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Thou and thy bastards beg; I will not bate Hus. So, sir, then she is gone; and so may you
A whit in humour. Midnight, still I love you,
And revel in your company! Curbed in, But let her look the thing be done she wots of,
Shall it be said in all societies,

Or hell will stand more pleasant than her house That I broke custom? that I Aagg'd in- money? At home.

| Erit Servant, No, those thy jewels I will play as freely As when my state was fullest.

Enter a Gentleman. Wife. Be it so.

Gent. Well or ill met, I care not. Hus. Nay I protest, (and take that for an ear- Hus. No, nor I. nest)

Spurns her.

Gent. I am come with confidence to chide you. I will for ever hold thee in contewpt,

Hus. Who? me? And never touch the sheets that cover thee, Chide me? Do't finely then ; let it not move me : But be divorced in bed, till thou consent

For if thou chid'st me angry, I shall strike. Thy dowry shall be sold, to give new life

Gent, Strike thine own foilies, for 'tis they deUnto those pleasures which I most affect.

Wife. Sir, do but turn a gentle eye on me, To be well beaten. We are now in private ; And what the law shall give me leave to do, There's none but thou and I. Thou art fond and You shall command.

peevish; Hus. Look it be done. Shall I want dust, An unclean rioter; thy lands and credit And, like a slave, wear nothing in my pockets Lie now both sick of a consumption:

(Holds his hands in his Pockets. I am sorry for thee. That man spends with shame, But my bare hands, to fill them up with nails? That with his riches doth consume his name; O much against my blood! Let it be done ; And such art thou. I was never made to be a looker on,

Hus. Peace. A bawd to dice; I'll shake the drabs myself, Gent. No, thou shalt hear me further. And make them yield: I say, look it be done. Thy father's and fore-fathers' worthy bonours,

Wife. I take my leave : it shall. (Eril," which were our country monuments, our grace, Hus. Speedily, speedily.

Follies in thee begin now to deface. I hate the very hour I chose a wise:

The spring-time of thy youth did fairly promise Atrouble, trouble! Three children, like three evils, such a most fruitful summer to thy friends, Hang on me. Fie, fie, fie ! Strumpet and bastards ! It scarce can enter into men's beliefs, Enter three Gentlemen.

Such dearth should hang upon thee, We that see

it, Strumpet and bastards !

Are sorry to believe it. In thy change, 1 Gent. Still do these loathsome thoughts jar This voice into all places will be hurid on your tongue?

Thou and the devil have deceived the world. Yourself to stain the honour of your wife,

Hus. I'll not endure thee.
Nobly descended? Those whom men call mad, Gent. But of all the worst,
Endangers others; but he's more than mad Thy virtuous wife, right honourably allied,
That wounds himself; whose own words do pro- Thou hast proclaimed a strumpet.

Hus. Nay, then, I know thee;
Scandals unjust, to soil bis better name.

Thou art her champion, thou; her private friend; It is not fit; I pray, forsake it.

The party you wot on. 2 Gent. Good sir, let modesty reprove you. Gent. O ignoble thought ! 3 Gent. Let honest kindness sway so much with I am past my patient blood. Shall I stand idle, you.

And see my reputation touched to death? Hus. Good den ; I thank you, sir; how do you? Hus. It has galled you, this; has it? Adieu !

Gent. No, monster; I will prove
I am glad to sec you. Farewell instructions, ad My thoughts did only tend to virtuous love.
monitions ! TExeunt Gentlemen. Hus. Lore of her virtues? there it goes.

Gent. Base spirit,
Enter a Serdant.

To lay thy hate upon the fruitful honour
How now, sirrah? What would you ?

Of thine own bed! Ser. Only to certify you, sir, that my mistress

[They fight, and the Husband is hurt, was met by the way, by them who were sent for Hus. Oh! her up to London by her honourable uncie, your Gent. Wilt thou yield it yet? worship's late guardian,

Hus. Sir, sir, I have not done with you.

10 Ezit.-Between this scene and the gext, the lady has travelled from Calverly, in Yorkshire, to London, and from London back again to Calverly; in all about three hundred and eighty-six miles.

