentle Master Cran-
And Master Wendoll, in my absence use
The very ripest pleasure of my house!
Wen. Lord! Master
Frankford, will you ride
The ways are dangerous.
well; and so shall Nick, my man.
Mrs. F. I'll call
by five o'clock to-
Frank. No, by my
wife, I'll not trust
From one I love so dearly. No, by my faith,
| 'T is not such easy
in a morning
I shall not leave so sweet a bedfellow,
But with much pain. You have made me a
Since I first knew you.
Then, if you
Let me entreat you bear him company.
| This dangerous
Wen. With all my
sweet mistress. —
My boots, there!
Frank. Fie, fie,
my private business
I should disease6
a friend, and be a trouble
To the whole house! — Nick!
|| Influence with.
|| Less severe.
|| Good fellow.
|| Cause discomfort
Frank. Bring forth
gelding! — As you
love me, Sir,
Use no more words: a hand, good Master Cran-
Frank. Good night,
Nan; nay, nay, a
kiss, and part!
[Aside. ] Dissembling lips, you suit not with my
Wen. [Aside.] How
business, time, and hours,
all gracious prove,
And are the furtherers to my new-born love!
I am husband now in Master Frankford's place,
And must command the house. — My pleasure
But in your private chamber, Mistress Frank-
| We will not sup abroad
Mrs. F. Oh, Sir!
too public in your love,
And Master Frankford's wife ——
Might I crave
I would entreat you I might see my chamber.
And would be spar'd from supper.
| I am on the sudden
See you want nothing, sir, for if you do,
You injure that good man, and wrong me too.
Cran. I will make
good night! [Exit.]
Come, Nan, I pr'ythee, let us sup within!
| To make our bosom 1
sweet, and full entire!
Mrs. F. O !
unto the soul is sin!
Despise report, base scandals do outface,
We pale offenders are still full of fear;
Every suspicious eye brings danger near;
When they, whose clear hearts from offence
And stand at mere defiance with disgrace.
Wen. Fie, fie! You
too like a puritan.
Mrs. F. You have
me to mischief,
That which for want of wit I granted erst,
I have done I know not what. Well, you plead
I now must yield through fear. Come, come,
Once over shoes, we are straight o'er head in sin.
Wen. My jocund soul
joyful beyond meas-
I'll be profuse in Frankford's richest treasure.
Butler, and other Serv-
Jen. My mistress and
Master Wendoll, my
master, sup in her chamber to-night. Cicely,
you are preferr'd, from being the cook, to be
chambermaid. Of all the loves betwixt thee and
| me, tell me what thou
think'st of this?
Cic. Mum; there's an
proverb, — when
the cat's away, the mouse may play.
Jen. Now you talk of
cat, Cicely, I smell a
to answer them!
| Cic. Good
Jenkin, lest you be call'd
Jen. Why, God make
mistress an honest
woman! Are not these good words? Pray God
my new master play not the knave with my old
no villainy intended; and if they do sup to-
| master! Is there any
this? God send
gether, pray God they do not lie together! God
make my mistress chaste, and make us all His
servants! What harm is there in all this? Nay,
my heart, unless thou say, Amen.
| more; here in my hand,
shalt never have
Cic. Amen; I pray
mistress sends that you
should make less noise. So, lock up the doors,
Jenkin, for this night are made the porter, to
| and see the household
got to bed! You,
see the gates shut in.
Jen. Thus by
little I creep into
office. Come, to kennel, my masters, to kennel;
| 't is eleven o'clock
you have lock'd the gates
in, you must send up the keys to my mistress.
Cic. Quickly, for
sake, Jenkin; for I
must carry them. I am neither pillow nor bol-
| ster, but I know more
Jen. To bed, good
to bed, good hon-
est serving-creatures; and let us sleep as snug
Frank. Soft, soft!
tied our geldings
to a tree,
Two flight-shot 4
off, lest by their thundering
They blab our coming back. Hear'st thou no
Nich. Hear? I hear
but the owl and
Frank. So; now my
hand points upon
And it is dead midnight. Where are my keys?
