1
A Woman Killed with Kindness
Thomas Heywood — EMOTHE0369_AWomanKilledWithKindness
[Dramatis Personae
Sir Francis Acton
brother to Mistress Anne Frankford
Charles Mountford
Master John Frankford
newly married to Mistress Anne
Master Malby
friend to Acton
Master Wendoll
}
Master Cranwell
}friends to Frankford
Master Shafton
false friend to Mountford
Old Mountford
uncle to Mountford
Master Sandy
Master Roder
Master Tidy
Nicholas
}
Jenkin
}
Spigot
the butler }
Roger Brickbat
}
Jack Slime
} servants to Frankford
Sheriff
Keeper of the prison
Mistress Anne Frankford
Susan Mountford
sister to Sir Charles
Cicely
maid to Mistress Anne
Falconers, huntsmen, officers, servants, musicians
All
I come but as a harbinger, being sent
1
To tell you what these preparations mean.
2
Look for no glorious state; our Muse is bent
3
Upon a barren subject, a bare scene.
4
We could afford this twig a timber tree,
5
Whose strength might boldly on your favours build;
6
Our russet, tissue; drone, a honey-bee;
7
Our barren plot, a large and spacious field;
8
Our coarse fare, banquets; our thin water, wine;
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Our brook, a sea; our bat’s eyes, eagle’s sight;
10
Our poet's full and earthly Muse, divine;
11
Our ravens, doves; our crow’s black feathers, white;
12
But gentle thoughts, when they may give the foil,
13
Save them that yield, and spare where they may spoil.
14
[Act I. Scene I]
([Frankford’s house])
(Enter Master John Frankford, Mistress Anne, Sir Francis Acton, Sir Charles Mountford, Master Malby, Master Wendoll, and Master Cranwell)
Francis
Some music there! None lead the bride a dance?
1
Charles
Yes, would she dance ‘The Shaking of the Sheets’,
2
But that’s a dance her husband means to lead her.
3
Wendoll
That’s not the dance that every man must dance,
4
According to the ballad.
5
Francis
Music, ho!
By your leave, sister; by your husband's leave,
6
I should have said. The hand that but this day
7
Was given you in the church I’ll borrow. Sound!
8
This marriage music hoists me from the ground.
9
Frankford
Ay, you may caper, you are light and free;
10
Marriage hath yok’d my heels; pray, pardon me.
11
Francis
I’ll have you dance too, brother.
12
Charles
Master Frankford,
Y’are a happy man, sir, and much joy
13
Succeed your marriage mirth. You have a wife
14
So qualified, and wit such ornaments
15
Both of mind and body; first, her birth
16
Is noble, and her education such
17
As might become the daughter of a prince;
18
Her own tongue speaks all tongues, and her own hand
19
Can reach all strings to speak in their best grace,
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From the shrill’st treble to the hoarsest bass.
21
To end her many praises in one word,
22
She’s Beauty and Perfection’s eldest daughter,
23
Only found by yours, though many a heart hath sought her.
24
Frankford
But that I know your virtues and chaste thoughts,
25
I should be jealous of your praise, Sir Charles.
26
Cranwell
He speaks no more than you approve.
27
Malby
Nor flatters he that gives to her her due.
28
Anne
I would your praise could find a fitter theme
29
Than my imperfect beauties to speak on;
30
Such as they be, if they my husband please,
31
They suffice me now I am married.
32
His sweet content is like a flatt’ring glass,
33
To make my face seem fairer to mine eye;
34
But the least wrinkle from his stormy brow
35
Will blast the roses in my cheeks that grow.
36
Francis
A perfect wife already, meek and patient.
37
How strangely the word husband fits your mouth,
38
Not married three hours since. Sister, ‘tis good;
39
You that begin betimes thus must needs prove
40
Pliant and duteous in your husband’s love.
41
Gramercies, brother! Wrought her to’t already?—
42
‘Sweet husband,’ and a curtsy the first day!
43
Mark this, mark this, you that are bachelors,
44
And never took the grace of honest man,
45
Mark this, against you marry, this one phrase:
46
In good time that man both wins and woos
47
That takes his wife down in her wedding shoes.
48
Frankford
Your sister takes not after you, Sir Francis;
49
All his wild blood your father spent on you;
50
He got her in his age, when he grew civil.
51
All his mad tricks were to his land entail’d,
52
And you are heir to all; your sister, she
53
Hath to her dower her mother’s modesty.
54
Charles
Lord, sir, in what a happy state live you!
55
This morning, which to many seems a burden,
56
Too heavy to bear, is unto you a pleasure.
57
This lady is no clog, as many are;
58
She doth become you like a well-made suit,
59
In which the tailor hath us’d all his art;
60
Not like a thick coat of unseason’d frieze,
61
Forc’d on your back in summer. She’s no chain
62
To tie your neck and curb ye to the yoke;
63
But she’s a chain of gold to adorn your neck;
64
You both adorn each other, and your hands,
65
Methinks, are matches. There’s equality
66
In this fair combination; y’are both scholars,
67
Both young, both being descended nobly.
68
There’s music in this sympathy; it carries
69
Consort and expectation of much joy,
70
Which God bestow on you from this first day
71
Until your dissolution—that’s for aye.
72
Francis
We keep you here too long, good brother Frankford.
73
Into the hall; away! Go cheer your guests.
74
What, bride and bridegroom both withdrawn at once?
75
If you be miss’d, the guests will doubt their welcome,
76
And charge you with unkindness.
77
Frankford
To prevent it,
I’ll leave you here, to see the dance within.
78
Anne
And so will I.
79
(Exeunt Anne and Frankford.)
Francis
To part you it were sin.
Now, gallants, while the town musicians
80
Finger their frets within, and the mad lads
81
And country lasses, every mother’s child,
82
With nosegays and bride-laces in their hats,
83
Dance all their country measures, rounds, and jigs,
84
What shall we do? Hark, they’re all on the hoigh;
85
They toil like mill-horses, and turn as round;
86
Marry, not on the toe. Ay, and they caper,
87
Not without cutting. You shall see tomorrow
88
The hall floor peck’d and dinted like a millstone,
89
Made by their high shoes; though their skill be small,
90
Yet they tread heavy where their hobnails fall.
91
Charles
Well, leave them to their sports. Sir Francis Acton,
92
I’ll make a match with you: Meet tomorrow
93
At Chevy Chase; I’ll fly my hawk with yours.
94
Francis
For what? For what?
95
Charles
Why, for a hundred pound.
Francis
Pawn me some gold of that.
96
Charles
Here are ten angels;
I’ll make them good a hundred pound tomorrow
97
Upon my hawk’s wing.
98
Francis
‘Tis a match, ‘tis done;
Another hundred pound upon your dogs—
99
Dare ye, Sir Charles?
100
Charles
I dare; were I sure to lose,
I durst do more than that. Here’s my hand:
101
The first course for a hundred pound.
102
Francis
A match.
Wendoll
Ten angels on Sir Francis Acton's hawk;
103
As much upon his dogs!
104
Cranwell
I am for Sir Charles Mountford; I have seen
105
His hawk and dog both tried. What, clap ye hands,
106
Or is’t no bargain?
107
Wendoll
Yes, and stake them down.
Were they five hundred, they were all my own.
108
Francis
Be stirring early with the lark tomorrow;
109
I’ll rise into my saddle ere the sun
110
Rise from his bed.
111
Charles
If there you miss me, say
I am no gentleman. I’ll hold my day.
112
Francis
It holds on all sides. Come, tonight let’s dance;
113
Early tomorrow let’s prepare to ride.
114
We had need be three hours up before the bride.
115
(Exeunt.)
[Act I. Scene 2]
([The yard at Frankford’s house])
(Enter Nick, Jenkin, Jack Slime, Roger Brickbat, Cicely, other country wenches, and two or three musicians)
Jenkin
Come, Nick, take you 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 now that they are busy in the parlour, come, strike up, we’ll have a crash here in the yard.
Nicholas
My humour is not compendious; dancing I possess not, though I can foot it; yet, since I am fallen into the hands of Cicely Milkpail, I consent.
Jack
Truly, Nick, though we were never brought up like serving courtiers, yet we have been brought up with serving creatures; ay, and God’s creatures too; for we have been brought up to serve sheep, oxen, horses, hogs, and suchlike; 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.
Roger
Ay, and the cross-point too.
Jenkin
Oh, Slime, oh, Brickbat, do you not know that comparisons are odious? Now we are odious ourselves too; therefore there are no comparisons to be made betwixt us.
Nicholas
I am sudden, and not superfluous;
19
I am quarrelsome, and not seditious;
20
I am peaceable, and not contentious;
21
I am brief, and not compendious.
22
Jack
Foot it quickly. If the music overcome not my melancholy, I shall quarrel; and if they suddenly do not strike up, I shall presently strike thee down.
Jenkin
No quarrelling, for God’s sake; truly, if you do, I shall set a knave between ye.
Jack
I come to dance, not to quarrel. Come, what shall it be? ‘Rogero’?
Jenkin
‘Rogero’? No; we will dance ‘The Beginning of the World’.
Cicely
I love no dance so well as ‘John, Come Kiss Me Now’.
Nicholas
I, that have ere now deserved a cushion, call for the Cushion dance.
Roger
For my part, I like nothing so well as ‘Tom Tyler’.
Jenkin
No; we’ll have ‘The Hunting of the Fox’.
Jack
‘The Hay’! ‘The Hay’! There’s nothing like ‘The Hay’!
Nicholas
I have said, do say, and will say again—
Jenkin
Every man agree to have it as Nick says.
All
Content.
Nicholas
It hath been, it now is, and it shall be—
Cicely
What, Master Nicholas, what?
Nicholas
‘Put on your Smock o’ Monday’.
Jenkin
So, the dance will 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’ll have ‘Sellenger’s Round’.
All
That, that, that!
Nicholas
No, I am resolved; thus it shall be.
50
First take hands, then take ye to your heels.
51
Jenkin
Why, would ye have us run away?
52
Nicholas
No; but I would have you shake your heels.
53
Music! Strike up!
54
(They dance; Nick, dancing, speaks stately and scurvily, the rest after the country fashion)
Jenkin
Jenkin Hey! Lively, my lasses, here’s a turn for thee!
55
(Exeunt.)
[Act I. Scene 3]
([Chevy Chase])
(Wind horns. Enter Sir Charles, Sir Francis, Malby, Cranwell, Wendoll, falconers, and huntsmen)
Charles
So, well cast off. Aloft, aloft! Well flown.
1
Oh, now she takes her at the souse, and strikes her
2
Down to the earth like a swift thunder-clap.
3
Wendoll
She hath struck ten angels out of my way.
4
Francis
A hundred pound from me.
5
Charles
What, falconer!
6
Falconer
At hand, sir.
7
Charles
Now she hath seiz’d the fowl and ‘gins to plume her,
8
Rebuke her not; rather stand still and cherk her.
9
So, seize her gets, her jesses, and her bells.
10
Away!
11
Francis
My hawk kill’d too.
12
Charles
Ay, but ‘twas at the querre,
Not at the mount, like mine.
13
Francis
Judgment, my masters.
Cranwell
Yours miss’d her at the ferre.
14
Wendoll
Ay, but our merlin first had plum’d the fowl,
15
And twice renew’d her from the river too.
16
Her bells, Sir Francis, had not both one weight,
17
Nor was one semi-tune above the other.
18
Methinks these Milan bells do sound too full,
19
And spoil the mounting of your hawk.
20
Charles
‘Tis lost.
Francis
I grant it not. Mine likewise seiz’d a fowl
21
Within her talons, and you saw her paws
22
Full of the feathers; both her petty singles
23
And her long singles grip’d her more than other.
24
The terrials of her legs were stain’d with blood,
25
Not of the fowl only; she did discomfit
26
Some of her feathers, but she brake away.
27
Come, come, your hawk is but a rifler.
28
Charles
How!
Francis
Ay, and your dogs are trindle-tails and curs.
29
Charles
You stir my blood!
30
You keep not one good hound in all your kennel,
31
Nor one good hawk upon your perch.
32
Francis
How, knight!
Charles
So, knight; you will not swagger, sir?
33
Francis
Why, say I did?
34
Charles
Why, sir,
I say you would gain as much by swagg’ring
35
As you have got by wagers on your dogs.
36
You will come short in all things.
37
Francis
Not in this.
Now I’ll strike home.
38
([Strikes Sir Charles.])
Charles
Thou shalt to thy long home,
Or I will want my will.
39
Francis
All they that love Sir Francis follow me!
40
Charles
All that affect Sir Charles draw on my part!
41
Cranwell
On this side heaves my hand.
42
Wendoll
Here goes my heart.
(They divide themselves. Sir Charles, Cranwell, his falconer and huntsman fight against Sir Francis, Wendoll, his falconer and huntsman; Sir Charles hath the better and beats them away, killing both of Sir Francis’s men.)