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Gent. I hope, nor ne'er shall do.

not now be kind to you, and love you, and che

[They fight again. rish you up, I should think the devil himself kept Hus. Have you got tricks? Are you in cunning open house in him. with me?

Wife. I doubt not but he will. Now pr’ythee Gent. No, plain and right:

leave me; I think I hear him coming. He needs no cunning that for truth doth fight.

Ser. I am gone.

[Erit. (Husband falls down. Wife. By this good means I shall preserve my Hus. Hard fortune! am I levelled with the lands, ground?

And free my husband out of usurers' bands. Gent. Now, sir, you lie at mercy.

Now there's no need of sale; my uncle's kind: Hus. Ay, you slave.

I hope, if aught, this will content his mind.Gent. Alas, that hate should bring us to our Here comes my husband.

grave! You see, my sword's not thirsty for your life:

Enter Husband. I am sorrier for your wound than you yourself. Hus. Now, are you come? Where's the moYou're of a virtunus house ; show virtuous deeds; ney? Let's see the money. Is the rubbish sold? 'Tis not your honour, 'tis your folly bleeds. those wise-acres, your lands?-Why when? The Much good has been expected in your life; money? Where is it? Pour it down; down with Cancel not all men's hopes : you have a wife, it, down with it: I say pour't on the grouud; Kind and obedient; heap not wrongful shame let's see it, let's see it. On her and your posterity; let only sin be sore, Wife. Good sir, keep but in patience, and I And, by this fall, rise, never to fall more. hope my words shall like you well. I bring you And so I leave you.

[Exit. better comfort than the sale of my dowry. Hus. Has the dog left me then,

Hus. Ha! what's that? After bis tooth has left me? O, my heart

Wife. Pray do not fright me, sir, but rouchWould fain leap after hiin! Revenge, I say; safe me hearing. My uncle, glad of your kindness I'm mad to be revenged. My strumpet wise, to me and mild usage, (for so I made it to him,) It is thy quarrel that rips thus my flesh,

hath, in pity of your declining fortunes, provided And makes my breast spit blood ;--but thou shalt a place for you at court, of worth and credit; bleed.

which so much overjoyed me-Vanquished? gnt down? unable even to speak? Hus. Out on thee, filth ! over and overjoyed, Surely 'tis want of money makes men weak: when I am in torment? (Spurns her.] Thou poAy, 'twas that o'erthrew me: I'd ne'er been down litic whore, subtiler than nine devils, was this thy else,

[Erit. I journey to nunck? to set down the history of me,

of my state and fortunes ? Shall I, that dedicated SCENE III.-Another Room in the same.

myself to pleasure, be now confined in service? Enter Wife and a Servant.

to crouch and stand like an old man i'the nams, Ser. 'Taith, mistress, if it might not be pre- my hat off? Ithat could never abiele sumption

my head i'che shereh? Base slut! this fruit bear In me to tell you so, for his excuse

thy complaints. You had small reason, knowing his abuse.

Wife. O, heaven knows Wife. I grant I had; but alas,

That my complaints were praises, and best words Why should our faults at home be spread abroad? Of you and your estate. Only, my friends 'Tis grief enough within doors. At first sight, Knew of your inortgaged lands, and were pasMine uncle could run o'er his prodigal life

sessed As perfectly, as if his serious eye

Of every accident before I came. Hlad numbered all his follies :

If you suspect it but a plot in me Knew of his mortgaged lands, his friends in bonds, To keep my dowry, or for mine own good, Himself withered with debts; and in that minute Or my poor children's, (though it suits a mother Had I added his usage and unkiudness,

To show a natural care in their reliefs,) 'Twould have confounded every thought of good: Yet I'll forget myself to calm your blood : Where now, fathering his riots on his youth, Consume it, as your pleasure counsels you, Which time and tame experience will shake off,

And all I wish even clemency affords; Guessing his kindness to’ine, (as I sinoothed him Give me but pleasant looks, and modest words. With all the skill I had, though his deserts

Hus. Money, whore, money, or I'll--Are in form uglier than an unshaped bear,)

(Draws a Dagger. Hle's ready to prefer bim to some office

Enter a Servant, hastily. And place at court; a good and sure relief To all his stooping fortunes. 'Twill be a means, I What the devil! How now! thy hasty news? hope,

Ser. May it please you, sirTo make new league between us, and redeem Hus. What! may I not look upon my dagger? His virtues with his lands.