Nich. Here, sir.
Frank. This is the
that opes my outward
The place where sins in all their ripeness
This, the hall-door; this, the withdrawing-
But this, that door that's bawd unto my shame,
Fountain and spring of all my bleeding thoughts,
Where the most hallowed order and true knot
Of nuptial sanctity hath been profan'd.
It leads to my polluted bed-chamber,
Once my terrestrial heaven, now my earth's
But I forget myself; now to my gate!
Nich. It must ope
less noise than
Cripplegate, or your plot's dash'd.
|| Another part of
|| Outside the
Frank. So; reach me
dark lantern to the
Tread softly, softly!
I will walk on
hath surpris'd the
And this is the last door. Astonishment,
Fear, and amazement, beat upon my heart,
Oh, keep my eyes, you Heavens, before I enter,
| Even as a madman beats
From any sight that may transfix my soul;
Or, if there be so black a spectacle,
Oh, strike mine eyes stark blind; or if not so,
That I may keep this white and virgin hand
| Lend me such patience
digest my grief,
From any violent outrage, or red murder! —
And with that prayer I enter.
Nich. Here's a
I would have plac'd his action, 3
A man may be made cuckold in the time
That he's about it. An the case were mine,
As't is my master's, 'sblood! (that he makes me
I would, I would!
Frank. Oh me
have found them
But that I would not damn two precious souls,
| Close in each other's
and fast asleep.
Bought with my Saviour's blood, and send them,
With all their scarlet sins upon their backs,
Unto a fearful judgment, their two lives
Had met upon my rapier.
Nich. Master, what,
you left them sleep-
Let me go wake 'em!
Stay, let me
Could, rising from the west, draw his coach
Oh, God! Oh, God! That it were possible
To undo things done; to call back yesterday;
That Time could turn up his swift sandy glass,
To untell 4
the days, and to redeem these hours!
Take from th' account of time so many minutes,
Till he had all these seasons call'd again,
Those minutes, and those actions done in them,
Even from her first offence; that I might take
As spotless as an angel in my arms!
But, oh! I talk of things impossible,
And cast beyond the moon. God give me
For I will in, and wake them.
He needs must trot afoot that tires his horse.
over the stage in a
FRANKFORD after him with his
drawn ; a maid
smock stays his
hand, and clasps hold on him. He pauses for a
thou, like the
Hast stay'd me from a bloody sacrifice. —
Go, villain; and my wrongs sit on thy soul
When thou record'st my many courtesies,
| As heavy as this grief
And shalt compare them with thy treacherous
Lay them together, weigh them equally, —
'T will be revenge enough. Go, to thy friend
Thee, Judas-like, hang'd on an elder-tree!
| A Judas; pray, pray,
live to see
night-gown, and night-attire.
Mrs. F. Oh, by what
what title, or
(Oh me, most wretched!) I have lost that name;
Shall I entreat your pardon? Pardon! Oh!
I am as far from hoping such sweet grace,
As Lucifer from Heaven. To call you hus-
I am no more your wife.
Frank. Spare thou
tears, for I will weep
And keep thy count'nance, for I'll blush for
For I am most asham'd; and 't is more hard
| Now, I protest, I
is I am tainted,
For me to look upon thy guilty face
Than on the sun's clear brow. What! Would'st
Mrs. F. I would I
tongue, no ears, no
When do you spurn me like a dog? When tread
| No apprehension, no
Under feet? When drag me by the hair?
Though I deserve a thousand, thousand fold,
More than you can inflict — yet, once my hus-
Though once an ornament — even for His sake,
| For womanhood, to
which I am
That hath redeem'd our souls, mark not my
Nor hack me with your sword; but let me go
Perfect and undeformed to my tomb!
In the least suit; no, not to speak to you,
| I am not worthy that I
Nor look on you, nor to be in your presence;
Yet, as an abject, 6
this one suit I crave; —
This granted, I am ready for my grave.