Charles
My God, what have I done? What have I done?
43
My rage hath plung’d into a sea of blood,
44
In which my soul lies drown’d. Poor innocents,
45
For whom we are to answer. Well, ‘tis done,
46
And I remain the victor. A great conquest,
47
When I would give this right hand—nay, this head—
48
To breathe in them new life whom I have slain.
49
Forgive me, God; ‘twas in the heat of blood,
50
And anger quite removes me from myself.
51
It was not I, but rage, did this vile murder;
52
Yet I, and not my rage, must answer it.
53
Sir Francis Acton, he is fled the field;
54
With him all those that did partake his quarrel,
55
And I am left alone, with sorrow dumb,
56
And in my height of conquest overcome.
57
(Enter Susan.)
Susan
O God! My brother wounded ‘mong the dead!
58
Unhappy jest, that in such earnest ends.
59
The rumour of this fear stretch’d to my ears,
60
And I am come to know if you be wounded.
61
Charles
Oh, sister, sister, wounded at the heart.
62
Susan
My God forbid!
63
Charles
In doing that thing which he forbad,
64
I am wounded, sister.
65
Susan
I hope not at the heart.
Charles
Yes, at the heart.
66
Susan
O God! A surgeon there!
Charles
Call me a surgeon, sister, for my soul;
67
The sin of murder, it hath pierced my heart
68
And made a wide wound there. But for these scratches,
69
They are nothing, nothing.
70
Susan
Charles, what have you done?
Sir Francis hath great friends, and will pursue you
71
Unto the utmost danger of the law.
72
Charles
My conscience is become mine enemy,
73
And will pursue me more than Acton can.
74
Susan
Oh, fly, sweet brother!
75
Charles
Shall I fly from thee?
Why, Sue, art weary of my company?
76
Susan
Fly from your foe.
77
Charles
You, sister, are my friend,
And flying you, I shall pursue my end.
78
Susan
Your company is as my eye-ball dear;
79
Being far from you, no comfort can be near;
80
Yet fly to save your life. What would I care
81
To spend my future age in black despair,
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So you were safe? And yet to live one week
83
Without my brother Charles, through every cheek
84
My streaming tears would downwards run so rank,
85
Till they could set on either side a bank,
86
And in the midst a channel; so my face
87
For two salt-water brooks shall still find place.
88
Charles
Thou shalt not weep so much, for I will stay,
89
In spite of danger’s teeth. I’ll live with thee,
90
Or I’ll not live at all. I will not sell
91
My country and my father’s patrimony,
92
Nor thy sweet sight, for a vain hope of life.
93
(Enter Sheriff, with officers)
Sheriff
Sir Charles, I am made the unwilling instrument
94
Of your attach and apprehension.
95
I’m sorry that the blood of innocent men
96
Should be of you exacted. It was told me
97
That you were guarded with a troop of friends,
98
And therefore [I] came thus arm’d.
99
Charles
Oh, Master Sheriff,
I came into the field with many friends,
100
But see, they all have left me; only one
101
Clings to my sad misfortune, my dear sister.
102
I know you for an honest gentleman;
103
I yield my weapons and submit to you.
104
Convey me where you please.
105
Sheriff
To prison then,
To answer for the lives of these dead men.
106
Susan
O God! O God!
107
Charles
Sweet sister, every strain
Of sorrow from your heart augments my pain;
108
Your grief abounds and hits against my breast.
109
Sheriff
Sir, will you go?
110
Charles
Even where it likes you best.
([Exeunt.])
[Act II. Scene 1]
([Frankford’s house])
(Enter Master Frankford in a study)
Frankford
How happy am I amongst other men,
1
That in my mean estate embrace content.
2
I am a gentleman, and by my birth
3
Companion with a king; a king’s no more.
4
I am posses’d of many fair revenues,
5
Sufficient to maintain a gentleman.
6
Touching my mind, I am studied in all arts,
7
The riches of my thoughts; and of my time
8
Have been a good proficient; but the chief
9
Of all the sweet felicities on earth,
10
I have a fair, a chaste, and loving wife;
11
Perfection all, all truth, all ornament.
12
If man on earth may truly happy be,
13
Of these at once possess’d, sure, I am he.
14
(Enter Nicholas)
Nicholas
Sir, there’s a gentleman attends without
15
To speak with you.
16
Frankford
On horseback?
Nicholas
Yes, on horseback.
Frankford
Entreat him to alight, and I’ll attend him.
17
Know’st thou him, Nick?
18
Nicholas
Know him? Yes; his name’s Wendoll.
19
It seems he comes in haste: his horse is booted
20
Up to the flank in mire, himself all spotted
21
And stain’d with plashing. Sure, he rid in fear,
22
Or for a wager. Horse and man both sweat;
23
I ne’er saw two in such a smoking heat.
24
Frankford
Entreat him in; about it instantly.
25
([Exit Nicholas.])
This Wendoll I have noted, and his carriage
26
Hath pleas’d me much; by observation
27
I have noted many good deserts in him.
28
He’s affable, and seen in many things,
29
Discourses well, a good companion;
30
And though of small means, yet a gentleman
31
Of a good house, somewhat press’d by want.
32
I have preferr’d him to a second place
33
In my opinion and my best regard.
34
(Enter Wendoll, Mistress Frankford, and Nick)
Anne
Oh, Master Frankford, Master Wendoll here
35
Brings you the strangest news that e’er you heard.
36
Frankford
What news, sweet wife? What news, good Master Wendoll?
37
Wendoll
You know the match made ‘twixt Sir Francis Acton
38
And Sir Charles Mountford?
39
Frankford
True; with their hounds and hawks.
Wendoll
The matches were both play’d.
40
Frankford
Ha! And which won?
Wendoll
Sir Francis, your wife’s brother, had the worst,
41
And lost the wager.
42
Frankford
Why, the worse his chance.
Perhaps the fortune of some other day
43
Will change his luck.
44
Wendoll
Oh, but you hear not all.
Sir Francis lost, and yet was loath to yield;
45
At length the two knights grew to difference,
46
From words to blows, and so to banding sides;
47
Where valorous Sir Charles slew, in his spleen,
48
Two of your brother’s men: his falconer,
49
And his good huntsman, whom he lov’d so well.
50
More men were wounded, no more slain outright.
51
Frankford
Now, trust me, I am sorry for the knight;
52
But is my brother safe?
53
Wendoll
All whole and sound,
His body not being blemish’d with one wound.
54
But poor Sir Charles is to the prison led,
55
To answer at th’assize for them that’s dead.
56
Frankford
I thank your pains, sir; had your news been better,
57
Your will was to have brought it, Master Wendoll.
58
Sir Charles will find hard friends; his case is heinous,
59
And will be most severely censur’d on;
60
I’m sorry for him. Sir, a word with you:
61
I know you, sir, to be a gentleman
62
In all things; your possibility but mean.
63
Please you to use my table and my purse;
64
They are yours.
65
Wendoll
O Lord, sir, I shall never deserve it!
Frankford
Oh, sir, disparage not your worth too much;
66
You are full of quality and fair desert.
67
Choose of my men which shall attend on you, sir,
68
And he is yours. I will allow you, sir,
69
Your man, your gelding, and your table, all
70
At mine own charge; be my companion.
71
Wendoll
Master Frankford, I have oft been bound to you
72
By many favours; this exceeds them all,
73
That I shall never merit your least favour.
74
But when your last remembrance I forget,
75
Heaven at my soul exact that weighty debt.
76
Frankford
There needs no protestation, for I know you
77
Virtuous, and therefore grateful. Prithee, Nan,
78
Use him with all thy loving’st courtesy.
79
Anne
As far as modesty may well extend,
80
It is my duty to receive your friend.
81
Frankford
To dinner. Come, sir, from this present day
82
Welcome to me for ever. Come, away!
83
(Exeunt Anne, Frankford, and Wendoll.)
Nicholas
I do not like this fellow by no means;
84
I never see him but my heart still earns.
85
Zounds! I could fight with him, yet know not why;
86
The devil and he are all one in mine eye.
87
(Enter Jenkin)
Jenkin
Oh, Nick, what gentleman is that that comes to lie at our house? My master allows him one to wait on him, and I believe it will fall to thy lot.
Nicholas
I love my master; by these hilts, I do;
91
But rather than I’ll ever come to serve him,
92
I’ll turn away my master.
93
(Enter Cicely)
Cicely
Nich’las, where are you, Nich’las? You must come in, Nich’las, and help the young gentleman off with his boots.
Nicholas
If I pluck off his boots, I’ll eat the spurs,
96
And they shall stick fast in my throat like burrs.
97
Cicely
Then, Jenkin, come you.
Jenkin
Nay, ‘tis no boot for me to deny it. My master hath given me a coat here, but he takes pains himself to brush it once or twice a day with a holly-wand.
Cicely
Come, come; make haste, that you may wash your hands again and help to serve in dinner.
Jenkin
You may see, my masters, though it be afternoon with you, ‘tis but early days with us, for we have not dined yet. Stay a little, I’ll but go in and help to bear up the first course, and come to you again presently.
(Exeunt.)
[Act II. Scene 2]
([The prison])
(Enter Malby and Cranwell)
Malby
This is the sessions day; pray, can you tell me
1
How young Sir Charles hath sped? Is he acquit,
2
Or must he try the law’s strict penalty?
3
Cranwell
He’s clear’d of all, spite of his enemies,
4
Whose earnest labour was to take his life;
5
But in this suit of pardon he hath spent
6
All the revenues that his father left him,
7
And he is now turn’d a plain countryman,
8
Reform’d in all things. See, sir, here he comes.
9
(Enter Sir Charles and his keeper)
Keeper
Discharge your fees, and you are then at freedom.
10
Charles
Here, Master Keeper, take the poor remainder
11
Of all the wealth I have; my heavy foes
12
Have made my purse light. But, alas, to me
13
‘Tis wealth enough that you have set me free.
14
Malby
God give you joy of your delivery!
15
I am glad to see you abroad, Sir Charles.
16
Charles
The poorest knight in England, Master Malby.
17
My life hath cost me all my patrimony
18
My father left his son. Well, God forgive them
19
That are the authors of my penury.
20
(Enter Shafton)
Shafton
Sir Charles, a hand, a hand! At liberty?
21
Now, by the faith I owe, I am glad to see it.
22
What want you? Wherein may I pleasure you?
23
Charles
O me, O most unhappy gentleman!
24
I am not worthy to have friends stirr’d up,
25
Whose hands may help me in this plunge of want.
26
I would I were in Heaven, to inherit there
27
Th’immortal birthright which my Saviour keeps,
28
And by no unthrift can be bought and sold;
29
For here on earth what pleasures should we trust?
30
Shafton
To rid you from these contemplations,
31
Three hundred pounds you shall receive of me;
32
Nay, five for fail. Come, sir, the sight of gold
33
Is the most sweet receipt for melancholy,
34
And will revive your spirits. You shall hold law
35
With your proud adversaries. Tush! Let Frank Acton
36
Wage, [with] his knighthood, like expense with me,
37
And ‘a will sink, he will. Nay, good Sir Charles,
38
Applaud your fortune and your fair escape
39
From all these perils.
40
Charles
Oh, sir, they have undone me.
Two thousand and five hundred pound a year
41
My father at his death possess’d me of;
42
All which the envious Acton made me spend;
43
And, notwithstanding all this large expense,
44
I had much ado to gain my liberty.
45
And I have only now a house of pleasure,
46
With some five hundred pounds reserv’d,
47
Both to maintain me and my loving sister.
48
Shafton
That must I have; it lies convenient for me.
49
If I can fasten but one finger on him,
50
With my full hand I’ll gripe him to the heart.
51
‘Tis not for love I proffer’d him this coin,
52
But for my gain and pleasure.
53
I know you have need of money; take my offer.
54
Charles
Sir, I accept it, and remain indebted
55
Even to the best of my unable power.
56
Come, gentlemen, and see it tend’red down.
57
([Exeunt.])
[Act II. Scene 3]
([Frankford’s house])
(Enter Wendoll, melancholy)
Wendoll
I am a villain if I apprehend
1
But such a thought! Then, to attempt the deed,
2
Slave, thou art damn’d without redemption.
3
I’ll drive away this passion with a song.
4
A song! Ha, ha! A song! As if, fond man,
5
Thy eyes could swim in laughter, when thy soul
6
Lies drench’d and drowned in red tears of blood.
7
I’ll pray, and see if God within my heart
8
Plant better thoughts. Why, prayers are meditations;
9
And when I meditate—O God, forgive me!—
10
It is on her divine perfections.
11
I will forget her; I will arm myself
12
Not t’entertain a thought of love to her,
13
And, when I come by chance into her presence,
14
I’ll hale these balls until my eye-strings crack,
15
From being pull’d and drawn to look that way.
16
(Enter, over the stage, Frankford, his wife, and Nick)
O God, O God! With what a violence
17
I’m hurried to mine own destruction!
