FRANKFORD

I, you may caper, you are light and free, Marriage hath yoked my heals, pray then pardon me. But that I know your virtues and chased thoughts, I should be jealous of your praise sir Charles. Your sister takes not after you sir Francis, All his wild blood your father spent on you, He God her in his age when he grew civil, All his mad tricks were to his land intailed, And you are heir to all: your sister, she Hath to her dower, her mother's modesty. To prevent it, I'll leave you here, to see the dance within. How happy am I amongst other men, That in my mean estate embrace content: I am a Gentleman, and by my birth Comapnion with a King, a Kings no more: I am possessed of many fair revenues, Sufficient to maintain a Gentleman: Touching my mind I am studied in all Arts; The riches of my thoughts and of my time, Have been a good proficient, but the chief, Of all the sweet felicities on earth, I have a fair, a chased, and loving wife, Perfection all, all truth, all ornament, If man on earth may truly happy e, Of these at once possessed: sure I am he. What news sweet wife? what news good M. Wendol ? I thank your pains sir; had the news been better, your will was to have brought it master Wendol, Sir Charles will find hard friends, his case is heinous, And will be most severely censured on; I am sorry for him. Sir a word with you, I know you sir to be a gentleman In all things, your possibilities but mean, Please you to use my table and my purse, They are yours? O sir, disparage not your worth too much, you are full of quality and fair desert, Choose of my men which shall ttend on you, And he is yours, I will allow you sir, your man, your gelding, and your table, All at my own charge, be my companion. To dinner, come sir, from this present day, Welcome to me for ever: come away. Nicklas what make you here? Why are not you At supper in the hall there with your fellows. Be brief then gentle Nicklas, My wife and guests attend me in the parlour: Why dost thou pause? Now Nicklas you want money, And unthrift Like would eat into your wages Ere you have earned it: here sir half a crown, Play the good husband and away to supper. What of this good Nicklas. What preparations this to dismal news? Thou art a knave, and I have much ado With wonted patience to contain my rage And not to break thy pate: thou art a knave, I'll turn you with your base comparisons Out of my doors. I, saucy. Thou hast killed me with a weapon whose sharpened point Hath pricked quite through and through my shivering heart, Drops oh cold sweat fit dangling on my hairs, Like morning's Due upon the golden flowers, And I am plunged into a strange agony, What didst thou say? If any word that touched His Credit or her reputation, It is as hard to enter my belief, As Dives into Heaven. 'Tis probable, though blunt, yet he is honest, Though I durst pawn my life, and on their faith Hazard the dear salvation of my soul, Yet in my trust I may be too secure: May this be true: O may it: can it be: Is it by any wonder possible, Man, woman, what thing mortal may we trust, When friends and bosom wives prove so unjust What instance hast thou of this strange repo to? Thy eyes may be deceiu`worser I tell thee, For should and Angel from the heavens drop dow And preach this to me that thy self hast told, He should have changed ado to win belief In both their loves I am oh confident. No more, to supper, and command your ellowes To attend us and the strangers: not a word, I charge thee on thy life be secret then, For I know nothing. Away, be gone: She is well born, descended Nobly, Virtuous her education, her repute Is in the general voice of all the country Honest and fair, her carriage, her demeanour In all her actions that concern the love To me her husband, modest, chased, and godly. Is all this seeming gold plain Copper. But he; that Judas that hath born my purse, And sold me for a sin, o God, o God; Shall I put up these wrongs? no, shall I trust The bore report of this suspicious groom Before the double gilded, the well hatch over Of their two hearts? No, I will lose these thoughts, Distraction I will banish from my brow, And from my looks exile sad discontent, Their wonted favors in my tongue shall flow, Till I know all, I'll nothing seem to know? Lights and a Table there wife, Master Wendol and gentle Master Cranwell. Marry that will I sweet wife. I do not Like that match. 