Frank. My God, with
patience arm me! —
And I'll debate with thee. Was it for want
|| The hall of the
that in the Qq. these scenes are continuous.
|| Established his
|| Count backwards.
Thou play'dst the strumpet?
thou not suppli'd
With every pleasure, fashion, and new toy, —
Nay, even beyond my calling? 1
Or in thine eye seem'd he a properer man?
| Frank. Was it,
disability in me;
Mrs. F. Oh,
Frank. Did I not
thee in my bosom?
Wear thee here in my heart?
Frank. I did,
witness my tears, I
Go, bring my infants hither! —
[Two Children are brought in.]
Oh, Nan! Oh, Nan!
The blemish of my house, nor my dear love,
| If neither fear of
regard of honour,
Could have withheld thee from so lewd a fact;
Yet for these infants, these young, harmless
On whose white brows thy shame is character'd,
And grows in greatness as they wax in years, —
Look but on them, and melt away in tears! —
Away with them; lest, as her spotted body
Hath stain'd their names with stripe of bas-
So her adulterous breath may blast their spirits
With her infectious thoughts! Away with
Mrs. F. In this one
I die ten thousand
Frank. Stand up,
I will do nothing
I will retire awhile into my study,
And thou shalt hear thy sentence presently.
Mrs. F. 'T is
it death. Oh me,
That, having such a husband, such sweet chil-
Must enjoy neither! Oh, to redeem mine hon-
I'd have this hand cut off, these my breasts
Nay, to whip but this scandal out, I'd hazard
| Be rack'd,
to any torment:
The rich and dear redemption of my soul!
He cannot be so base as to forgive me,
Nor I so shameless to accept his pardon.
Your holy matrimonial vow unstain'd,
| Oh, women, women, you
yet have kept
Make me your instance; when you tread awry,
Your sins, like mine, will on your conscience
the Serving-men, and
as newly come out of bed.
All. Oh, mistress,
mistress! What have you
Nich. 'Sblood, what
caterwauling keep you
Jen. O Lord,
comes this to
pass? My master is run away in his shirt, and
never so much as call'd me to bring his clothes
Mrs. F. See what
Here stand I in
Asham'd to look my servants in the face.
CRANWELL; whom see-
ing, she falls on her knees.
Frank. My words are
regist'red in Heaven al-
With patience hear me! I'll not martyr thee,
Nor mark thee for a strumpet; but with usage
And kill thee even with kindness.
| Of more humility
Frank. Good Master
Cranwell! — Woman,
hear thy judgment!
Take with thee all thy gowns, all thy apparel;
| Go make thee ready in
Leave nothing that did ever call thee mistress,
Or by whose sight, being left here in the house,
I may remember such a woman by.
Choose thee a bed and hangings for thy cham-
Take with thee every thing which hath thy
And get thee to my manor seven mile off,
Where live; — 't is thine; I freely give it thee.
My tenants by 2
shall furnish thee with wains
To carry all thy stuff within two hours;
Choose which of all my servants thou lik'st
| No longer will I limit
thee my sight.
And they are thine to attend thee.
Frank. But, as thou
for Heaven, as
Thy name's recorded in the book of life,
To see me, or to meet me; or to send,
| I charge thee never
this sad day
By word or writing, gift or otherwise,
To move me, by thyself, or by thy friends;
Nor challenge any part in my two children.
As we had never seen, ne'er more shall see.
| So farewell, Nan; for
will henceforth be
How full my
is, in mine eyes
What wants in words, I will supply in tears.
Frank, Come, take your coach, your stuff;
all must along.
It was thy hand cut two hearts out of one.
| Servants and all make
like, and his
Susan. Brother, why
you trick'd 5
like a bride,
Bought me this gay attire, these ornaments?
Forget you our estate, our poverty?
|| Before Sir
Call me not
brother, but imagine me
For if thou shutt'st thine eye, and only hear'st
| Some barbarous outlaw,
uncivil kern; 1
The words that I shall utter, thou shalt judge me
Some staring ruffian, not thy brother Charles.