18
There goest thou, the most perfect’st man
19
That ever England bred a gentleman;
20
And shall I wrong his bed? Thou God of thunder,
21
Stay, in Thy thoughts of vengeance and of wrath,
22
Thy great, almighty, and all-judging hand
23
From speedy execution on a villain;
24
A villain and a traitor to his friend!
25
(Enter Jenkin)
Jenkin
Did your worship call?
26
Wendoll
He doth maintain me; he allows me largely
27
Money to spend,—
28
Jenkin
By my faith, so do not you me; I cannot get a cross of you.
Wendoll
—My gelding, and my man;—
31
Jenkin
That’s Sorrel and I.
Wendoll
—This kindness grows of no alliance ‘twixt us.—
33
Jenkin
Nor is my service of any great acquaintance.
Wendoll
—I never bound him to me by desert.
35
Of a mere stranger, a poor gentleman,
36
A man by whom in no kind could he gain;
37
And he hath plac’d me in his highest thoughts,
38
Made me companion with the best and chiefest
39
In Yorkshire. He cannot eat without me,
40
Nor laugh without me. I am to his body
41
As necessary as his digestion,
42
And equally do make him whole or sick.
43
And shall I wrong this man? Base man! Ingrate!
44
Hast thou the power, straight with thy gory hands,
45
To rip thy image from his bleeding heart?
46
To scratch thy name from out the holy book
47
Of his remembrance, and to wound his name
48
That holds thy name so dear? Or rend his heart
49
To whom thy heart was knit and join’d together?
50
And yet I must. Then, Wendoll, be content.
51
Thus villains, when they would, cannot repent.
52
Jenkin
What a strange humour is my new master in! Pray God he be not mad; if he should be so, I should never have any mind to serve him in Bedlam. It may be he’s mad for missing of me.
Wendoll
What, Jenkin! Where’s your mistress?
Jenkin
Is your worship married?
Wendoll
Why dost thou ask?
Jenkin
Because you are my master, and if I have a mistress, I would be glad, like a good servant, to do my duty to her.
Wendoll
I mean Mistress Frankford.
Jenkin
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.
Wendoll
Vanish!
([Exit Jenkin.])
(Enter mistress Frankford)
Anne
Y’ are well met, sir. Now, in troth, my husband,
67
Before he took horse, had a great desire
68
To speak with you; we sought about the house,
69
Halloo’d into the fields, sent every way,
70
But could not meet you; therefore he enjoin’d me
71
To do unto you his most kind commends.
72
Nay, more; he wills you, as you prize his love,
73
Or hold in estimation his kind friendship,
74
To make bold in his absence, and command
75
Even as himself were present in the house.
76
For you must keep his table, use his servants,
77
And be a present Frankford in his absence.
78
Wendoll
I thank him for his love.
79
Give me a name, you whose infectious tongues
80
Are tipp’d with gall and poison. As you would
81
Think on a man that had your father slain,
82
Murd’red your children, made your wives base strumpets,
83
So call me, call me so; print in my face
84
The most stigmatic title of a villain,
85
For hatching treason to so true a friend.
86
Anne
Sir, you are much beholding to my husband;
87
You are a man most dear in his regard.
88
Wendoll
I am bound unto your husband, and you too.
89
I will not speak to wrong a gentleman
90
Of that good estimation, my kind friend;
91
I will not; zounds, I will not! I may choose,
92
And I will choose. Shall I be so misled,
93
Or shall I purchase to my father’s crest
94
The motto of a villain? If I say
95
I will not do it, what thing can enforce me?
96
What can compel me? What sad destiny
97
Hath such command upon my yielding thoughts?
98
I will not. Ha! Some fury pricks me on;
99
The swift Fates drag me at their chariot wheel,
100
And hurry me to mischief. Speak I must;
101
Injure myself, wrong her, deceive his trust.
102
Anne
Are you not well, sir, that ye seem thus troubled?
103
There is sedition in your countenance.
104
Wendoll
And in my heart, fair angel, chaste and wise.
105
I love you. Start not, speak not, answer not.
106
I love you. Nay, let me speak the rest.
107
Bid me to swear, and I will call to record
108
The host of Heaven.
109
Anne
The host of Heaven forbid
Wendoll should hatch such a disloyal thought.
110
Wendoll
Such is my fate. To this suit was I born,
111
To wear rich pleasure’s crown, or fortune’s scorn.
112
Anne
My husband loves you.
113
Wendoll
I know it.
Anne
He esteems you,
Even as his brain, his eye-ball, or his heart.
114
Wendoll
I have tried it.
115
Anne
His purse is your exchequer, and his table
116
Doth freely serve you.
117
Wendoll
So I have found it.
Anne
Oh, with what face of brass, what brow of steel,
118
Can you, unblushing, speak this to the face
119
Of the espous’d wife of so dear a friend?
120
It is my husband that maintains your state;
121
Will you dishonour him? I am his wife,
122
That in your power hath left his whole affairs;
123
It is to me you speak.
124
Wendoll
Oh, speak no more;
For more than this I know, and have recorded
125
Within the red-leav’d table of my heart.
126
Fair, and of all belov’d, I was not fearful
127
Bluntly to give my life into your hand,
128
And at one hazard all my earthly means.
129
Go, tell your husband; he will turn me off,
130
And I am then undone. I care not, I;
131
‘Twas for your sake. Perchance, in rage he’ll kill me;
132
I care not; ‘twas for you. Say I incur
133
The general name of villain through the world,
134
Of traitor to my friend; I care not, I.
135
Beggary, shame, death, scandal, and reproach,—
136
For you I’ll hazard all; why, what care I?
137
For you I’ll live, and in your love I’ll die.
138
Anne
You move me, sir, to passion and to pity.
139
The love I bear my husband is as precious
140
As my soul’s health.
141
Wendoll
I love your husband too,
And for his love I will engage my life.
142
Mistake me not; the augmentation
143
Of my sincere affection borne to you
144
Doth no whit lessen my regard of him.
145
I will be secret, lady, close as night;
146
And not the light of one small glorious star
147
Shall shine here in my forehead to bewray
148
That act of night.
149
Anne
What shall I say?
My soul is wand’ring and hath lost her way.
150
Oh, Master Wendoll, oh!
151
Wendoll
Sigh not, sweet saint;
For every sigh you breathe draws from my heart
152
A drop of blood.
153
Anne
I ne’er offended yet;
My fault, I fear, will in my brow be writ.
154
Women that fall, not quite bereft of grace,
155
Have their offences noted in their face.
156
I blush and am asham’d. Oh, Master Wendoll,
157
Pray God I be not born to curse your tongue,
158
That hath enchanted me. This maze I am in
159
I fear will prove the labyrinth of sin.
160
(Enter Nick [unseen])
Wendoll
The path of pleasure and the gate to bliss,
161
Which on your lips I knock at with a kiss.
162
Nicholas
I’ll kill the rogue.
Wendoll
Your husband is from home, your bed’s no blab;
164
Nay, look not down and blush.
165
(Exeunt Wendoll and Anne.)
Nicholas
Zounds, I’ll stab!
Ay, Nick, was it thy chance to come just in the nick?
166
I love my master, and I hate that slave;
167
I love my mistress, but these tricks I like not.
168
My master shall not pocket up this wrong,
169
I’ll eat my fingers first. What say’st thou, metal?
170
Does not that rascal Wendoll go on legs
171
That thou must cut off? Hath he not hamstrings
172
That thou must hough? Nay, metal, thou shalt stand
173
To all I say. I’ll henceforth turn a spy,
174
And watch them in their close conveyances.
175
I never look’d for better of that rascal,
176
Since he came miching first into our house.
177
It is that Satan hath corrupted her,
178
For she was fair and chaste. I’ll have an eye
179
In all their gestures. Thus I think of them,
180
If they proceed as they have done before:
181
Wendoll’s a knave, my mistress is a —.
182
(Exit.)
[Act III. Scene 1]
([Mountford’s house in the country])
(Enter Charles and Susan)
Charles
Sister, you see we are driven to hard shift,
1
To keep this poor house we have left unsold.
2
I am now enforc’d to follow husbandry,
3
And you to milk. And do we not live well?
4
Well, I thank God.
5
Susan
Oh, brother, here’s a change,
Since old Sir Charles died in our father’s house.
6
Charles
All things on earth thus change, some up, some down;
7
Content’s a kingdom, and I wear that crown.
8
(Enter Shafton, with a sergeant)
Shafton
Good morrow, morrow, Sir Charles. What, with your sister,
9
Plying your husbandry?—Sergeant, stand off.—
10
You have a pretty house here, and a garden,
11
And goodly ground about it. Since it lies
12
So near a lordship that I lately bought,
13
I would fain buy it of you. I will give you—
14
Charles
Oh, pardon me; this house successively
15
Hath long’d to me and my progenitors
16
Three hundred years. My great-great-grandfather,
17
He in whom first our gentle style began,
18
Dwelt here, and in this ground increas’d this mole-hill
19
Unto that mountain which my father left me.
20
Where he the first of all our house began,
21
I now the last will end, and keep this house,
22
This virgin title, never yet deflower’d
23
By any unthrift of the Mountfords’ line.
24
In brief, I will not sell it for more gold
25
Than you could hide or pave the ground withal.
26
Shafton
Ha, ha! A proud mind and a beggar’s purse.
27
Where’s my three hundred pounds, besides the use?
28
I have brought it to an execution
29
By course of law. What, is my monies ready?
30
Charles
An execution, sir, and never tell me
31
You put my bond in suit? You deal extremely.
32
Shafton
Sell me the land, and I’ll acquit you straight.
33
Charles
Alas, alas, ‘tis all trouble hath left me
34
To cherish me and my poor sister’s life.
35
If this were sold, our names should then be quite
36
Raz’d from the bead-roll of gentility.
37
You see what hard shift we have made to keep it
38
Allied still to our own name; this palm you see,
39
Labour hath glow’d within; her silver brow,
40
That never tasted a rough winter’s blast
41
Without a mask or fan, doth with a grace
42
Defy cold winter, and his storms outface.
43
Susan
Sir, we feed sparingly, and we labour hard;
44
We lie uneasy, to reserve to us
45
And our succession this small spot of ground.
46
Charles
I have so bent my thoughts to husbandry,
47
That I protest I scarcely can remember
48
What a new fashion is, how silk or satin
49
Feels in my hand. Why, pride is grown to us
50
A mere, mere stranger. I have quite forgot
51
The names of all that ever waited on me.
52
I cannot name ye any of my hounds,
53
Once from whose echoing mouths I heard all music
54
That e’er my heart desir’d. What should I say?
55
To keep this place, I have chang’d myself away.
56
Shafton
Arrest him at my suit. Actions and actions
57
Shall keep thee in continual bondage fast;
58
Nay, more, I’ll sue thee by a late appeal,
59
And call thy former life in question.
60
The keeper is my friend; thou shalt have irons,
61
And usage such as I’ll deny to dogs.
62
Away with him!
63
Charles
Ye are too timorous;
But trouble is my master,
64
And I will serve him truly. My kind sister,
65
Thy tears are of no force to mollify
66
This flinty man. Go to my father’s brother,
67
My kinsmen, and allies; entreat them for me,
68
To ransom me from this injurious man
69
That seeks my ruin.
70
Shafton
Come, irons, irons! Come away;
I’ll see thee lodg’d far from the sight of day.
71
([Exeunt Shafton, Charles, and sergeant.])
Susan
My heart’s so hard’ned with the frost of grief,
72
Death cannot pierce it through. Tyrant too fell!
73
So lead the fiends condemned souls to hell!
74
([Stands aside.])
(Enter Sir Francis Acton and Malby)
Francis
Again to prison! Malby, hast thou seen
75
A poor slave better tortur’d? Shall we hear
76
The music of his voice cry from the grate,
77
‘Meat, for the Lord’s sake’? No, no; yet I am not
78
Throughly reveng’d. They say he hath a pretty wench
79
To his sister; shall I, in my mercy-sake
80
To him and to his kindred, bribe the fool
81
To shame herself by lewd, dishonest lust?
82
I’ll proffer largely; but, the deed being done,
83
I’ll smile to see her base confusion.
84
Malby
Methinks, Sir Francis, you are full reveng’d
85
For greater wrongs than he can proffer you.
86
See where the poor sad gentlewoman stands.
87
Francis
Ha, ha! Now will I flout her poverty,
88
Deride her fortunes, scoff her base estate;
89
My very soul the name of Mountford hates.
90
But stay, my heart; oh, what a look did fly
91
To strike my soul through with thy piercing eye!
92
I am enchanted; all my spirits are fled,
93
And with one glance my envious spleen struck dead.
94
Susan
Acton that seeks our blood!
95
(Runs away.)
Francis
O chaste and fair!
Malby
Sir Francis! Why, Sir Francis! In a trance?
