THOMASINE

Were these fit words think you to be sent to any Citizens wise, to enjoy the Daughter, and love the mother too for a need? I would foully scorn that man, that should love me only for a need I tell you: and here the Knave writes again, that by the marriage of my Daughter, a has the better means and opportunity to my self, he lies in his Throat Like a villain, he has no opportunity of me, for all that, 'tis for his betters to have opportunity of me, and that he shall well know—a base proud knave—a has forgotten how he came up, & brought two of his country men to give their words to my husband for a suit of green Karsey, a has forgotten all this, and how does he appear to me, when his white Satin suttes on, but Like a Magot crept out of a Nut shell, a fair body and a foul neck, those parts that are continued uered of him, looks indifferent well, because we cannot see e'm else for all his cleansing, pruning and paring, he's not worthy a Brokers Daughter, and so tell him. And as for my Child, I hope sheele be ruled in Time, though she be foolish yet & not be carried away with a cast of Manchets, a Bottle of wine, or a Custard, and so I pray certify him. Art thou his Ant—or his— Faith and thou Wertenberg his Mother, he would make thee his drudge I warrant him. Only commendations sent from Master Lethe your worshipful Son in law that should be. Why, first he is a Gentleman. That makes so few of e'm marry with our Daugh ters, unless it be one green foot or other next, M. Rerage has land & living, tother but his walk i'th street, & his snatch king diet, he's able to entertain you in a fair house of his own, tother in some nook or corner, or place us behind the cloth Like a company of Pup S: at his house you shall be served curiously, fit down & eat your meat with leisure, there we must be glad to take it standing, & without either salt, cloth, or trencher, and say we are befriended too. Well, since i'm so expressly forbidden, isle watch a above ith gallery, but isle see your knavery. Hold there deer Gentleman. Now is he quarting out the Executioner. Strides over him: with his own blood he writes: I am no Dame that can endure such sights. You may have a stronger commission for the next, an't please you, that's from my self. Beshrew my blood, a proper, springfull, and a sweet Gentleman. O my Husband. Here Wenefride, here, here, here, I have all ways found thee secret. Take this letter and this Ring. O how all the parts about me shake,—inquire for one Master Easy at his old lodging 'ith the Blackfry ers, Tell him the party that sent him a hundred pound tother day to continued ̄ fort his heart, ha likewise sent him this Let ter and this Ring, which has that virtue to recover him again for ever say—name no body Winifride. Good Girl, thou shalt have a mourning Gown at the burial of mine honesty. I do account my self the happiest Widow that ever counterfeited weeping, in that I have the leisure now, both to do that Gentleman good, and do my self a plea sure, but I must seem Like a hanging Moonea little waterish a while. Oh Master Rerage, I have lost the dearest husband that ever woman did enjoy. O talk not to me of patience and you love me, good Master Rerage. Nay, that's true indeed Master Rerage, he never used me so well as a woman might have been used, that's certain in troth ta's been our greatest falling out sir, and though it be the partly of a widow, to show her self a woman for her Husbands death, yet when I remember all his unkindness, I cannot weep a stroke i'faith Master Rerage, and there before wisely did a great widow in this land, comfort up another, go too Lady (quoth she) leave blubbering, thou thinkest upon thy husbands good parts when thou sheddest tears, do but remember how often he ha lain from thee, and how many naughty slippery turns he has done thee, & thou wilt never weep for him I warrant thee—you would not think how that counsel ha wrought with me Master Rerage, I could not dispend another tear now, and you would give me never so much. Troth and so it was to mine, but take courage now, you're a Landed Gentleman, & my Daughter is seven hun dreaded pound strong to join with you. The worst is passed I hope. Lend me your hand sweet Couze I have troubled you I have always pitied you. Delay not now, y'aue understood my love, I have a priest ready, this is the fittest season, no eye offends us, Let this kiss Restore thee to more wealth, me to more bliss. Now my desires wear crowns. O, behold the Villain, who in all those shapes Confounded your estate. Hate you that office, What happiness was here, but are you sure you have all? Did he want all, who would not love his care? Now Beadle. You come for your endue Beadle, here 'ith house. I must crave a discharge from you Beadle. You deal the truel year. George, here is the Beadle come for his money, draw a Memorandum that he has received all his endue he can claim here ith house after this funeral. Inquire my right name again next time, now go your ways Like and Ass as you came. Here's somewhat for thy pains, fare thee well. Why I hope I may sitith shop, may I not? Why stand I here (as late our graceless Dams That found no eyes) to see that Gentleman All we in state and cred Help to rip up himself do's all he can, Why am I wife to him that is no man? I suffer in that Gentleman's confusion. The more I grieve: Not only vild, but in it tyrannous. Master Easy? 'tis, o what shift shall I make now? o— O, I shall be well anon. Cozen, how do you? What difference there is in Husbands, not only in one thing, but in all. Ninteene, twenty five pound, 1, 2, 3, & 4. worser. The Beadles endue here sir What is the Beadle drunk or mad? Where are my men to thrust him out a doors. This fellow must be whipped. Nay sweet husband. O, he's as Like my tother husband as can be. The Judge that heel solicit knows me well. Oh heaven! Let him lie still, You shall tread over him or isle fail in will. My most sweet love. Thou art deceiu worser thy misery but begins, "To beguile goodness, is the coare of sins. My love is such unto he, that I die As often as thou drinkest up Yet have no means to warn thee from't, for he "That sows in Craft, doe's rape in Jealousy.