Oh, sister! ——
Susan. Oh, brother!
doth this strange
Dost love me,
sister? Wouldst thou
see me live
A bankrupt beggar in the world's disgrace,
And die indebted to mine enemies?
Wouldst thou behold me stand like a huge beam
It lies in thee of these to acquit me free,
| In the world's eye, a
bye-word and a scorn?
And all my debt I may outstrip by thee.
Susan. By me?
I owe even for the clothes upon my back;
I am not worth ——
It lies in you my downcast state to raise;
| Sir C.
To make me stand on even points with the
Come, sister, you are rich; indeed you are,
And in your power you have, without delay
| Acton's five hundred
back to repay.
thought you lov'd me.
By my honour
(Which I have kept as spotless as the moon),
I ne'er was mistress of that single doit 2
Which I reserv'd not to supply your wants;
And do you think that I would hoard from
Now, by my hopes in Heaven, know I the
To buy you from the slavery of your debts
(Especially from Acton, whom I hate),
| I would redeem it with
life or blood!
and, kindred set apart,
Thus, ruffian-like, I lay siege to thy heart.
What do I owe to Acton?
Susan. Why, some
hundred pounds; to-
wards which, I
In all the world I have not one denier. 3
It will not
so. Sister, now re-
What do you think (and speak your conscience)
Would Acton give, might he enjoy your bed?
Susan. He would not
to spend a thou-
To give the Mountfords' name so deep a wound.
I but five hundred
Grant him your bed; he's paid with interest so.
Susan. Oh, brother!
Oh, sister I
this one way,
With that rich jewel you my debts may pay.
In speaking this my cold heart shakes with
But in a stranger's. Shall I die in debt
| Nor do I woo you in a
To Acton, my grand foe, and you still wear
The precious jewel that he holds so dear?
Susan. My honour I
as dear and pre-
As my redemption.
As dear, for so dear prizing it.
| Sir C.
Have me cut off my hands, and send them
Rip up my breast, and with my bleeding heart
Present him as a token?
Thy honour and my soul are equal in my re-
| But hear me in my
Nor will thy brother Charles survive thy shame.
His kindness, like a burden, hath surcharg'd
And under his good deeds I stooping go,
In prison still, there doubtless I had died.
| Not with an upright
Had I remain'd
Then, unto him that freed me from that
Still do I owe this life. What mov'd my foe
To enfranchise me? 'T was, sister, for your
With full five hundred pounds he bought your
And shall he not enjoy it? Shall the weight
Of all this heavy burden lean on me,
And will not you bear part? You did partake
The joy of my release; will you not stand
Shall I be only charg'd?
| In joint-bond bound to
satisfy the debt?
Than to be held ingrate, — I should condemn
These arguments come from an honour'd mind,
As in your most extremity of need
Scorning to stand in debt to one you hate, —
Nay, rather would engage your unsustain'd
I see your resolution, and assent;
So Charles will have me, and I am content.
For this I
|To save mine honour,
slice out my life.
I know thou
pleasest me a thousand
More in that resolution than thy grant. —
Observe her love; to soothe it to my suit,
Her honour she will hazard, though not lose;
Will pierce her heart, — O wonder! —
| To bring me out of
Rather than stain her blood, her life to lose.
Come, you sad sister to a woful brother,
This is the gate. I'll bear him such a present,
As will amaze his senses, and surprise
| Such an acquittance
knight to seal,
With admiration all his fantasies.
FRANCIS ACTON and
Susan. Before his
seize on me,
'T is here shall my imprison'd soul set free.
|| A Celtic
used in contempt.
|| A small coin.
|| Dressed finely.
Sir F. How!
his sister, hand
What miracle's afoot?
It is a sight
Begets in me much admiration.1
Sir C. Stand not
see me thus at-
Acton, I owe thee money, and, being unable
Lo! for thy more assurance, here's a pawn, —
| To bring thee the full
in ready coin,
My sister, my dear sister, whose chaste honour
I prize above a million. Here! Nay, take her;
She's worth your money, man; do not forsake
| Sir F. I would
were in earnest!