'Tis no great matter neither, come M. Cranwel shall you and I take them up? I must look to you M. Wendol, for you will be playing false, nay so will my wife to. you shall not find it so: Indeed you shall not? If master wendol and my wife be together, theres no playing against them at double hand. Who ever wins, it shall be to thy cost. If you make honours, one thing let me crave, Honour the King, and Queen: except the knave. A quean thou shouldst say? well the Cards are mine, They are the grossest pair that ere I felt. I have lost my dealing. My minds not on my game, Many a deal I have lost, the Moors your shame, you have served me a bade trick master Wendol ? Thou hast dealt falsely then. Thou robbest me of my soul, of her chased love In thy fall e dealing, thou hast robbed my heart, Booty you play, I Like a looser stand, Having no heart, or here, or in my hand: I will give over the set, I am not well, Come who will hold my Cards? Sir I was lusty, and I had my health, But I grew ill when you began to deal. Take hence this table, gentle master Cranwell You are welcome, see your chamber at your pleasure, I am sorry that this Megrim takes me so I cannot fit and bear you company, Jenkin some lights, and show him to his chamber. I know it master Wendol, Go, go, to bed, least you complain Like me, Wife, prithee wife into my bedchamber, The night is raw, and cold, and rheumatic, Leave me my gown and light, I'll walk away my fit. My self good night. No, gentle wife thou catch cold in thy head, Prithee begone sweet, I'll make hast to bed. To bed then, not to rest, Care lodges in my brain, grief in my breast. Exeunt. This is the night, and I must play the tuch, To try two seeming Angels, wheres my keys? True take it, there it is, And when thou seest me in my pleasantest vain Ready to fit to supper, bring it me. Did not more weighty business of my own Hold me away, I would have laboured peace Betwixt them, with all care, indeed I would sir. Thats you for one, I now you love Sir Charles And my wife too well. But supper he: now as thou love me Wendol Which I am sure thou dost, be merry, pleasant, And f olicke it to night: sweet m ster Cranwell, Do you the Like; wife, I protest my heart was never more bent on sweet alacrity: Where be those lazy knaves to serve in supper? Whence comes it? and who brought it? Have him into the seller, let him taste a cup Of our March beer: go, make him drink. Therefore will I ride, Appointed well, and so shall Neck my man. No by my faith with e, I'll not trust to that, 'Tis not such easy rising in a morning From one I love so dearly: no by my faith, I shall not leave so sweet a bedfellow, But with much pain: you have made me a sluggard Since I first knew you. Fie, fie, that for my private business I should disease my friend, and be a trouble To the whole house: Neck? Bring forth my gelding as you love me sir, Use no more words, a hand good master Cranwel. Goodnight sweet Nan: nay, nay, a kiss, and partly, Dissembling lips, you sum to not with my heart. Soft, soft, we have tied our geldings to a tree two flight shoot off, least by their thundering hoofes they blab our coming back, Hearst thou no noise? So: now my watches hand points upon twelve, And it is dead midnight: where are my keys? This is the key that opens my outward gate, This is the Hall door, this my withdrawing chamber. But this, that door thats Bawd unto my shame: Fountain and spring of all my bleeding thoughts, Where the most hallowed order and true knot Of nuptial sanctity hath been profaned, It leads to my polluted bedchamber, Once my terrestrial heaven, now my earth's hell, The place where sins in all their ripeness dwell: But I forget my self, now to my gate. So reach me my Dam ke La orne to the rest, Tread softly, softly. A general silence hath surprised the house, And this is the last door, astonishment, Fear and amazement, play against my heart, Even as a madman beats upon a drum: Oh keep my eyes you heavens before I enter, From any sighed that may transfix my oule, Or if there be so black a spectacle, O strike mine eyes stark blind, or if not so, Lend me such patience to digest my grief, That I may keep this white and virgin hand From any violent outrage, or read murder, And with that prayer I enter. o me unhappy, I have found them lying Close in each others arms, and fast asleep, But that I would not dam two