96
Sir Francis! What cheer, man? Come, come, how is’t?
97
Francis
Was she not fair? Or else this judging eye
98
Cannot distinguish beauty.
99
Malby
She was fair.
Francis
She was an angel in a mortal’s shape,
100
And ne’er descended from old Mountford’s line.
101
But soft, soft; let me call my wits together.
102
A poor, poor wench, to my great adversary
103
Sister, whose very souls denounce stern war
104
Each against other. How now, Frank? Turn’d fool
105
Or madman, whether? But no; master of
106
My perfect senses and directest wits.
107
Then why should I be in this violent humour
108
Of passion and of love? And with a person
109
So different every way, and so opposed
110
In all contractions and still-warring actions?
111
Fie, fie! How I dispute against my soul!
112
Come, come; I’ll gain her, or in her fair quest
113
Purchase my soul free and immortal rest.
114
([Exeunt.])
[Act III. Scene 2]
([Frankford’s house])
(Enter three or four serving-men, one with a voider and a wooden knife, to take away; another the salt and bread; another the tablecloth and napkins; another the carpet; Jenkin with two lights after them)
Jenkin
So; march in order, and retire in battle array. My master and the guests have supped already; all’s taken away. Here, now spread for the serving-men in the hall. Butler, it belongs to your office.
Spigot
I know it, Jenkin. What d’ye call the gentleman that supped there tonight?
Jenkin
Who, my master?
Spigot
No, no; Master Wendoll, he’s a daily guest. I mean the gentleman that came but this afternoon.
Jenkin
His name’s Master Cranwell. God’s light! Hark, within there! My master calls to lay more billets upon the fire. Come, come! Lord, how we that are in office here in thehouse are troubled! One spread the carpet in the parlour, and stand ready to snuff the lights; the rest be ready to prepare their stomachs. More lights in the hall there. Come, Nich’las.
(Exeunt, except Nicholas.)
Nicholas
I cannot eat; but, had I Wendoll’s heart,
16
I would eat that; the rogue grows impudent.
17
Oh, I have seen such vile, notorious tricks,
18
Ready to make my eyes dart from my head.
19
I’ll tell my master; by this air, I will;
20
Fall what may fall, I’ll tell him. Here he comes.
21
(Enter Master Frankford, as it were brushing the crumbs from his clothes with a napkin, as newly risen from supper)
Frankford
Nich’las, what make you here? Why are not you
22
At supper in the hall among your fellows?
23
Nicholas
Master, I stay’d your rising from the board,
24
To speak with you.
25
Frankford
Be brief then, gentle Nich’las;
My wife and guests attend me in the parlour.
26
Why dost thou pause? Now, Nich’las, you want money,
27
And, unthrift-like, would eat into your wages
28
Ere you had earn’d it; here, sir, ‘s half a crown;
29
Play the good husband, and away to supper.
30
Nicholas
By this hand, an honourable gentleman; I will not see him wronged.
Sir, I have serv’d you long; you entertain’d me
33
Seven years before your beard. You knew me, sir,
34
Before you knew my mistress.
35
Frankford
What of this, good Nich’las?
36
Nicholas
I never was a makebate or a knave;
37
I have no fault but one: I’m given to quarrel,
38
But not with women. I will tell you, master,
39
That which will make your heart leap from your breast,
40
Your hair to startle from your head, your ears to tingle.
41
Frankford
What preparation’s this to dismal news?
42
Nicholas
‘Sblood, sir, I love you better than your wife;
43
I’ll make it good.
44
Frankford
Y’are a knave, and I have much ado
45
With wonted patience to contain my rage,
46
And not to break thy pate. Th’art a knave;
47
I’ll turn you, with your base comparisons,
48
Out of my doors.
49
Nicholas
Do, do.
There is not room for Wendoll and me too,
50
Both in one house. Oh, master, master,
51
That Wendoll is a villain!
52
Frankford
[Strikes him.] Ay, saucy?
Nicholas
Strike, strike, do; strike! Yet hear me. I am no fool;
53
I know a villain, when I see him act
54
Deeds of a villain. Master, master, the base slave
55
Enjoys my mistress, and dishonours you!
56
Frankford
Thou hast kill’d me with a weapon whose sharp point
57
Hath prick’d quite through and through my shiv’ring heart.
58
Drops of cold sweat sit dangling on my hairs,
59
Like morning’s dew upon the golden flowers,
60
And I am plung’d into strange agonies.
61
What did’st thou say? If any word that touch’d
62
His credit or her reputation,
63
It is as hard to enter my belief
64
As Dives into Heaven.
65
Nicholas
I can gain nothing;
They are two that never wrong’d me. I knew before
66
‘Twas but a thankless office, and perhaps
67
As much as is my service, or my life
68
Is worth; all this I know. But this, and more,
69
More by a thousand dangers, could not hire me
70
To smother such a heinous wrong from you;
71
I saw, and I have said.
72
Frankford
‘Tis probable; though blunt, yet he is honest.
73
Though I durst pawn my life, and on their faith
74
Hazard the dear salvation of my soul,
75
Yet in my trust I may be too secure.
76
May this be true? Oh, may it? Can it be?
77
Is it by any wonder possible?
78
Man, woman, what thing mortal can we trust,
79
When friends and bosom wives prove so unjust?
80
What instance hast thou of this strange report?
81
Nicholas
Eyes, master, eyes.
82
Frankford
Thy eyes may be deceiv’d, I tell thee;
83
For should an angel from the heavens drop down,
84
And preach this to me that thyself hast told,
85
He should have much ado to win belief,
86
In both their loves I am so confident.
87
Nicholas
Shall I discourse the same by circumstance?
88
Frankford
No more. To supper, and command your fellows
89
To attend us and the strangers. Not a word,
90
I charge thee, on thy life. Be secret then,
91
For I know nothing.
92
Nicholas
I am dumb; and now that I have eas’d my stomach,
93
I will go fill my stomach.
94
(Exit.)
Frankford
Away, begone.
She is well born, descended nobly;
95
Virtuous her education; her repute
96
Is in the general voice of all the country
97
Honest and fair; her carriage, her demeanour,
98
In all her actions that concern the love
99
To me her husband, modest, chaste, and godly.
100
Is all this seeming gold plain copper?
101
But he, that Judas that hath borne my purse
102
And sold me for a sin! O God, O God!
103
Shall I put up these wrongs? No! Shall I trust
104
The bare report of this suspicious groom
105
Before the double-gilt, the well-hatch’d ore,
106
Of their two hearts? No! I will lose these thoughts;
107
Distraction I will banish from my brow,
108
And from my looks exile sad discontent.
109
Their wonted favours in my tongue shall flow;
110
Till I know all, I’ll nothing seem to know.
111
Lights and a table there! Wife, Master Wendoll,
112
And gentle Master Cranwell!
113
(Enter Mistress Frankford, Master Wendoll, Master Cranwell, Nick and Jenkin, with cards, carpets, stools and other necessaries)
Frankford
Oh, Master Cranwell, you are a stranger here,
114
And often balk my house; faith, y’are a churl.
115
Now we have supp’d, a table, and to cards!
116
Jenkin
A pair of cards, Nich’las, and a carpet to cover the table. Where’s Cicely, with her counters and her box? Candles and candlesticks there! Fie, we have such a household of serving creatures! Unless it be Nick and I, there’s not one amongst them all can say boo to a goose. Well said, Nick.
(They spread a carpet, set down lights and cards)
Anne
Come, Master Frankford, who shall take my part?
Frankford
Marry, that will I, sweet wife.
Wendoll
No, by my faith; when you are together I sit out. It must be Mistress Frankford and I, or else it is no match.
Frankford
I do not like that match.
Nicholas
You have no reason, marry, knowing all.
Frankford
‘Tis no great matter neither. Come, Master Cranwell, shall you and I take them up?
Cranwell
At your pleasure, sir.
Frankford
I must look to you, Master Wendoll, for you’ll be playing false; nay, so will my wife too.
Nicholas
I will be sworn she will.
Anne
Let them that are taken false, forfeit the set.
Frankford
Content; it shall go hard, but I’ll take you.
Cranwell
Gentlemen, what shall our game be?
Wendoll
Master Frankford, you play best at noddy.
Frankford
You shall not find it so; indeed you shall not.
Anne
I can play at nothing so well as double ruff.
Frankford
If Master Wendoll and my wife be together, there's no playing against them at double-hand.
Nicholas
I can tell you, sir, the game that Master Wendoll is best at.
Wendoll
What game is that, Nick?
Nicholas
Marry, sir, knave out of doors.
Wendoll
She and I will take you at loadum.
Anne
Husband, shall we play at saint?
Frankford
My saint’s turn’d devil
148
saint.
149
You are best at new-cut, wife; you’ll play at that.
150
Wendoll
If you play at new-cut, I’m soonest hitter of any here, for a wager.
Frankford
‘Tis me they play on.
153
out;
154
For all your cunning, ‘twill be to your shame;
155
I’ll teach you, at your new-cut, a new game.
156
Come, come!
157
Cranwell
If you cannot agree upon the game,
158
To post and pair.
159
Wendoll
We shall be soonest pairs, and my good host,
160
When he comes late home, he must kiss the post.
161
Frankford
Whoever wins, it shall be to thy cost.
162
Cranwell
Faith, let it be vide-ruff, and let’s make honours.
163
Frankford
If you make honours, one thing let me crave:
164
Honour the king and queen, except the knave.
165
Wendoll
Well, as you please for that. Lift who shall deal.
166
Anne
The least in sight. What are you, Master Wendoll?
167
Wendoll
I am a knave.
168
Nicholas
I’ll swear it.
Anne
I am queen.
Frankford
A quean, thou should’st say.
169
are mine;
170
They are the grossest pair that e’er I felt.
171
Anne
Shuffle; I’ll cut. Would I had never dealt.
172
Frankford
[Misdeals.] I have lost my dealing.
173
Wendoll
Sir, the fault’s in me;
This queen I have more than mine own, you see.
174
Give me the stock.
175
Frankford
My mind’s not on my game.
Many a deal I have lost, the more’s your shame.
176
You have serv’d me a bad trick, Master Wendoll.
177
Wendoll
Sir, you must take your lot. To end this strife,
178
I know I have dealt better with your wife.
179
Frankford
Thou hast dealt falsely then.
180
Anne
What’s trumps?
181
Wendoll
Hearts. Partner, I rub.
182
Frankford
Thou robb’st me of my soul, of her chaste love;
183
In thy false dealing thou hast robb’d my heart.
184
Booty you play; I like a loser stand.
185
Having no heart, or here or in my hand.
186
I will give o’er the set, I am not well.
187
Come, who will hold my cards?
188
Anne
Not well, sweet Master Frankford?
189
Alas, what ails you? ‘Tis some sudden qualm.
190
Wendoll
How long have you been so, Master Frankford?
191
Frankford
Sir, I was lusty, and I had my health,
192
But I grew ill when you began to deal.
193
Take hence this table. Gentle Master Cranwell,
194
Y’are welcome; see your chamber at your pleasure.
195
I am sorry that this megrim takes me so,
196
I cannot sit and bear you company.
197
Jenkin, some lights, and show him to his chamber!
198
([Exeunt Cranwell and Jenkin.])
Anne
A night-gown for my husband; quickly there!
199
It is some rheum or cold.
200
Wendoll
Now, in good faith,
This illness you have got by sitting late
201
Without your gown.
202
Frankford
I know it, Master Wendoll.
Go, go to bed, lest you complain like me.
203
Wife, prithee, wife, into my bed-chamber;
204
The night is raw and cold, and rheumatic.
205
Leave me my gown and light; I’ll walk away my fit.
206
Wendoll
Sweet sir, good night.
207
Frankford
Myself, good night.
([Exit Wendoll.])
Anne
Shall I attend you, husband?
208
Frankford
No, gentle wife, thou’lt catch cold in thy head;
209
Prithee, begone, sweet; I’ll make haste to bed.
210
Anne
No sleep will fasten on mine eyes, you know,
211
Until you come.
212
Frankford
Sweet Nan, I prithee, go.
(Exit Anne.)
I have bethought me; get me by degrees
213
The keys of all my doors, which I will mould
214
In wax, and take their fair impression,
215
To have by them new keys. This being compass’d,
216
At a set hour a letter shall be brought me,
217
And when they think they may securely play,
218
They nearest are to danger. Nick, I must rely
219
Upon thy trust and faithful secrecy.
220
Nicholas
Build on my faith.
221
Frankford
To bed then, not to rest;
Care lodges in my brain, grief in my breast.
222
([Exeunt.])
[Act III. Scene 3]
([Old Mountford’s house])
(Enter Sir Charles's sister, Old Mountford, Sandy, Roder, and Tidy)
Mountford
You say my nephew is in great distress.
1
Who brought it to him but his own lewd life?
2
I cannot spare a cross. I must confess
3
He was my brother’s son; why, niece, what then?