My brother, being rich in nothing else
But in his interest that he hath in me,
Me, all his store; whom, howsoe'er you prize,
| According to his
hath brought you.
As forfeit to your hand, he values highly,
And would not sell, but to acquit your debt,
For any emperor's ransom.
Stern heart, relent,
Thy former cruelty at length repent!
Such honourable, wrested courtesy?
| Was ever known, in any
Lands, honours, life, and all the world forego,
Rather than stand engag'd to such a foe!
Sir C. Acton, she is
poor to be thy bride,
There, take her to thee; if thou hast the heart
| And I too much oppos'd
To seize her as a rape, or lustful prey;
To blur our house, that never yet was stain'd;
To murder her that never meant thee harm;
To kill me now, whom once thou sav'dst from
Do them at once; on her all these rely,
And perish with her spotless chastity.
Sir F. You
your love, Sir
I cannot be so cruel to a lady
To engage your reputation to the world,
| I love so dearly.
have not spar'd
Your sister's honour, which you prize so dear,
Nay, all the comforts which you hold on earth,
To grow out of my debt, being your foe, —
Your honour'd thoughts, lo! thus I recompense.
In satisfaction of all former wrongs.
| Your metamorphos'd foe
receives your gift
This jewel I will wear here in my heart;
And where before I thought her, for her wants,
I seal you my dear brother, her my wife.
| Too base to be my
end all strife,
Susan. You still
us. I will yield to fate,
And learn to love, where I till now did hate.
Sir C. With that
enchantment you have
charm'd my soul
I pay no debt, but am indebted more;
| And made me rich even
those very words!
Rich in your love, I never can be poor.
Sir F. All's mine is
yours; we are alike in
Let's knit in love what was oppos'd in hate!
Come, for our nuptials we will straight provide,
| Blest only in our
and fair bride.
FRANKFORD, and NICHOLAS.
Cran. Why do you
each room about
Now that you have despatch'd your wife away?
Frank. Oh, sir! To
that nothing may be
That ever was my wife's. I lov'd her dearly;
My thoughts are all in hell; to avoid which tor-
| And when I do but
I would not have a bodkin or a cuff,
A bracelet, necklace, or rabato wire,3
Nor anything that ever was call'd hers,
Seek round about.
| Left me, by which I
remember her. —
Nich. 'Sblood !
here's her lute flung
in a corner.
Frank. Her lute! Oh,
Upon this in-
These frets have made me pleasant, 5 that have
Her fingers have rung quick division, 4
Sweeter than that which now divides our
Frets of my heart-strings made. Oh, Master
Oft hath she made this melancholy wood
(Now mute and dumb for her disastrous chance)
Speak sweetly many a note, sound many a
To her own ravishing voice; which being well
What pleasant strange airs have they jointly
Post with it after her! — Now nothing's left;
Of her and hers I am at once bereft.
Nich. I'll ride and
overtake her; do my
And come back again.
Meantime, sir, if
I'll to Sir Francis Acton, and inform him
Of what hath past betwixt you and his sister.
Frank. Do as you
How ill am I be-
| To be a widower ere my
her maid CICELY, her
Coachmen, and three
Mrs. F. Bid my coach
Why should I
ride in state,
Being hurl'd so low down by the hand of fate?
A seat like to my fortunes let me have, —
Earth for my chair, and for my bed a grave!
watered your coach with tears already. You
mistress; you have
have but two miles now to go to your manor.
|| Wire used to
|| Road near
A man cannot say by my old
as he may say by me, that he wants manors;
for he hath three or four, of which this is one
| that we are going to
Cic. Good mistress,
good cheer! Sorrow,
you see, hurts you, but helps you not; we all
mourn to see you so sad.
Carter. Mistress, I
one of my landlord's
Come riding post : 't is like he brings some news.
