I bring you better comfort than the sale Of my dowry. Hus. Ha! what's that? Wife. Pray, do not fright me, but vouchsafe me hearing. My uncle, glad of your kindness to me, and mild usage, (For so I made it to him), hath, in pity Of your declining fortunes, provided A place for you at Court of worth and credit, Hus. Out on thee, filth! Over and overjoy'd, when I'm in torment? [Spurning her.] Thou politic whore, subtiler than nine devils! Was this thy journey to Nunck? to set down the history of me, of my state and fortunes? Shall I, that dedicated myself to pleasure, be now confined in service? to crouch and stand, like an old man, in the hams, my hat off? I that could never abide to uncover my head in the church? Base slut! this fruit bear thy complaints. Wife. O! heaven knows That my complaints were praises and best words Of you and your estate. Only, my friends Knew of your mortgag'd lands, and were possess'd Of every accident before I came. If you suspect it but a plot in me To keep my dowry, or for mine own good, Or my poor children's, though it fits a mother To show a natural care in their reliefs, Give me but pleasant looks, and modest words. Hus. Money, whore, money, or I'll [Drawing a dagger. Enter a Servant in haste. What the devil!-How, now! thy hasty news? Ser. May it please you, sir,- Hus. What! may I not look upon my dagger?Speak, villain, or I will execute the point On thee. Quick! short! Ser. Why, sir, a gentleman from the University Stays below to speak with you. [Exit. Hus. From the University? so; University: that long word runs through me. Wife. Was ever wife so wretchedly beset? Had not this news stepp'd in between, the point Had offer'd violence unto my breast. That which some women call great misery Would show but little here, would scarce be seen Among my miseries. I may compare For wretched fortunes with all wives that are. A place of credit a great servitude. What shall become of me and my poor children, Begins to shake this ancient seat to dust. [Exit. The heavy weight of fortune draws my lids [Exit. SCENE IV. Another Apartment in the Same. Enter HUSBAND and the Master of a College. Hus. Please you draw near, sir: you're exceeding wel come. Mast. That's my doubt: I fear I come not to be wel come. Hus. Yes; howsoever. Mast. 'Tis not my fashion, sir, to dwell in long circumstance, but to be plain and effectual: therefore, to the purpose. The cause of my setting forth was piteous and lamentable: that hopeful young gentleman, your brother, whose virtues we all love dearly, through your default and unnatural negligence, lies in bond, executed for your debta prisoner: all his studies amazed, his hope struck dead, and the pride of his youth muffled in these dark clouds of oppression. Hus. Humph! humph! humph! Mast. O! you have killed the towardest hope of all our University: wherefore, without repentance and amends, expect ponderous and sudden judgments to fall grievously upon you. Your brother, a man who profited in his divine employments, and might have made ten thousand souls fit for heaven, is now by your careless courses cast in prison, which you must answer for; and assure your spirit, it will come home at length. Hus. O, God! O! Mast. Wise men think ill of you; others speak ill of you no man loves you; nay, even those whom honesty condemns condemn you. And take this from the virtuous affection I bear your brother: never look for prosperous hour, good thoughts, quiet sleep, contented walks, nor anything that makes man perfect, till you redeem him. What is your answer? How will you bestow him? Upon desperate misery or better hopes?—I suffer till I hear your answer. Hus. Sir, you have much wrought with me: I feel you in my soul: you are your art's master. I never had sense till now your syllables have cleft me. Both for your pains and words, I thank you. I cannot but acknowledge grievous wrongs done to my brother; mighty, mighty, mighty, mighty wrongs.-Within there! [Calling. Enter a Servant. Hus. Fill me a bowl of wine.— [Exit Servant. Alas, poor brother! Bruis'd with an execution for my sake! Mast. A bruise, indeed, makes many a mortal sore, Re-enter the Servant with wine. Hus. Sir, I begin to you: you 've chid your welcome. [Drinking. Mast. I could have wished it better for your sake. I pledge you, sir.—To the kind man in prison. [Drinking. Hus. Let it be so.-Now, sir, if you please to spend but a few minutes in a walk about my grounds below, my man here shall attend you. I doubt not by that time to be furnished of a sufficient answer, and therein my brother fully satisfied. Mast. Good sir, in that the angels would be pleased, [Exeunt Master of the College and Servant. Hus. O, thou confused man! thy pleasant sins have undone thee thy damnation hath beggared thee! That heaven should say we must not sin, and yet made woman! gives our senses away to find pleasure, which being found, confounds us! Why should we know those things so much misuse us? O, would virtue had been forbidden, we should then have proved all virtuous! for 'tis our blood to love what we are forbidden. Had not drunkenness been forbidden, what man would have been fool to a beast, and zany to a swine?-to show tricks in the mire? What is there in three dice to make a man draw three thousand acres into the compass of a little round table; and, with the gentleman's palsy in the hand, shake out his posterity thieves and beggars? 'Tis done: I have done 't i' faith: terrible! horrible misery! How well was I left! Very well, very well. My lands showed like a full moon about me; but now the moon 's in the last quarter—waning, waning; and I am mad to think that moon was mine, mine and my father's, and my forefathers', generations, generations! Down goes the house of us down, down it sinks. Now is the name a beggar, begs in me: that name, which hundreds of years has made this shire famous, in me and my posterity runs out. In my seed five are made miserable besides myself: my riot is now my brother's gaoler, my wife 's sighing, my three boys' penury, and mine own confusion! Why sit my hairs upon my cursed head? [Tearing his hair. |