precious souls Bought with my Saviour's blood, and send them laden With all their scarlet sins upon their backs Unto a fearful Judgement, their two li es Had met upon my rapier. Stay, let me pause a while: O God, o God, that it were possible To undo things done, to call back yesterday; That time could turn up his swift sandy glass, To untell the days, and to redeem these hours: Or that the sun Could rising from the West, draw his coach backward Take from the account of time so many m nutes Till he had all these seasons called again, Those minutes and those actions done in them, Even from her first offence, that I might take her As spotless as and Angel in my arms, But o: I talk of things impossible, And cast beyond the moon, God give me patience, For I will in to wake them. Exit. I thank thee maid, thou Like the Angels hand Hast stayed me from a bloody sacrifice: Go villain, and my wrongs fit on thy soul As heavy as this grief does upon mine: When thou recordst my many courtesies, And shalt compare them with thy treacherous heart, Lay them together, weigh them equally, Twilbe revenge enough, go, to thy friend A Judas, pray, pray, least I live to see Thee Judas Like, hang`worser on and Elder-tree. Spare thou thy tears, for I will weep for thee; And keep thy countenance, for I'll blush for thee; Now I protest I think 'tis I am tainted, For I am most asham`worser, and 'tis more hard For me to look upon thy guilty face, Then on the suns clear brow, what wouldst thou speak? My God with patience arm me: rise, nay rise, And I'll debate with thee: Was it for want Thou plaiedst the strumpet? Wast thou not supplied With every pleasure, fashion, and new toy, Nay even beyond my calling. Was it then dissability in me, Or in thine eye seemed he a properer man? Did I not lodge thee in thy bosom? wear thee Here in my heart. I did indeed, witness my tears I did. Go bring my infants hither: o Nan, o Nan, If either fear of shame, regard of honour, The blemish of my house, no my deer love, could have withheld thee from so lewd a fact: Yet for these infants, these young harmless souls, On whose white brows thy shame is characterd, And grows in greatness as they wax in years, Look but on them, and melt away in tears. Away with them, least as her spotted body Hath stained their names with stripe of bastardy, So her adulterous breath may blast their spirits, With her infectious thoughts: away with them? Stand up, stand up, I will do nothing rashly, I will retire a while into my study, And thou shalt hear thy sentence presently. Exit. Good master Cranwell: woman, hear thy judgement: Go make thee ready in thy best attire, Take with thee all thy gowns, all thy apparel, Leave nothing that did ever call thee mistress. Or by whose sighed being left here in the house I may remember such a woman by, Choose thee a bed and hangings for a Chamber, Take with thee every thing that hath thy mark, And get thee to my Manor seven mile off, Where live, 'tis thine, I freely give it thee, My Tenants by shall furnish thee with wains To carry all thy fluffe, within two hours, No longer will I limit thee my sighed, Choose which of all my servants thou likest best, And they are thine to attend thee. But as thou hopest for heaven, as thou beleeust thy names recorded in the book of life, I charge thee never after this sad day To see me, or to meet me, or to send By word, or writing, gift, or otherwise To move me, by thy self, or by thy friends, Nor challenge any partly in my two children; So farewell Nan, for we will henceforth be As we had never seen, never more shall see. Come take your Coach, your stuff, all must along, Servants and all make ready, all be gone, It was thy hand cut two hearts out of one. Her Lute, o God upon this instrument, Her fingers have run quick division, Sweeter then that which now divides our hearts. These frets have made me pleasant, that have now, Frets of my heartstrings made, o master Cranwell, Oft hath she made this melancholy wood, Now mute and dumb for her disastrous chance, Speak sweedy many a note, found many a strain, To her own ravishing voice which being well strung, What pleasant strange airs have they jointly sung. Post with it after her, now nothings left, Of her, and hers, I am at once bereft. Do as you please how ill am I best and To be a widower ere my wife be dead. How do you woman? That hand once held my heart in faster