Mrs. F. Comes he
Master Frankford, he
So is his news, because they come from him.
Mrs. F. I know the
Oft have I sung to
We both are out of tune, both out of time.
Nich. Would that had
the worst instru-
ment that e'er you played on! My master com-
mends him to ye; there's all he can find was
ever yours; he hath nothing left that ever you
he could afford you that! All that I have to
| could lay claim to but
own heart, — and
deliver you is this: he prays you to forget him;
| and so he bids you
Mrs. F. I
kind, and ever was.
All you that have true feeling of my grief,
That know my loss, and have relenting hearts,
Gird me about, and help me with your tears
To wash my spotted sins! My lute shall groan;
| It cannot weep, but
lament my moan.
[She plays. ]
Wen. Pursu'd with
of a guilty soul,
And with the sharp scourge of repentance
I fly from mine own shadow. O my stars!
That you should lay this penance on their son?
| What have my parents
their lives deserv'd,
When I but think of Master Frankford's love,
And lay it to my treason, or compare
My murdering him for his relieving me,
It strikes a terror like a lightning's flash,
Asham'd of day, live in these shadowy woods,
| To scorch my blood up.
I, like the owl,
Afraid of every leaf or murmuring blast,
Yet longing to receive some perfect knowledge
How he hath dealt with her. [Seeing MISTRESS
FRANKFORD.] O my sad fate!
Here, and so far from home, and thus attended!
That ever liv'd together, and, being divided,
| Oh, God! I have
In several places make their several moan;
She in the fields laments, and he at home;
And stories to dance to his melodious harp,
| So poets write that
made the trees
Meaning the rustic and the barbarous hinds,
That had no understanding part in them:
So she from these rude carters tears extracts,
And draw down rivers from their rocky eyes.
| Making their flinty
with grief to rise,
Mrs. F. [to NICHOLAS]
If you return unto
Nay, you may say, too (for my vow is past),1
my master, say
(Though not from me, for I am all unworthy
To blast his name so with a strumpet's tongue)
That you have seen me weep, wish myself
Last night you saw me eat and drink my last.
This to your master you may say and swear;
For it is writ in heaven, and decreed here.
Nich. I'll say you
I'll swear you made
Why, how now, eyes? What now? What's
here to do?
I'm gone, or I shall straight turn baby too.
Wen. [Aside.] I cannot
weep, my heart is all
Curs'd be the fruits of my unchaste desire!
Mrs. F. Go, break
lute upon my coach's
As the last music that I e'er shall make, —
Not as my husband's gift, but my farewell
To all earth's joy; and so your master tell!
Nich. If I can for
| Or, like a madman, I
Mrs. F. You have
the wofull'st wretch
on earth, —
A woman made of tears; would you had words
To express but what you see! My inward grief
No tongue can utter; yet unto your power
To thy sad master my abundant woes.
| You may describe my
Nich. I'll do your
To name the name of mother: chide their
I dare not so presume; nor to my children!
I am disclaim'd in both; alas! I am.
Oh, never teach them, when they come to
If they by chance light on that hated word;
Tell them 't is naught; for when that word
Poor, pretty souls! they harp on their own
Wen. [Aside.] To
recompense their wrongs,
Thou hast made her husbandless, and childless
Mrs. F. I have
say. — Speak not
Yet you may tell your master what you see.
Wen. [Aside.] I'll speak
to her, and comfort
Oh, but her wound cannot be cur'd with words!
No matter, though; I'll do my best good will
To work a cure on her whom I did kill.
Mrs. F. So,
coach, then to my
I never will nor eat, nor drink, nor taste
| So to my death-bed;
this sad hour,
Of any cates 3 that may
preserve my life.
I never will nor smile, nor sleep, nor rest;
But when my tears have wash'd my black soul
Sweet Saviour, to thy hands I yield my sprite.
Wen. [coming forward.] Oh,
The devil doth come to tempt me, ere I die.
| Mrs F.