4
This is no world in which to pity men.
5
Susan
I was not born a beggar, though his extremes
6
Enforce this language from me; I protest
7
No fortune of mine own could lead my tongue
8
To this base key. I do beseech you, uncle,
9
For the name’s sake, for Christianity,—
10
Nay, for God’s sake, to pity his distress.
11
He is deni’d the freedom of the prison,
12
And in the hole is laid with men condemn’d;
13
Plenty he hath of nothing but of irons,
14
And it remains in you to free him thence.
15
Mountford
Money I cannot spare. Men should take heed;
16
He lost my kindred when he fell to need.
17
([Exit.])
Susan
Gold is but earth; thou earth enough shalt have,
18
When thou hast once took measure of thy grave.
19
You know me, Master Sandy, and my suit.
20
Sandy
I knew you, lady, when the old man liv’d;
21
I knew you ere your brother sold his land.
22
Then you were Mistress Sue, trick’d up in jewels;
23
Then you sung well, play’d sweetly on the lute;
24
But now I neither know you nor your suit.
25
([Exit.])
Susan
You, Master Roder, was my brother’s tenant;
26
Rent-free he plac’d you in that wealthy farm,
27
Of which you are possess’d.
28
Roder
True, he did;
And have I not there dwelt still for his sake?
29
I have some business now; but, without doubt,
30
They that have hurl’d him in will help him out.
31
(Exit.)
Susan
Cold comfort still. What say you, cousin Tidy?
32
Tidy
I say this comes of roisting, swagg’ring;
33
Call me not cousin. Each man for himself.
34
Some men are born to mirth, and some to sorrow;
35
I am no cousin unto them that borrow.
36
(Exit.)
Susan
O Charity, why art thou fled to Heaven,
37
And left all things on this earth uneven?
38
Their scoffing answers I will ne’er return;
39
But to myself his grief in silence mourn.
40
(Enter Sir Francis and Malby)
Francis
She is poor; I’ll therefore tempt her with this gold.
41
Go, Malby, in my name deliver it,
42
And I will stay thy answer.
43
Malby
Fair mistress, as I understand your grief
44
Doth grow from want, so I have here in store
45
A means to furnish you, a bag of gold,
46
Which to your hands I freely tender you.
47
Susan
I thank you, Heavens; I thank you, gentle sir.
48
God make me able to requite this favour!
49
Malby
This gold Sir Francis Acton sends by me,
50
And prays you—
51
Susan
Acton! O God! That name I’m born to curse.
52
Hence, bawd; hence, broker! See, I spurn his gold;
53
My honour never shall for gain be sold.
54
Francis
Stay, lady, stay!
55
Susan
From you I’ll posting hie,
Even as the doves from feather’d eagles fly.
56
(Exit.)
Francis
She hates my name, my face; how should I woo?
57
I am disgrac’d in everything I do.
58
The more she hates me and disdains my love,
59
The more I am rapt in admiration
60
Of her divine and chaste perfections.
61
Woo her with gifts I cannot, for all gifts
62
Sent in my name she spurns; with looks I cannot,
63
For she abhors my sight; nor yet with letters,
64
For none she will receive. How then? How then?
65
Well, I will fasten such a kindness on her,
66
As shall o’ercome her hate and conquer it.
67
Sir Charles, her brother, lies in execution
68
For a great sum of money; and besides,
69
The appeal is sued still for my huntsmen’s death,
70
Which only I have power to reverse.
71
In her I’ll bury all my hate of him.
72
Go seek the keeper, Malby; bring him to me.
73
To save his body, I his debts will pay;
74
To save his life, I his appeal will stay.
75
([Exeunt.])
[Act IV. Scene I]
([The prison in York Castle])
(Enter Sir Charles with irons, his feet bare, his garments all ragged and torn)
Charles
Of all on the earth’s face most miserable,
1
Breathe in this hellish dungeon thy laments.
2
Thus like a slave ragg’d, like a felon gyv’d,—
3
That hurls thee headlong to this base estate.
4
O unkind uncle! O my friends ingrate!
5
Unthankful kinsmen! Mountford’s all too base,
6
To let thy name be fetter’d in disgrace.
7
A thousand deaths here in this grave I die;
8
Fear, hunger, sorrow, cold, all threat my death,
9
And join together to deprive my breath.
10
But that which most torments me, my dear sister
11
Hath left to visit me, and from my friends
12
Hath brought no hopeful answer; therefore, I
13
Divine they will not help my misery.
14
If it be so, shame, scandal, and contempt
15
Attend their covetous thoughts; need make their graves!
16
Usurers they live, and may they die like slaves!
17
(Enter keeper)
Keeper
Knight, be of comfort, for I bring thee freedom
18
From all thy troubles.
19
Charles
Then I am doomed to die;
Death is the end of all calamity.
20
Keeper
Live. Your appeal is stay’d, the execution
21
Of your debts discharg’d, your creditors,
22
Even to the utmost penny, satisfied.
23
In sign whereof, your shackles I knock off.
24
You are not left so much indebted to us
25
As for your fees; all is discharg’d, all paid.
26
Go freely to your house, or where you please;
27
After long miseries, embrace your ease.
28
Charles
Thou grumblest out the sweetest music to me
29
That ever organ play’d. Is this a dream,
30
Or do my waking senses apprehend
31
The pleasing taste of these applausive news?
32
Slave that I was, to wrong such honest friends,
33
My loving kinsmen, and my near allies!
34
Tongue, I will bite thee for the scandal breath’d
35
Against such faithful kinsmen; they are all
36
Compos’d of pity and compassion,
37
Of melting charity, and of moving ruth.
38
That which I spake before was in my rage;
39
They are my friends, the mirrors of this age,
40
Bounteous and free. The noble Mountfords’ race
41
Ne’er bred a covetous thought or humour base.
42
(Enter Susan)
Susan
I can no longer stay from visiting
43
My woeful brother; while I could, I kept
44
My hapless tidings from his hopeful ear.
45
Charles
Sister, how much am I indebted to thee
46
And to thy travail!
47
Susan
What, at liberty?
Charles
Thou seest I am, thanks to thy industry.
48
Oh, unto which of all my courteous friends
49
Am I thus bound? My uncle Mountford, he
50
Even of an infant lov’d me; was it he?
51
So did my cousin Tidy: was it he?
52
So Master Roder, Master Sandy too;
53
Which of all these did this high kindness do?
54
Susan
Charles, can you mock me in your poverty,
55
Knowing your friends deride your misery?
56
Now I protest I stand so much amaz’d,
57
To see your bonds free, and your irons knock’d off,
58
That I am rapt into a maze of wonder;
59
The rather for I know not by what means
60
This happiness hath chanc’d.
61
Charles
Why, by my uncle,
My cousins, and my friends; who else, I pray,
62
Would take upon them all my debts to pay?
63
Susan
Oh, brother, they are men [made] all of flint,
64
Pictures of marble, and as void of pity
65
As chased bears. I begg’d, I sued, I kneel’d,
66
Laid open all your griefs and miseries,
67
Which they derided; more than that, deni’d us
68
A part in their alliance; but, in pride,
69
Said that our kindred with our plenty died.
70
Charles
Drudges too much! What, did they? Oh, known evil!
71
Rich fly the poor as good men shun the devil.
72
Whence should my freedom come? Of whom alive,
73
Saving of those, have I deserv’d so well?
74
Guess, sister, call to mind, remember me.
75
These I have rais’d, they follow the world’s guise,
76
Whom rich they honour, they in woe despise.
77
Susan
My wits have lost themselves; let’s ask the keeper.
78
Charles
Jailer!
79
Keeper
At hand, sir.
80
Charles
Of courtesy, resolve me one demand.
81
What was he took the burden of my debts
82
From off my back, stay’d my appeal to death,
83
Discharg’d my fees, and brought me liberty?
84
Keeper
A courteous knight, and call’d Sir Francis Acton.
85
Charles
Ha! Acton! O me, more distress’d in this
86
Than all my troubles! Hale me back,
87
Double my irons, and my sparing meals
88
Put into halves, and lodge me in a dungeon
89
More deep, more dark, more cold, more comfortless.
90
By Acton freed! Not all thy manacles
91
Could fetter so my heels, as this one word
92
Hath thrall’d my heart; and it must now lie bound
93
In more strict prison than thy stony jail.
94
I am not free; I go but under bail.
95
Keeper
My charge is done, sir, now I have my fees;
96
As we get little, we will nothing leese.
97
Charles
By Acton freed, my dangerous opposite!
98
Why, to what end? Or what occasion? Ha!
99
Let me forget the name of enemy,
100
And with indifference balance this high favour. Ha!
101
Susan
His love to me; upon my soul, ‘tis so!
102
That is the root from whence these strange things grow.
103
Charles
Had this proceeded from my father, he
104
That by the law of nature is most bound
105
In offices of love, it had deserv’d
106
My best employment to requite that grace.
107
Had it proceeded from my friends, or him,
108
From them this action had deserv’d my life,
109
And from a stranger more, because from such
110
There is less execution of good deeds.
111
But he, nor father, nor ally, nor friend,
112
More than a stranger, both remote in blood,
113
And in his heart oppos’d my enemy,
114
That this high bounty should proceed from him—
115
Oh, there I lose myself. What should I say,
116
What think, what do, his bounty to repay?
117
Susan
You wonder, I am sure, whence this strange kindness
118
Proceeds in Acton; I will tell you, brother:
119
He dotes on me, and oft hath sent me gifts,
120
Letters, and tokens. I refus’d them all.
121
Charles
I have enough, though poor; my heart is set,
122
In one rich gift to pay back all my debt.
123
(Exeunt.)
[Act IV. Scene 2]
([Frankford’s house])
(Enter Frankford, with a letter in his hand, and Nick, with keys)
Frankford
This is the night that I must play my part,
1
To try two seeming angels. Where’s my keys?
2
Nicholas
They are made according to your mould in wax.
3
I bade the smith be secret, gave him money,
4
And here they are. The letter, sir.
5
Frankford
True; take it, there it is;
6
And when thou seest me in my pleasant’st vein,
7
Ready to sit to supper, bring it me.
8
Nicholas
I’ll do’t; make no more question but I’ll do’t.
9
(Exit.)
(Enter Mistress Frankford, Cranwell, Wendoll, and Jenkin)
Anne
Sirrah, ‘tis six o’clock already struck;
10
Go bid them spread the cloth and serve in supper.
11
Jenkin
It shall be done, forsooth, Mistress. Where’s Spigot, the butler, to give us our salt and trenchers?
Wendoll
We that have been a-hunting all the day
14
Come with prepared stomachs. Master Frankford,
15
We wish’d you at our sport.
16
Frankford
My heart was with you, and my mind was on you.
17
Fie, Master Cranwell, you are still thus sad;
18
A stool, a stool! Where’s Jenkin, and where’s Nick?
19
‘Tis supper time at least an hour ago.
20
What’s the best news abroad?
21
Wendoll
I know none good.
Frankford
But I know too much bad.
22
(Enter Spigot and Jenkin with a tablecloth, bread, trenchers, and salt [and exeunt shortly])
Cranwell
Methinks, sir, you might have that interest
23
In your wife’s brother, to be more remiss
24
In his hard dealing against poor Sir Charles,
25
Who, as I hear, lies in York Castle,
26
Needy, and in great want.
27
Frankford
Did not more weighty business of mine own
28
Hold me away, I would have labour’d peace
29
Betwixt them with all care; indeed I would, sir.
30
Anne
I’ll write unto my brother earnestly
31
In that behalf.
32
Wendoll
A charitable deed,
And will beget the good opinion
33
Of all your friends that love you, Mistress Frankford.
34
Frankford
That’s you for one. I know you love Sir Charles.—
35
And my wife too well.
36
Wendoll
He deserves the love
Of all true gentlemen; be yourselves judge.
37
Frankford
But supper, ho! Now as thou lov’st me, Wendoll,
38
Which I am sure thou dost, be merry, pleasant,
39
And frolic it tonight. Sweet Master Cranwell,
40
Do you the like. Wife, I protest my heart
41
Was ne’er more bent on sweet alacrity.
42
Where be those lazy knaves to serve in supper?
43
(Enter Nick)
Nicholas
Here's a letter, sir.
44
Frankford
Whence comes it, and who brought it?
45
Nicholas
A stripling that below attends your answer,
46
And, as he tells me, it is sent from York.
47
Frankford
Have him into the cellar; let him taste
48
A cup of our March beer. Go, make him drink.
49
([Reads the letter.])
Nicholas
I’ll make him drunk, if he be a Trojan.
50
Frankford
My boots and spurs! Where’s Jenkin? God forgive me,
51
How I neglect my business! Wife, look here;
52
I have a matter to be tri’d tomorrow
53
By eight o’clock, and my attorney writes me
54
I must be there betimes with evidence,
55
Or it will go against me. Where’s my boots?