bonds Then now 'tis gripped by me: God pardon them That made us first break hold. As freely from the low depth of my soul, As my redeemer hath forgiven his death, I pardon thee, I will shed tears for thee, Pray with thee, and in mere pity Of thy weak state, I'll wish to die with thee. Even as I hope for pardon at that day, When the great judge of Heaven in Scarlet sits, So be thou pardoned, though thy rash offence, Diuorsd our Body S, thy repen ant tears Unite our soul . I see you ar not, and I weep to see it, My wife the mother to my pretty Babes, Both those lost names I do restore thee back. And with this kiss I wed thee once again, Though thou art wounded in thy honoured name, And with that grief upon thy deathbed liest, Honest in heart, upon my soul thou diest. New married, and new widowed, o she's dead, And a cold graven must be our Nuptial bed. I see it had not, therefore on her graven, I will bestow this funeral Epitaph, Which on her Marble Tomb shall be engraved, In Golden letters shall these words be filled, Here lies she, whom her husbands kindness killed. Now gallants while the Town Musicians Finger their frets within, and the mad lads And country lasses, every mother's child With nosegays and Bridelaces in their hats, Dance all their Country measures rounds and Iigges, What shall we do? Hark, they are all on the hoygh, They toil Like Mil-horsses, and turn as round; Marry not on the toe, I, and they Caper But without cutting, you shall see to morrow The hall flower peckt and dinted Like a Millstone, Made with their high shoes, though their skill be small, Yet they tread heavy where their Hobnails fallen. My boots and spurs: when es Jenkin? God forgive me How I neglect my business, with e look here, I have a matter to be tried to morrow By eight a clock, and my Attorney writes me I must be there betimes with evidence, Or it will go against me: where my boots? Gods me: no such dispatch? Jenkin my boots, where Neck, saddle my Roan, And the grey dapple for himself: Content you, It much concerns me gentle master Cranwell: And master Wendoll in my absence use The very ripest pleasure of my house. Oh sir to see that nothing may be left That ever was my wives, I loved her dearly, And when I do but think of her unkindness, My thoughts are all in Hell, to avo worser which orment I would not have a Bodkin or a Cum fe, A bracelet, necklace, or Rebato wier, Nor any thing that ever was hers, Left me, by which I might remember her, Seek round about? On horseback. Entreat him to alight, I will attend him: Knowest thou him Neck ? Entreat him in: About it instantly: This Wendoll I have noted, and his carriage Hath pleased me much by observation: I have noted many good deserts in him: He's affable and seen in many things, Discourses w ll, a good companion; And though of small means, yet a Gentleman Of a good house, somewhat pressed by want: I have preferred him to a second place In my opinion, and my best regard. True: with their Hounds and Hawks? Would: and which wone? Why the worse his chance; Perhaps the fortune of some other day, Will change his luck. Now trust me I am sorry for the knight, But is my brother safe? There needs no protestation, for I know you. Virtuous, and therefore grateful: prithee Nan, use him with all thy lovingest courtesy. Content; It shall go hard but I'll take you. 'Tis me they play on: well you may draw out For all your cunning: 'twill be to your shame: I'll teach you at your new Cut, a new game, Come, come. But I know too much bade. My Saints turned Devil: no, weel none of Saint, your best at new Cut wife: yowl play at that. My heart was with you, and my mind was on you; Fie master Cranwel, you are still thus sad: A stool, a stool, where Jenkin, and where Neck? 'Tis supper time at least and hour ago. Whats the best news abroad? My words are registered in heaven already, With patience hear me: I'll not martyr thee, Nor mark thee for a strumpet, but with usage Of more humility torment thy soul, And kill thee, even with kindness. Sweet Nan I prithee go, I have bethought me, get me by degrees The keys of all my doors which I will mould In wax, and take their fair impression, To have by them new keys: This being compassed, At a set hour a letter shall be brought me, And when they think they may securely play, They are nearest to danger: Neck, I must rely Upon thy trust and faithful secrecy. O o.