Oh, for God's
My coach! — This sin, that with an angel's
Conjur'd 1 mine honour,
till he sought my
| In my repentant eye
Exeunt all [except
Jen. What, my young
in his shirt! How come you by your clothes
again? You have made our house in a sweet
pickle, ha' ye not, think you? What, shall I
| serve you still, or
to the old house?
Wen. Hence, slave!
with thy unsea-
Unless thou canst shed tears, and sigh, and
Curse thy sad fortunes, and exclaim on fate,
Thou art not for my turn.
Jen. Marry, an you
not, another will;
never come to have kept this coil 2 within our
| farewell, and be
Would you had
doors! We shall ha' you run away like a sprite
Wen. She's gone to
I live to want
Her life, her sins, and all upon my head.
And I must now go wander, like a Cain,
In foreign countries and remoted climes,
Where the report of my ingratitude
And so to Germany and Italy;
| Cannot be heard.
over first to France,
Where, when I have recovered, and by travel
Gotten those perfect tongues, 3 and that these
May in their height abate, I will return:
My worth and parts being by some great man
| And I divine (however
At my return I may in court be rais'd. Exit.
MOUNTFORD, CRANWELL, [MALBY,]
Sir F. Brother, and
wife, I think
Fall on my head by justice of the heavens,
For being so strict to you in your extremi-
But we are now aton'd. I would my sister
As we have ours.
| Could with like
o'ercome her griefs
Susan. You tell us,
Touching the patience of that gentleman,
With what strange virtue he demeans 5
It was my fortune to lodge there that night.
|Cran. I told you
was a witness of;
F. Oh, that same villain, Wendoll!
'T was his tongue
That did corrupt her; she was of herself
Chaste and devoted well.6 Is this the house?
Cran. Yes, sir; I
here your sister
Sir F. My brother
Frankford show'd too
mild a spirit
In the revenge of such a loathed crime.
Less than he did, no man of spirit could do.
I am so far from blaming his revenge,
Their souls at once had from their breasts been
| That I commend
been my case,
Death to such deeds of shame is the due meed.
Jen. Oh, my
mistress! my poor mis-
shall I do for my poor mistress?
| Cicely. Alas!
ever I was born; what
Sir F. Why, what of
Jen. Oh, Lord, sir!
sooner heard that
her brother and her friends had come to see
guilty conscience, fell into such a swoon, that
| how she did, but she,
very shame of her
we had much ado to get life in her.
Susan. Alas, that
should bear so hard a
Pity it is repentance comes too late.
| Sir F.
Is she so
Jen. Oh, sir! I can
you there's no hope
of life in her; for she will take no sust'nance: she
hath plainly starv'd herself, and now she's as
lean as a lath. She ever looks for the good hour.
country are come to comfort her.
| Many gentlemen and
gentlewomen of the
CRANWELL, and SUSAN]
in her bed.
Mal. How fare you,
Mrs. F. Sick, sick,
sick! Give me some
air, I pray you!
Tell me, oh, tell me, where is Master Frankford?
Will not he deign to see me ere I die?
Mal. Yes, Mistress
Frankford; divers gentle-
Your loving neighbours, with that just request
Have mov'd, and told him of your weak estate: 9
Who, though with much ado to get belief,
Examining of the general circumstance,
And hearing therewithal the great desire
| Seeing your sorrow and
You have to see him, ere you left the world,
He gave to us his faith to follow us,
And sure he will be here immediately.
|| Made this
|| Acquired these
|| Before the Manor
|| The Manor House.
was really unchanged.
[Mrs. F. You have
reviv'd me with the
Raise me a little higher in my bed. —
Blush I not, brother Acton? Blush I not, Sir
Can you not read my fault writ in my cheek?
Is not my crime there? Tell me, gentlemen.
Sir C. Alas, good
mistress, sickness hath not
Blood in yore face enough to make you blush.
Mrs. F. Then,
like a friend, my
fault would hide. —
Is my husband come? My soul but tarries
His arrive; then I am fit for heaven.