Speak, villain, or I will execute the point on thee : Ser. I should think so, mistress. If he should | Quick, short,

my sake!


Ser. Why, sir, a gentleman from the university | feel you in my soul: you are your art's master. I stays below to speak with you.

(E.cit. never had sense till now; your syllables have cleft Hus. From the university? so; university ine. Both for your words and pains I thank you. that long word runs through ine. [Erit. I cannot but acknowledge grievous wrongs done

Wife. Was ever wife so wretchedly beset? to my brother; mighty, mighty, mighty, mighty Had not this news stepp'd in between, the point wrongs .--Within, there. Had offered violence unto iny breast. That which some wornen call great inisery,

Enter Servant. Would show but little here; would scarce be seen Hus. Fill me a bowl of wine. [Erit Servant.] Among my nuiseries. I may compare

Alas, poor brother, bruised with an execution for For wretched fortunes, with all wives that are. Nothing will please him, until all be nothing. Mast. A bruise indeed makes many a mortal He calls it slavery, to be preferred;

sore, A place of credit, a base servitude.

Till the grave cure them.
What shall become of me, and my poor children,
Two here, and one at nurse? my pretty beggars !

Re-enter Servant with Wine.
I see how Ruin, with a palsied band,

Hus. Sir, I begin to you ; you've chid your Begins to shake this ancient seat to dust :

welcome. The heavy weight of sorrow draws my lid

Mast. I could have wished it better for your Over my dankish eyes : I can scarce see; sake. I pledge you, sir :--To the kind man in Thus grief will last;---it wakes and sleeps with prison.

(Erit. Hus. Let it be so. Now, sir, if you please to

spend but a few minutes in a walk about my SCENE IV.--- Another Apartment in the same. grounds below, my man here shall attend you. I Enter Husband, and the Master of a College.

doubt not but by that time to be furnished of a

sufficient answer, and therein my brother fully saHus. Please you draw near, sir; you're ex

tisfied, ceeding welcome.

Mast. Good sir, in that the angels would be Mast. That's my doubt; I fear I come not to pleased, be welcome.

And the world's murmurs calmed; and I should Hus. Yes, howsoever.

say, Mast. 'Tis not my fashion, sir, to dwell in long I set forth then upon a lucky day. circumstance, but to be plain and effectual;

[Exeunt Master and Servant. therefore to the purpose. The cause of my set- Hus. O thou confused man ! Thy pleasant sins ting furth was piteous and lamentable. "That have undone thee; thy damnation has beggared hopeful young gentleman, your brother, whose thee. That heaven should say we must not sin, virtues we all love dearly, through your default and yet made women! give our senses way to and unnatural negligence lies in bond executed find pleasure, which, being found, confounds us ! for your debt,---a prisoner; all his studies ama- Why should we know those things so much miszed, his hope struck dead, and the pride of his use us ? O, would virtue had been forbidden ! We youth muffled in these dark clouds of oppression. should then have proved all virtuous; for 'tis our Hus. Umph, umph, umph !

blood to love what we are forbidden. Had not Must. O you have killed the towardest hope of drunkenness been forbidden, what man would all our university: wherefore, without repentance have been fool to a beast, and zany to a swine --and amends, expect ponderous and sudden judge to show tricks in the mire ? What is there in ments to fall grievously upon you. Your brother, three dice, to make a man draw thrice three a man who profited in his divine einployments, thousand acres into the compass of a little round and might have made ten thousand souis fit for table, and, with the gentleman's palsy in the hand, heaven, is now, by your careless courses, cast into shake out his posterity thieves or beggars ? 'Tis prison, which you must answer for; and assure done; I have don't i'faith: terrible, horrible miyour spirit it will come home at length.

sery !---How well was I left! Very well, very Hus. O God! oh!