56
(Enter Jenkin, with boots and spurs)
Anne
I hope your business craves no such dispatch
57
That you must ride tonight.
58
Wendoll
I hope it doth.
Frankford
God’s me, no such dispatch?
59
Jenkin, my boots. Where’s Nick? Saddle my roan,
60
And the grey dapple for himself. Content ye,
61
It much concerns me. Gentle Master Cranwell,
62
And Master Wendoll, in my absence use
63
The very ripest pleasure of my house.
64
Wendoll
Lord, Master Frankford, will you ride tonight?
65
The ways are dangerous.
66
Frankford
Therefore will I ride
Appointed well, and so shall Nick, my man.
67
Anne
I’ll call you up by five o’clock tomorrow.
68
Frankford
No, by my faith, wife, I’ll not trust to that;
69
‘Tis not such easy rising in a morning
70
From one I love so dearly. No, by my faith,
71
I shall not leave so sweet a bedfellow
72
But with much pain; you have made me a sluggard
73
Since I first knew you.
74
Anne
Then, if you needs will go
This dangerous evening, Master Wendoll,
75
Let me entreat you bear him company.
76
Wendoll
With all my heart, sweet mistress. My boots there!
77
Frankford
Fie, fie, that for my private business
78
I should disease my friend, and be a trouble
79
To the whole house. Nick?
80
Nicholas
Anon, sir.
Frankford
Bring forth my gelding.—As you love me, sir,
81
([Exit Nicholas.])
Use no more words. A hand, good Master Cranwell.
82
Cranwell
Sir, God be your good speed.
83
Frankford
Good night, sweet Nan; nay, nay, a kiss, and part.—
84
Dissembling lips, you suit not with my heart.
85
(Exit.)
Wendoll
How business, time, and hours, all gracious prove,
86
And are the furtherers to my new-born love!
87
I am husband now in Master Frankford’s place,
88
And must command the house.
89
[To Anne.] My pleasure is
90
We will not sup abroad so publicly,
91
But in your private chamber, Mistress Frankford.
92
Anne
Oh, sir, you are too public in your love,
93
And Master Frankford’s wife—
94
Cranwell
Might I crave favour,
I would entreat you I might see my chamber;
95
I am on the sudden grown exceeding ill,
96
And would be spar’d from supper.
97
Wendoll
Light there, ho!
See you want nothing, sir; for if you do,
98
You injure that good man, and wrong me too.
99
Cranwell
I will make bold. Good night.
100
(Exit.)
Wendoll
How all conspire
To make our bosom sweet, and full entire!
101
Come, Nan, I prithee, let us sup within.
102
Anne
Oh, what a clog unto the soul is sin!
103
We pale offenders are still full of fear;
104
Every suspicious eye brings danger near.
105
When they whose clear hearts from offence is free
106
Despise report, base scandals do outface,
107
And stand at mere defiance with disgrace.
108
Wendoll
Fie, fie! You talk too like a Puritan!
109
Anne
You have tempted me to mischief, Master Wendoll;
110
I have done I know not what. Well, you plead custom;
111
That which for want of wit I granted erst,
112
I now must yield through fear. Come, come, let’s in.
113
Once o’er shoes, we are straight o’er head in sin.
114
Wendoll
My jocund soul is joyful above measure;
115
I’ll be profuse in Frankford’s richest treasure.
116
(Exeunt.)
[Act IV. Scene 3]
([Another room in Frankford’s house])
(Enter Cicely, Jenkin, and Spigot)
Jenkin
My mistress and Master Wendoll, my master, sup in her chamber tonight. Cicely, you are preferred from being the cook to be chambermaid. Of all the loves betwixt thee and me, tell me what thou think’st of this.
Cicely
Mum; there’s an old proverb: when the cat’s away, the mouse may play.
Jenkin
Now you talk of a cat, Cicely, I smell a rat.
Cicely
Good words, Jenkin, lest you be called to answer them.
Jenkin
Why, God make my mistress an honest woman! Are not these good words? Pray God my new master play not the knave with my old master! Is there any hurt in this? God send no villainy intended; and if they do sup together, 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, more; here in my hand; thou shalt never have my heart unless thou say Amen.
Cicely
Amen, I pray God, I say.
18
(Enter serving-man)
Serving man
My mistress sends that you should make less noise, to lock up the doors, and see the household all got to bed. You, Jenkin, for this night are made the porter, to see the gates shut in.
Jenkin
Thus by little and little I creep into office. Come, to kennel, my masters, to kennel; ‘tis eleven o’clock already.
Serving man
When you have locked the gates in, you must send up the keys to my mistress.
Cicely
Quickly, for God’s sake, Jenkin, for I must carry them! I am neither pillow nor bolster, but I know more than both.
Jenkin
To bed, good Spigot; to bed, good honest serving- creatures; and let us sleep as snug as pigs in pease-straw!
(Exeunt.)
[Act IV. Scene 4]
([Outside Frankford’s house])
(Enter Frankford and Nick)
Frankford
Soft, soft; we have tied our geldings to a tree
1
Two flight-shot off, lest by their thundering hoofs
2
They blab our coming. Hear’st thou no noise?
3
Nicholas
I hear nothing but the owl and you.
Frankford
So; now my watch’s hand points upon twelve,
5
And it is just midnight. Where are my keys?
6
Nicholas
Here, sir.
Frankford
This is the key that opes my outward gate;
8
This, the hall door; this, the withdrawing-chamber;
9
But this, that door that’s bawd unto my shame,
10
Fountain and spring of all my bleeding thoughts,
11
Where the most hallowed order and true knot
12
Of nuptial sanctity hath been profan’d;
13
It leads to my polluted bed-chamber,
14
Once my terrestrial Heaven, now my earth’s hell,
15
The place where sins in all their ripeness dwell.
16
But I forget myself; now to my gate.
17
Nicholas
It must ope with far less noise than Cripplegate, or your plot’s dash’d.
Frankford
So; reach me my dark lantern to the rest;
20
[They pass through the outer gate.] Tread softly, softly.
21
Nicholas
I will walk on eggs this pace.
Frankford
A general silence hath surpris’d the house,
23
And this is the last door. Astonishment,
24
Fear, and amazement beat upon my heart,
25
Even as a madman beats upon a drum.
26
Oh, keep my eyes, you Heavens, before I enter,
27
From any sight that may transfix my soul;
28
Or if there be so black a spectacle,
29
Oh, strike mine eyes stark blind; or if not so,
30
Lend me such patience to digest my grief,
31
That I may keep this white and virgin hand
32
From any violent outrage, or red murder;
33
And with that prayer I enter.
34
([Enter the bedroom.])
Nicholas
Here’s a circumstance indeed! A man may be made a cuckold in the time he’s about it. And the case were mine, as ’tis my master’s,—‘Sblood! (That makes me swear!)—
I would have plac’d his action, enter’d there,
38
I would, I would.
39
([Enter Frankford.])
Frankford
Oh, oh!
Nicholas
Master! ‘Sblood! Master, master!
40
Frankford
O me unhappy! I have found them lying
41
Close in each other’s arms, and fast asleep.
42
But that I would not damn two precious souls
43
Bought with my Saviour’s blood, and send them, laden
44
With all their scarlet sins upon their backs,
45
Unto a fearful judgment, their two lives
46
Had met upon my rapier.
47
Nicholas
Master! What, have you left them sleeping still?
48
Let me go wake ‘em!
49
Frankford
Stay, let me pause awhile.
O God, O God, that it were possible
50
To undo things done; to call back yesterday!
51
That Time could turn up his swift sandy glass,
52
To untell the days, and to redeem these hours;
53
Or that the sun
54
Could, rising from the west, draw his coach backward,
55
Take from th’account of time so many minutes,
56
Till he had all these seasons call’d again,
57
Those minutes, and those actions done in them,
58
Even from her first offence; that I might take her
59
As spotless as an angel in my arms!
60
But, oh, I talk of things impossible,
61
And cast beyond the moon. God give me patience,
62
For I will in and wake them.
63
(Exit.)
Nicholas
Here’s patience perforce;
He needs must trot afoot that tires his horse.
64
(Enter Wendoll, running over the stage in a nightgown, Frankford after him with his sword drawn; a maid in her smock stays his hand and clasps hold on him. He pauses for a while)
Frankford
I thank thee, maid; thou, like an angel’s hand,
65
Hast stay’d me from a bloody sacrifice.—
66
Go, villain, and my wrongs sit on thy soul
67
As heavy as this grief doth upon mine.
68
When thou record’st my many courtesies,
69
And shalt compare them with thy treacherous heart,
70
Lay them together, weigh them equally,
71
‘Twill be revenge enough. Go, to thy friend
72
A Judas. Pray, pray, lest I live to see
73
Thee, Judas-like, hang’d on an elder-tree.
74
(Enter Mistress Frankford in her smock, nightgown, and night attire)
Anne
Oh, by what word, what title, or what name,
75
Shall I entreat your pardon? Pardon! Oh,
76
I am as far from hoping such sweet grace
77
As Lucifer from Heaven. To call you husband—
78
O me, most wretched!—I have lost that name;
79
I am no more your wife.
80
Nicholas
‘Sblood, sir, she sounds!
Frankford
[To Anne.] Spare thou thy tears, for I will weep for thee;
81
And keep thy count’nance, for I’ll blush for thee.
82
Now, I protest, I think ‘tis I am tainted,
83
For I am most asham’d; and ‘tis more hard
84
For me to look upon thy guilty face
85
Than on the sun’s clear brow. What, would’st thou speak?
86
Anne
I would I had no tongue, no ears, no eyes,
87
No apprehension, no capacity.
88
When do you spurn me like a dog? When tread me
89
Under feet? When drag me by the hair?
90
Though I deserve a thousand thousand fold
91
More than you can inflict; yet, once my husband,
92
For womanhood, to which I am a shame,
93
Though once an ornament; even for His sake
94
That hath redeem’d our souls, mark not my face,
95
Nor hack me with your sword; but let me go
96
Perfect and undeformed to my tomb.
97
I am not worthy that I should prevail
98
In the least suit; no, not to speak to you,
99
Nor look on you, nor to be in your presence.
100
Yet, as an abject, this one suit I crave,
101
This granted, I am ready for my grave.
102
Frankford
My God, with patience arm me! Rise, nay, rise,
103
And I’ll debate with thee. Was it for want
104
Thou play’dst the strumpet? Wast thou not supplied
105
With every pleasure, fashion, and new toy,
106
Nay, even beyond my calling?
107
Anne
I was.
Frankford
Was it then disability in me?
108
Or in thine eye seem’d he a properer man?
109
Anne
Oh, no.
Frankford
Did I not lodge thee in my bosom,
110
Wear thee in my heart?
111
Anne
You did.
Frankford
I did, indeed; witness my tears, I did.
112
Go, bring my infants hither.
113
([Exit maid, returning with two children.])
O Nan, O Nan,
If neither fear of shame, regard of honour,
114
The blemish of my house, nor my dear love
115
Could have withheld thee from so lewd a fact,
116
Yet for these infants, these young, harmless souls,
117
On whose white brows thy shame is character’d,
118
And grows in greatness as they wax in years—
119
Look but on them, and melt away in tears.
120
Away with them; lest, as her spotted body
121
Hath stain’d their names with stripe of bastardy,
122
So her adulterous breath may blast their spirits
123
With her infectious thoughts. Away with them!
124
([Exeunt maid and children.])
Anne
[Kneeling.] In this one life I die ten thousand deaths.
125
Frankford
Stand up, stand up. I will do nothing rashly;
126
I will retire awhile into my study,
127
And thou shalt hear thy sentence presently.
128
(Exit.)
Anne
‘Tis welcome, be it death. O me, base strumpet,
129
That having such a husband, such sweet children,
130
Must enjoy neither! Oh, to redeem mine honour,
131
I would have this hand cut off, these my breasts sear’d,
132
Be rack’d, strappado’d, put to any torment;
133
Nay, to whip but this scandal out, I would hazard
134
The rich and dear redemption of my soul!
135
He cannot be so base as to forgive me,
136
Nor I so shameless to accept his pardon.
137
O women, women, you that yet have kept
138
Your holy matrimonial vow unstain’d,
139
Make me your instance; when you tread awry,
140
Your sins, like mine, will on your conscience lie.
141
(Enter Cicely, Jenkin, Spigot, and all the serving-men, as newly come out of bed)
All
O mistress, mistress! What have you done, mistress?
Nicholas
What a caterwauling keep you here!
Jenkin
O Lord, mistress, how comes this to pass? My master is run away in his shirt, and never so much as called me to bring his clothes after him.
Anne
See what guilt is; here stand I in this place,
147
Asham’d to look my servants in the face.
148
(Enter Master Frankford and Cranwell; whom seeing, she falls on her knees)
Frankford
My words are regist’red in Heaven already;
149
With patience hear me. I’ll not martyr thee,
150
Nor mark thee for a strumpet; but with usage
151
Of more humility torment thy soul,
152
And kill thee even with kindness.