Sir F. I came to
you, but my words of
Are turn'd to pity and compassionate grief.
I came to rate you, but my brawls, you see,
Melt into tears, and I must weep by thee. —
Here's Master Frankford now.
Frank. Good morrow,
God, that hath laid this cross upon our heads,
Might (had He pleas'd) have made our cause of
On a more fair and more contented ground;
But He that made us made us to this woe.
Mrs. F. And is he
Frank. How do you,
Mrs. F. Well, Master
Frankford, well; but
shall be better,
I hope within this hour. Will you vouchsafe,
Out of your grace and your humanity,
| To take a spotted
by the hand?
Frank. This hand
my heart in
Than now 't is gripp'd by me. God pardon
That made us first break hold!
Out of my zeal to Heaven, whither I'm now
And once more beg your pardon. O, good
| I was so impudent to
And father to my children, pardon me.
Pardon, oh, pardon me: my fault so heinous
That if you in this world forgive it not,
Faintness hath so usurp'd upon my knees,
| Heaven will not clear
the world to come.
That kneel I cannot; but on my heart's knees
My prostrate soul lies thrown down at your
To beg your gracious pardon. Pardon, oh, par-
Frank. As freely,
low depth of my
As my Redeemer hath forgiven His death,
I pardon thee. I will shed tears for thee;
pray with thee;
And, in mere pity of thy weak estate,
I'll wish to die with thee.
do we all.
will not I;
I'll sigh and sob, but, by my faith, not
Sir F. Oh, Master
Frankford, all the near
I lose by her, shall be suppli'd in thee.
You are my brother by the nearest way;
Her kindred hath fall'n off, but yours doth stay.
Frank. Even as I
pardon, at that
When the Great Judge of heaven in scarlet
So be thou pardon'd! Though thy rash of-
Divorc'd our bodies, thy repentant tears
Unite our souls.
Then rouse your spirits, and cheer your fainting
You see your husband hath forgiven your
Susan. How is it
How d'ye feel
Mrs. F. Not of this
Frank. I see you are
and I weep to see
Both those lost names I do restore thee back,
| My wife, the mother to
And with this kiss I wed thee once again.
Though thou art wounded in thy honour'd
And with that grief upon thy death-bed liest,
| Honest in heart, upon
soul, thou diest.
soul, thou in
heaven art free;
Once more thy wife, dies thus embracing
Oh! she's dead,
And a cold grave must be her nuptial bed.
Sir C. Sir, be of
comfort, and your
Part equally amongst us; storms divided
Abate their force, and with less rage are
Cran. Do, Master
Frankford; he that hath
Will find enough to drown one troubled heart.
Sir. F. Peace with
Nan! — Brothers
All we that can plead interest in her grief,
Bestow upon her body funeral tears!
Brother, had you with threats and usage bad
Punish'd her sin, the grief of her offence
Had not with such true sorrow touch'd her
Frank. I see it had
therefore, on her grave
Will I bestow this funeral epitaph,
Which on her marble tomb shall be engrav'd.
In golden letters shall these words be fill'd: 2
Here lies she whom her
husband's kindness kill'd.
|| Verity suggests, Once
more (i. e. Kiss me once
more); thy wife dies, etc.
|| Cut and filled in
disposed to be
'This wine was good; now 't runs too near the
Came to a tavern by, and call'd for wine.
The drawer brought it, smiling like a cherry,
And told them it
pleasant, neat 1 and
'Taste it,' quoth one. He did so. 'Fie!'
Another sipp'd, to give the
Thus, gentlemen, you see how, in one hour,
And said unto the
it drunk too flat ;
The third said, it was old; the fourth, too new ;
Nay, quoth the
the sharpness likes me
The wine was new, old, flat, sharp, sweet, and
Unto this wine we do allude 2 our play,
Which some will
too trivial, some too
And bid you
the best we have.
| You as our guests we
entertain this day,
Excuse us, then; good wine may be disgrac'd,
When every several mouth hath sundry taste.