well. My lands show'd like a full moon about me; Mast. Wise men think ill of you ; others speak but now the moon's in the last quarter---waniny, ill of you; no man loves you; nay, even those waning; and I am mad to think that moon was whom honesty condemns, condemn you : Andmine; mine and my father's, and my fore-fathers'; take this from the virtuous affection I bear your generations, generations.--Down goes the house brother; never look for prosperous hour, good of us; down, down it sinks. Now is the name a thoughts, quiet sleep, contented walks, nor any beggar; hegs in me. That name, which hundreds thing that makes man perfect, till you redeem of years has made this shire famous, in me and him. What is your answer? How will you bestow my posterity, runs out. In my seed five are made hiin? Upon desperate misery, or better hopes ?--- miserable besides myself: my riut is now my I suffer till I hear your answer.

brother's gaoler, my wife's sighing, my three boys? Hus. Sir, you have souch wrought with me; I penury, and inine own contusion.

Why sit my hairs upon my cursed head? Good your honour, by a coach; no, nor your bro

[Tears his hair. ther : Will not this poison scatter them " 0, iny bro- 'Tis charity to brain you. ther's

Son. How shall I learn, now my head's broke? In execution among devils that

Hus. Bleeil, bleed,

[Stabs him. Stretch him and make him give; " and I in want, Rather than beg. Be not thy name's disgrace : Not able for to live, nor to redeein him! Spurn thou thy fortunes first; if they be base, Divines and dying men may talk of hell, Come, view thy second brother's. Fates ! iny But in my heart her several torments dwell ;"3

children's blood Slavery and misery. Who, in this case,

Shall spin into your faces; you shall see,
Would not take up money upon his soul? How confidently we scorn beggary!
Pawp his salvation, live at interest ?

[Erit with his Son. I, that did ever in abundance dwell, For me to want, exceeds the throes of hell,14

SCENE V.-A Maid discovered with a Child Enter a little Boy, with a Top and a Scourge.

in her arms; the Mother on a Couch by her,

asleep. Son. What ail you, fatber? Are you not well? I cannot scourge my top as long as you stand so. Maid. Sleep, sweet babe; sorrow makes thy You take up all the room with your wide legs.--

mother sleep : Puh! you cannot make me afraid with this; 1It bodes small good when heaviness falls so deep. fear no vizards, nor bugbears."

Hush, pretty boy; thy hopes might have been [He takes up the Child by the skirts of

his long Coat with one hand, and 'Tis lost at dice, what ancient honour won :

draws his Dagger with the other. Hard, when the father plays away the son! Hus. Up, sir, for here thou hast no inheritance Nothing but Misery serves in this house;"> left. 16

Ruin and desolation, Oh! Son. O, what will you do, father? I am your white boy.

Enter Husband, with his Son, bleeding. Hus. Thou shalt be my red boy; take that. Hus. Whore, give me that boy. [Strikes him.

(Strives with her for the Child. Son. O, you hurt me, father.

Maid. O help, help! Out alas ! murder, murHus. My eldest beggar,

der! Thou shalt not live to ask an usurer bread; Hus. Are you gossiping, you prating, sturdy To cry at a great man's gate; or follow,


" Why sit my hairs upon my cursed head ?

Will not this poison scatter them ?-Alluding to the effects of some kinds of poison. So in Leicester's Commonwealth : " yet was he like to have lost his life, but escaped in the end (being yong) with the losse onely of his haire.” The author is here speaking of a page who had tasted a potion prepared by Leicester for the earl of Essex.---STEEVENS. 12 And make him give.-Leather when stretched is said to give. MALONE.

13 Divines and dying men may talk of hell,
But in my heart her several torments dwell.—Thus in Rowe's Tamerlane :

the restless damn'd
(If muflies lye not) wander thus in hell."-STEEVENS.
14 1, that did ever in abundance diell,

For me to want erceeds the throes of hell.—The same aggravation of the miseries occasioned by unexpected poverty, is introduced in Timon :

“ But myself,
“ That had the world as my confectionary-

“ I to bear this

“ That never knew but better, is some sufferance."-STEEVENS. ." I fear no vizards nor bugbears.--This is a natural circumstance. The child mistakes the distortions of real passion, for grimaces exhibited only with a sportive intention to fright him.-STEEVENS.