153
Cranwell
Master Frankford,—
Frankford
Good Master Cranwell.—Woman, hear thy judgment.
154
Go make thee ready in thy best attire;
155
Take with thee all thy gowns, all thy apparel;
156
Leave nothing that did ever call thee mistress,
157
Or by whose sight, being left here in the house,
158
I may remember such a woman by.
159
Choose thee a bed and hanging for thy chamber;
160
Take with thee everything which hath thy mark,
161
And get thee to my manor seven mile off,
162
Where live.—‘Tis thine; I freely give it thee.
163
My tenants by shall furnish thee with wains
164
To carry all thy stuff within two hours;
165
No longer will I limit thee my sight.
166
Choose which of all my servants thou lik’st best,
167
And they are thine to attend thee.
168
Anne
A mild sentence.
Frankford
But, as thou hop’st for Heaven, as thou believ’st
169
Thy name’s recorded in the book of life,
170
I charge thee never after this sad day
171
To see me, or to meet me, or to send,
172
By word, or writing, gift, or otherwise,
173
To move me, by thyself, or by thy friends;
174
Nor challenge any part in my two children.
175
So farewell, Nan; for we will henceforth be
176
As we had never seen, ne’er more shall see.
177
Anne
How full my heart is, in mine eyes appears;
178
What wants in words, I will supply in tears.
179
Frankford
Come, take your coach, your stuff; all must along.
180
Servants and all make ready; all begone.
181
It was thy hand cut two hearts out of one.
182
([Exeunt.])
[Act V. Scene 1]
([Near Sir Francis Acton’s house])
(Enter Sir Charles, gentlemanlike, and his sister, gentlewomanlike.)
Susan
Brother, why have you trick’d me like a bride,
1
Bought me this gay attire, these ornaments?
2
Forget you our estate, our poverty?
3
Charles
Call me not brother, but imagine me
4
Some barbarous outlaw, or uncivil kern;
5
For if thou shutt’st thy eye, and only hear’st
6
The words that I shall utter, thou shalt judge me
7
Some staring ruffian, not thy brother Charles.
8
Oh, sister—
9
Susan
Oh, brother, what doth this strange language mean?
10
Charles
Dost love me, sister? Wouldst thou see me live
11
A bankrupt beggar in the world’s disgrace,
12
And die indebted to mine enemies?
13
Wouldst thou behold me stand like a huge beam
14
In the world’s eye, a byword and a scorn?
15
It lies in thee of these to acquit me free,
16
And all my debt I may outstrip by thee.
17
Susan
By me? Why, I have nothing, nothing left;
18
I owe even for the clothes upon my back.
19
I am not worth—
20
Charles
Oh, sister, say not so;
It lies in you my downcast state to raise,
21
To make me stand on even points with the world.
22
Come, sister, you are rich; indeed you are,
23
And in your power you have, without delay,
24
Acton’s five hundred pounds back to repay.
25
Susan
Till now I had thought y’had lov’d me. By my honour,
26
Which I have kept as spotless as the moon,
27
I ne’er was mistress of that single doit
28
Which I reserv’d not to supply your wants;
29
And do ye think that I would hoard from you?
30
Now, by my hopes in Heaven, knew I the means
31
To buy you from the slavery of your debts
32
(Especially from Acton, whom I hate),
33
I would redeem it with my life or blood.
34
Charles
I challenge it, and, kindred set apart,
35
Thus, ruffian-like, I lay siege to thy heart.
36
What do I owe to Acton?
37
Susan
Why, some five hundred pounds; towards which, I swear,
38
In all the world I have not one denier.
39
Charles
It will not prove so. Sister, now resolve me:
40
What do you think (and speak your conscience)
41
Would Acton give, might he enjoy your bed?
42
Susan
He would not shrink to spend a thousand pound,
43
To give the Mountfords’ name so deep a wound.
44
Charles
A thousand pound! I but five hundred owe;
45
Grant him your bed, he’s paid with interest so.
46
Susan
Oh, brother!
47
Charles
Oh, sister, only this one way,
With that rich jewel you my debts may pay.
48
In speaking so my cold heart shakes with shame;
49
Nor do I woo you in a brother’s name,
50
But in a stranger’s. Shall I die in debt
51
To Acton, my grand foe, and you still wear
52
The precious jewel that he holds so dear?
53
Susan
My honour I esteem as dear and precious
54
As my redemption.
55
Charles
I esteem you, sister,
As dear, for so dear prizing it.
56
Susan
Will Charles
Have me cut off my hands and send them Acton,
57
Rip up my breast, and with my bleeding heart
58
Present him as a token?
59
Charles
Neither, sister;
But hear me in my strange assertion.
60
Thy honour and my soul are equal in my regard;
61
Nor will thy brother Charles survive thy shame.
62
His kindness, like a burden, hath surcharg’d me,
63
And under his good deeds I stooping go,
64
Not with an upright soul. Had I remain’d
65
In prison still, there doubtless I had died.
66
Then, unto him that freed me from that prison
67
Still do I owe this life. What mov’d my foe
68
To enfranchise me? ‘Twas, sister, for your love.
69
With full five hundred pounds he bought your love,
70
And shall he not enjoy it? Shall the weight
71
Of all this heavy burden lean on me,
72
And will you not bear part? You did partake
73
The joy of my release; will you not stand
74
In joint-bond bound to satisfy the debt?
75
Shall I be only charg’d?
76
Susan
But that I know
These arguments come from an honour’d mind,
77
As in your most extremity of need
78
Scorning to stand in debt to one you hate—
79
Nay, rather would engage your unsustain’d honour
80
Than to be held ingrate—I should condemn you.
81
I see your resolution, and assent;
82
So Charles will have me, and I am content.
83
Charles
For this I trick’d you up.
84
Susan
But here’s a knife,
To save my honour, shall slice out my life.
85
Charles
I know thou pleasest me a thousand times
86
More in thy resolution than thy grant.—
87
Observe her love; to sooth it to my suit,
88
Her honour she will hazard, though not lose.
89
To bring me out of debt, her rigorous hand
90
Will pierce her heart. Oh wonder, that will choose,
91
Rather than stain her blood, her life to lose!
92
Come, you sad sister to a woeful brother,
93
This is the gate. I’ll bear him such a present,
94
Such an acquittance for the knight to seal,
95
As will amaze his senses, and surprise
96
With admiration all his fantasies.
97
(Enter Sir Francis Acton and Malby [at a distance])
Susan
Before his unchaste thoughts shall seize on me,
98
‘Tis here shall my imprison’d soul set free.
99
Francis
How! Mountford with his sister, hand in hand!
100
What miracle’s afoot?
101
Malby
It is a sight
Begets in me much admiration.
102
Charles
Stand not amaz’d to see me thus attended.
103
Acton, I owe thee money, and being unable
104
To bring thee the full sum in ready coin,
105
Lo, for thy more assurance here’s a pawn,
106
My sister, my dear sister, whose chaste honour
107
I prize above a million. Here; nay, take her;
108
She’s worth your money, man; do not forsake her.
109
Francis
I would he were in earnest.
110
Susan
Impute it not to my immodesty;
111
My brother, being rich in nothing else
112
But in his interest that he hath in me,
113
According to his poverty hath brought you
114
Me, all his store; whom, howsoe’er you prize
115
As forfeit to your hand, he values highly,
116
And would not sell, but to acquit your debt,
117
For any emperor’s ransom.
118
Francis
Stern heart, relent,
Thy former cruelty at length repent.
119
Was ever known, in any former age,
120
Such honourable, wrested courtesy?
121
Lands, honours, life, and all the world forgo,
122
Rather than stand engag’d to such a foe.
123
Charles
Acton, she is too poor to be thy bride,
124
And I too much oppos’d to be thy brother.
125
There, take her to thee; if thou hast the heart
126
To seize her as a rape or lustful prey,
127
To blur our house, that never yet was stain’d,
128
To murder her that never meant thee harm,
129
To kill me now, whom once thou sav’dst from death;—
130
Do them at once; on her all these rely,
131
And perish with her spotted chastity.
132
Francis
You overcome me in your love, Sir Charles.
133
I cannot be so cruel to a lady
134
I love so dearly. Since you have not spar’d
135
To engage your reputation to the world,
136
Your sister’s honour, which you prize so dear,
137
Nay, all the comfort which you hold on earth,
138
To grow out of my debt, being your foe,
139
Your honour’d thoughts, lo, thus I recompense.
140
Your metamorphos’d foe receives your gift
141
In satisfaction of all former wrongs.
142
This jewel I will wear here in my heart,
143
And where before I thought her, for her wants,
144
Too base to be my bride, to end all strife,
145
I seal you my dear brother, her my wife.
146
Susan
You still exceed us. I will yield to fate,
147
And learn to love, where I till now did hate.
148
Charles
With that enchantment you have charm’d my soul,
149
And made me rich even in those very words.
150
I pay no debt, but I am indebted more;
151
Rich in your love, I never can be poor.
152
Francis
All’s mine is yours; we are alike in state;
153
Let’s knit in love what was oppos’d in hate.
154
Come; for our nuptials we will straight provide,
155
Bless’d only in our brother and fair bride.
156
([Exeunt.])
[Act V. Scene 2]
([Frankford’s house])
(Enter Cranwell, Frankford, and Nicholas)
Cranwell
Why do you search each room about your house,
1
Now that you have dispatch’d your wife away?
2
Frankford
Oh, sir, to see that nothing may be left
3
That ever was my wife’s. I lov’d her dearly,
4
And when I do but think of her unkindness,
5
My thoughts are all in hell; to avoid which torment,
6
I would not have a bodkin or a cuff,
7
A bracelet, necklace, or rebato wire,
8
Nor anything that ever was call’d hers
9
Left me, by which I might remember her.
10
Seek round about.
11
Nicholas
‘Sblood, master; here’s her lute flung in a corner!
12
Frankford
Her lute! O God! Upon this instrument
13
Her fingers have ran quick division,
14
Sweeter than that which now divides our hearts.
15
These frets have made me pleasant, that have now
16
Frets of my heart-strings made. Oh, Master Cranwell,
17
Oft hath she made this melancholy wood,
18
Now mute and dumb for her disastrous chance,
19
Speak sweetly many a note, sound many a strain
20
To her own ravishing voice; which being well strung,
21
What pleasant strange airs have they jointly rung.
22
Post with it after her. Now nothing’s left;
23
Of her and hers I am at once bereft.
24
Nicholas
I’ll ride and overtake her, do my message,
25
And come back again.
26
([Exit.])
Cranwell
Meantime, sir, if you please,
I’ll to Sir Francis Acton, and inform him
27
Of what hath pass’d betwixt you and his sister.
28
Frankford
Do as you please. How ill am I bested,
29
To be a widower ere my wife be dead!
30
([Exeunt.])
[Act V. Scene 3]
([The road near Frankford’s manor-house])
(Enter Mistress Frankford, with Jenkin, her maid Cicely, her coachman, and three carters)
Anne
Bid my coach stay; why should I ride in state,
1
Being hurl’d so low down by the hand of fate?
2
A seat like to my fortunes let me have,
3
Earth for my chair, and for my bed a grave.
4
Jenkin
Comfort, good mistress; you have watered your coach with tears already. You have but two mile now to go to your manor. A man cannot say by my old master Frankford as he may say by me, that he wants manors; for he has three or four, of which this is one that we are going to now.
Cicely
Good mistress, be of good cheer; sorrow, you see, hurts you, but helps you not. We all mourn to see you so sad.
Carter
Mistress, I see some of my landlord’s men
12
Come riding post; ‘tis like he brings some news.
13
Anne
Comes he from Master Frankford, he is welcome;
14
So is his news, because they come from him.
15
(Enter Nicholas)
Nicholas
[Handing her the lute.] There!
16
Anne
I know the lute. Oft have I sung to thee;
17
We are both out of tune, being out of time.
18
Nicholas
Would that had been the worst instrument that e’er you played on. My master commends him unto ye; there’s all he can find that was ever yours. He hath nothing left that ever you could lay claim to but his own heart, and he could afford you that. All that I have to deliver you is this: he prays you to forget him, and so he bids you farewell.
Anne
I thank him; he is kind, and ever was.
25
All you that have true feeling for my grief,
26
That know my loss, and have relenting hearts,
27
Gird me about, and help me with your tears
28
To wash my spotted sins. My lute shall groan;
29
It cannot weep, but shall lament my moan.
30
([She plays and sings.])
(Enter Wendoll [at a distance])
Wendoll
Pursu’d with horror of a guilty soul,
31
And with the sharp scourge of repentance lash’d,
32
I fly from mine own shadow. O my stars!
33
What have my parents in their lives deserv’d,
34
That you should lay this penance on their son?
35
When I but think of Master Frankford’s love,
36
And lay it to my treason, or compare
37
My murdering him for his relieving me,
38
It strikes a terror like a lightning’s flash
39
To scorch my blood up. Thus I, like the owl,
40
Asham’d of day, live in these shadowy woods,
41
Afraid of every leaf or murmuring blast,
42
Yet longing to receive some perfect knowledge
43
How he hath dealt with her.
44
([Sees Mistress Frankford.])
O my sad fate!
Here, and so far from home, and thus attended!
45
O God, I have divorc’d the truest turtles
46
That ever liv’d together, and, being divided,
47
In several places make their several moan;
48
She in the fields laments, and he at home.
49
So poets write that Orpheus made the trees
50
And stones to dance to his melodious harp,
51
Meaning the rustic and the barbarous hinds,
52
That had no understanding part in them;
53
So she from these rude carters tears extracts,
54
Making their flinty hearts with grief to rise,
55
And draw down rivers from their rocky eyes.
56
Anne
[To Nicholas.] If you return unto my master, say
57
(Though not from me, for I am all unworthy
58
To blast his name so with a strumpet’s tongue)
59
That you have seen me weep, wish myself dead.
60
Nay, you may say too, for my vow is pass’d,
61
Last night you saw me eat and drink my last.
62
This to your master you may say and swear,
63
For it is writ in Heaven, and decreed here.
64
Nicholas
I’ll say you wept; I’ll swear you made me sad.
65
Why, how now, eyes? What now? What’s here to do?
66
I’m gone, or I shall straight turn baby too.
67
Wendoll
I cannot weep, my heart is all on fire;
68
Curs’d be the fruits of my unchaste desire!
69
Anne
Go, break this lute upon my coach’s wheel,
70
As the last music that I e’er shall make:
71
Not as my husband’s gift, but my farewell
72
To all earth’s joys; and so your master tell.
73
Nicholas
If I can for crying.
74
Wendoll
Grief, have done,
Or, like a madman, I shall frantic run.
75
Anne
You have beheld the woefull’st wretch on earth,
76
A woman made of tears. Would you had words
77
To express but what you see! My inward grief
78
No tongue can utter; yet unto your power
79
You may describe my sorrow, and disclose
80
To thy sad master my abundant woes.
81
Nicholas
I’ll do your commendations.
82
Anne
Oh no!
I dare not so presume; nor to my children.
83
I am disclaim’d in both; alas, I am.
84
Oh, never teach them, when they come to speak,
85
To name the name of mother. Chide their tongue,
86
If they by chance light on that hated word;
87
Tell them ‘tis naught; for when that word they name,
88
Poor, pretty souls, they harp on their own shame.
89
Wendoll
To recompense her wrongs, what canst thou do?
90
Thou hast made her husbandless, and childless too.
91
Anne
I have no more to say. Speak not for me;
92
Yet you may tell your master what you see.
93
Nicholas
I’ll do’t.
94
(Exit.)
Wendoll
I’ll speak to her, and comfort her in grief.
95
Oh, but her wound cannot be cur’d with words!
96
No matter, though; I’ll do my best good will
97
To work a cure on her whom I did kill.
98
Anne
So, now unto my coach, then to my home,
99
So to my death-bed; for from this sad hour,
100
I never will nor eat, nor drink, nor taste
101
Of any cates that may preserve my life.
102
I never will nor smile, nor sleep, nor rest;
103
But when my tears have wash’d my black soul white,
104
Sweet Saviour, to Thy hands I yield my sprite.
105
Wendoll
[Approaching.] Oh, Mistress Frankford!
106
Anne
Oh, for God’s sake, fly!
The devil doth come to tempt me ere I die.
107
My coach! This sin that with an angel’s face
108
Conjur’d mine honour, till he sought my wrack,
109
In my repentant eye seems ugly black.
110
(Exeunt all, except Wendoll and Jenkin, the carters whistling)
Jenkin
What, my young master, that fled 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 cleave to the old house?
Wendoll
Hence, slave! Away with thy unseason’d mirth!
115
Unless thou canst shed tears, and sigh, and howl,
116
Curse thy sad fortunes, and exclaim on fate,
117
Thou art not for my turn.
118
Jenkin
Marry, and you will not, another will. Farewell, and be hanged! Would you had never come to have kept this coil within our doors! We shall ha’ you run away like a sprite again.
([Exit.])
Wendoll
She’s gone to death; I live to want and woe,
123
Her life, her sins, and all upon my head.
124
And I must now go wander, like a Cain,
125
In foreign countries and remoted climes,
126
Where the report of my ingratitude
127
Cannot be heard. I’ll over first to France,
128
And so to Germany and Italy;
129
Where, when I have recover’d, and by travel
130
Gotten those perfect tongues, and that these rumours
131
May in their height abate, I will return;
132
And I divine, however now dejected,
133
My worth and parts being by some great man prais’d,
134
At my return I may in court be rais’d.
135
(Exit.)
[Act V. Scene 4]
([Before Frankford’s manor-house])
(Enter Sir Francis, Sir Charles, Cranwell, Malby, and Susan)
Francis
Brother, and now my wife, I think these troubles
1
Fall on my head by justice of the Heavens,
2
For being so strict to you in your extremities;
3
But we are now aton’d. I would my sister
4
Could with like happiness o’ercome her griefs
5
As we have ours.
6
Susan
You tell us, Master Cranwell, wondrous things
7
Touching the patience of that gentleman,
8
With what strange virtue he demeans his grief.
9
Cranwell
I told you what I was a witness of;
10
It was my fortune to lodge there that night.
11
Francis
Oh, that same villain, Wendoll! ‘Twas his tongue
12
That did corrupt her; she was of herself
13
Chaste and devoted well. Is this the house?
14
Cranwell
Yes, sir; I take it here your sister lies.
15
Francis
My brother Frankford show’d too mild a spirit
16
In the revenge of such a loathed crime.
17
Less than he did, no man of spirit could do.
18
I am so far from blaming his revenge,
19
That I commend it. Had it been my case,
20
Their souls at once had from their breasts been freed;
21
Death to such deeds of shame is the due meed.
22
(Enter Jenkin and Cicely)
Jenkin
Oh, my mistress, mistress, my poor mistress!
Cicely
Alas, that ever I was born! What shall I do for my poor mistress?
Charles
Why, what of her?
Jenkin
O Lord, sir, she no sooner heard that her brother and her friends were come to see how she did, but she, for very shame of her guilty conscience, fell into such a swoon that we had much ado to get life in her.
Susan
Alas, that she should bear so hard a fate!
31
Pity it is repentance comes too late.
32
Francis
Is she so weak in body?
Jenkin
Oh, sir, I can assure you there’s no hope of life in her, for she will take no sustenance; she hath plainly starved herself, and now she’s as lean as a lath. She ever looks for the good hour. Many gentlemen and gentlewomen of the country are come to comfort her.
[Act V. Scene 5]
([Mistress Frankford’s bedroom])
(Enter Mistress Frankford in her bed)
Malby
How fare you, Mistress Frankford?
1
Anne
Sick, sick, oh, sick! Give me some air, I pray you.
2
Tell me, oh, tell me, where’s Master Frankford?
3
Will not he deign to see me ere I die?
4
Malby
Yes, Mistress Frankford; divers gentlemen,
5
Your loving neighbours, with that just request
6
Have mov’d, and told him of your weak estate;
7
Who, though with much ado to get belief,
8
Examining of the general circumstance,
9
Seeing your sorrow and your penitence,
10
And hearing therewithal the great desire
11
You have to see him ere you left the world,
12
He gave to us his faith to follow us,
13
And sure he will be here immediately.
14
Anne
You have half reviv’d me with the pleasing news;
15
Raise me a little higher in my bed.
16
Blush I not, brother Acton? Blush I not, Sir Charles?
17
Can you not read my fault writ in my cheek?
18
Is not my crime there? Tell me, gentlemen.
19
Charles
Alas, good mistress, sickness hath not left you
20
Blood in your face enough to make you blush.
21
Anne
Then sickness, like a friend, my fault would hide.
22
Is my husband come? My soul but tarries
23
His arrive; then I am fit for Heaven.
24
Francis
I came to chide you, but my words of hate
25
Are turn’d to pity and compassionate grief.
26
I came to rate you, but my brawls, you see,
27
Melt into tears, and I must weep by thee.
28
Here’s Master Frankford now.
29
(Enter Frankford)
Frankford
Good morrow, brother; morrow, gentlemen.
30
God, that hath laid this cross upon our heads,
31
Might, had He pleas’d, have made our cause of meeting
32
On a more fair and more contented ground;
33
But He that made us made us to this woe.
34
Anne
And is he come? Methinks that voice I know.
35
Frankford
How do you, woman?
36
Anne
Well, Master Frankford, well; but shall be better,
37
I hope, within this hour. Will you vouchsafe,
38
Out of your grace and your humanity,
39
To take a spotted strumpet by the hand?
40
Frankford
This hand once held my heart in faster bonds
41
Than now ‘tis gripp’d by me. God pardon them
42
That made us first break hold.
43
Anne
Amen, amen.
Out of zeal to Heaven, whither I’m now bound,
44
I was so impudent to wish you here,
45
And once more beg your pardon. O good man,
46
And father to my children, pardon me!
47
Pardon, oh, pardon me! My fault so heinous is,
48
That if you in this world forgive it not,
49
Heaven will not clear it in the world to come.
50
Faintness hath so usurp’d upon my knees
51
That kneel I cannot; but on my heart’s knees
52
My prostrate soul lies thrown down at your feet,
53
To beg your gracious pardon. Pardon, oh, pardon me!
54
Frankford
As freely, from the low depth of my soul,
55
As my Redeemer hath forgiven His death,
56
I pardon thee. I will shed tears for thee,
57
Pray with thee; and, in mere pity of thy weak estate,
58
I’ll wish to die with thee.
59
All
So do we all.
Nicholas
So will not I;
60
I’ll sigh and sob, but, by my faith, not die.
61
Francis
O Master Frankford, all the near alliance
62
I lose by her shall be suppli’d in thee.
63
You are my brother by the nearest way;
64
Her kindred hath fall’n off, but yours doth stay.
65
Frankford
[To Anne.] Even as I hope for pardon at that day
66
When the great Judge of Heaven in scarlet sits,
67
So be thou pardon’d. Though thy rash offence
68
Divorc’d our bodies, thy repentant tears
69
Unite our souls.
70
Charles
Then comfort, Mistress Frankford;
You see your husband hath forgiven your fall.
71
Then rouse your spirits and cheer your fainting soul.
72
Susan
How is it with you?
73
Francis
How d'ye feel yourself?
Anne
Not of this world.
74
Frankford
I see you are not, and I weep to see it.
75
My wife, the mother to my pretty babes—
76
Both those lost names I do restore thee back,
77
And with this kiss I wed thee once again.
78
Though thou art wounded in thy honour’d name,
79
And with that grief upon thy death-bed liest,
80
Honest in heart, upon my soul, thou diest.
81
Anne
Pardon’d on earth, soul, thou in Heaven art free;
82
Once more thy wife—dies thus embracing thee.
83
Frankford
New married, and new widow’d. Oh, she’s dead;
84
And a cold grave must be her nuptial bed.
85
Charles
Sir, be of good comfort; and your heavy sorrow
86
Part equally amongst us. Storms divided
87
Abate their force, and with less rage are guided.
88
Cranwell
Do, Master Frankford; he that hath least part
89
Will find enough to drown one troubled heart.
90
Francis
Peace with thee, Nan. Brothers and gentlemen,
91
All we that can plead interest in her grief,
92
Bestow upon her body funeral tears.
93
Brother, had you with threats and usage bad
94
Punish’d her sin, the grief of her offence
95
Had not with such true sorrow touch’d her heart.
96
Frankford
I see it had not; therefore, on her grave
97
Will I bestow this funeral epitaph,
98
Which on her marble tomb shall be engrav’d.
99
In golden letters shall these words be fill’d:
100
Here lies she whom her husband’s kindness kill’d.
101
Finis
An honest crew, disposed to be merry,
102
Came to a tavern by, and call’d for wine.
103
The drawer brought it, smiling like a cherry,
104
And told them it was pleasant, neat, and fine.
105
‘Taste it,’ quoth one. He did so; ‘Fie,’ quoth he,
106
‘This wine was good; now ‘t runs too near the lee.’
107
Another sipp’d, to give the wine his due,
108
And said unto the rest it drunk too flat;
109
The third said it was old; the fourth, too new;
110
‘Nay,’ quoth the fifth, ‘the sharpness likes me not.’
111
Thus, gentlemen, you see how in one hour
112
The wine was new, old, flat, sharp, sweet, and sour.
113
Unto this wine we do allude our play,
114
Which some will judge too trivial, some too grave.
115
You as our guests we entertain this day,
116
And bid you welcome to the best we have.
117
Excuse us then; good wine may be disgrac’d
118
When every several mouth hath sundry taste.
119