16 Up, sir, for here thou hast no inheritance left.-He means, I believe, that his child having nothing left on earth, he will send him to heaven.---MALONE. "? Nothing but Mise, y serves in this hous:.-In K. Henry VIII. we have a similar personification :

" And Danger serves among them."-STEEVENS.


I'll break your clamour with your neck. Down

Wife. O God! stairs;

Hus. Have at his heart. Tumble, tumble, headlong. So :-

[Stabs at the Child in her arms. [He throws her down, and stabs the Wife. O, my dear boy! Child.

Hus. Brat, thou shalt not live to shame thy The surest way to charm a woman's tongue,

houseIs---break her neck: a politician did it."

Wife, Oh heaven! Son. Mother, mother; I am killed, mother!

[She is hurt, and sinks down. [Wife awakes. Hus. And perish -Now be gone : Wife. IIa, who's that cried !- me! my chil. There's whores enough, and want would make dren !

thee one. Both, both, bloody, bloody! [Catches up the youngest Child.

Enter a Servant. Hus. Strumpet, let go the boy; let go the beggar.

Ser. O sir, what deeds are these? Wife. O my sweet husband !

Hus. Base slave, my vassal! Hus. Filth, harlot.

Com'st thou between my fury to question me? Wife. O, what will you do, dear husband? Ser. Were you the devil, I would

hold you, sir.. Hus. Give me the bastard.

Hus. Hold me? Presumption ! I'll undo thee Wife. Your own sweet boy

for it. Hüs. There are too many beggars.

Ser. 'Sblood, you have undone us all, sir. Wife. Good iny husband--

Hus. Tug at thy mastos? Hus. Dost thou prevent me still?

Ser. Tug at a monster.

18 To charm a woman's tongue.-To silence her.—MALONE.

19 Break her neck: a politician did it.—The satire in this passage is undoubtedly personal. The politician alluded to was queen Elizabeth's favourite, the earl of Leicester, the death of whose first wife is thus described in the celebrated libel entitled his Commonwealth. This work is attributed to Parsons the Jesuit, though sir William Cecil, lord Burleigh, is suspected of having furnished his materials. It was first printed abroad in the year 1584, and was circulated with malicious industry by means of multiplied editions, throughout our kingdom, and through others by repeated translations into various languages.

“ The death of Leicester's first lady and wife." “For first his lordship hath a speciall fortune, that when he desireth any woman's favour, then what person so ever standeth in his way, bath the luck to dye quickly for the finishing of his desire. As for example, when his lordship was in full hope to marry her inajesty, and his owne wife stood in his light, as he supposed; he did but send ber aside to the house of his servant Forster of Cumner by Oxford, where shortly after she bad the chance to fall from a paire of staires, and so to breake her neck, but yet without burting of her hood that stood upon her head But sir Richard Varney, who by commandment remained with her that day alone, with one man onely, and had sent away perforce all her servants from her to a market two miles off, he (I say) with his man, can tell how she died, which man being taken af. terward for a felony in the marches of Wales, and offering to publish the manner of the said murder, was made away privily in the prison : and sir Richard himself dying about the same time in London, cried pitiously and blasphemed God, and said to a gentleman of worship of mine acquaintance, not long before his death, that all the devils in hell did teare him in pieces. The wife also of Bald Butler, kinsman to my lord, gave out the whole fact a little before her death. But to return unto my purpose, this was my lord's good fortune to have his wife dye, at that time when it was like to turne most to his profit."

When this book was republished for reasons of policy, in 1641, a metrical monologue, called Leicester's Ghost, was appended to it, and there likewise the same fact is recorded. The following quotation is from a more perfect and ample MS. copy of the same poem.

My first wife she fell downe a paire of staires
And brake her necke, and so at Conmore dyed,
“ Whilst her true servants led with small affaires,
“ Unto a fayre at Abbingdon did ride;
“ This dismall happ did to my wife betyde:

“ Whether ye call yt chance or destinie,

“ Too true yt is, she did untimely dye.” Lest it should be objected to the probability of Shakespeare's having written the Yorkshire Tragedy, that he would not, on account of his intimacy with the friend of Essex, have treated the memory of

Leicester with so much freedom, let me add, that the former was executed in 1600, and our author was | therefore left at full liberty to adopt the common sentiments relative to this great but profligate states




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