Actus
.
I.
Enter
Master
Wilding
;
and
Mistris
Penelope
.
_WIld.
What
neede
you
be
so
coy
now
?
Pen.
Pray
collect
Your selfe
,
remember
what
you
are
,
and
whose
You
have
a
vertuous
gentlewoman
,
thinke
Upon
your
faith
to
her
.
Wi.
Thinke
of
a
Fiddle-sticke
.
While
you
put
me
in
minde
of
what
I
am
,
You
quite
forget
your selfe
:
my
wife
I
allow
Your
kinswoman
farre
off
,
to
whom
a
widdow
Your
father
left
you
,
with
a
handsome
fortune
,
Which
by
her
marriage
,
I
have
in
possession
,
And
you
too
;
therefore
as
you
hope
to
be
In
due
time
worth
a
husband
,
thinke
upon
't
:
I
can
deserve
respect
,
then
wisely
use
me
,
As
you
would
keepe
me
.
Pene.
This
is
but
a
triall
Of
my
strength
,
for
I
know
you
have
more
charity
,
(
Should
I
consent
)
then
Ship-wracke
your
owne
honor
.
But
take
heede
sir
,
how
you
proceede
to
jest
With
frailty
,
least
too
much
disordering
Your
good
thoughts
,
you
forget
and
by
degrees
,
Loose
your
owne
innocence
.
Wi.
I
jest
?
you
'ld
have
me
sweare
,
and
yet
you
should
not
thinke
it
such
a
wonder
:
to
love
:
come
,
shake
off
this
frost
,
it
spoiles
thee
;
your
nature
should
be
soft
,
and
flexible
;
perhaps
thou
thinkst
,
I
doe
not
love
thee
hartily
,
I
know
not
how
to
give
thee
better
testimony
,
then
by
offering
my selfe
to
thee
if
my
wife-die
,
as
tenn
to
one
shee
's
not
immortall
,
we
may
couple
tother
way
.
Pene.
What
argument
is
this
to
assure
the
truth
of
your
affection
to
me
,
that
breake
your
vowes
to
her
?
Wi.
Oh!
great
argument
,
and
you
observe
:
she
was
a
widdow
when
I
married
her
,
thou
art
a
yong
maide
,
and
handsome
.
Pene.
Can
you
be
so
ingratefull
,
to
punish
whom
you
should
reward
,
remember
sir
,
shee
brought
you
that
wealth
you
have
.
tooke
you
from
nothing
�
Wi.
Ther
's
reason
then
for
nothing
I
should
love
her
:
hang
her
estate
,
I
was
held
a
proper
man
,
and
in
that
point
,
deserv'd
her
,
and
shee
had
millions
:
and
I
were
free
again
.
I
would
not
draw
i'
th
teame
of
marriage
for
ten
subsidyes
not
to
command
a
Province
.
Pene.
Yet
you
said
,
were
your
wife
dead
you
'd
marry
me
.
Wi.
Onely
thee
,
and
no body
else
.
Pene.
'T
were
dangerous
to
:
have
many
.
Wi.
To
have
one
,
is
little
lesse
then
madnes
;
come
,
wo't
promise
?
Enter
Mistris
Wilding
.
Pene.
What
?
Wi.
A
course
,
you
know
my
meaning
.
Mi.
I
doe
not
like
this
whispering
,
why
with
her
So
close
in
parly
?
Wi.
Wo't
thou
doe
this
feate
for
me
?
'T
is
finish'd
in
a
paire
of
minuts
.
Pene.
Yes
,
upon
one
condition
.
Wi.
What
condition
?
Pe.
That
your
wife
give
consent
,
you
shall
then
command
me
.
Wi.
I
'le
undertake
to
goe
a
pilgrimage
To
Ierusalem
,
and
returne
sooner
:
wood
I
did
not
love
thee
,
love
thee
infinitely
,
That
's
all
,
'
two
not
doe
�
My
wife
,
I
hope
.
Exit
Pene.
Shee
has
not
eav's-dropd
,
us
;
what
pitty
t
is
She
cannot
finde
the
way
to
Heaven
;
I
should
not
Trouble
her
in
hast
,
these
wives
will
have
no
conscience
,
But
sticke
to
us
everlastingly
.
Now
Lady
,
How
did
your
monkey
rest
last
night
,
you
looke
As
you
had
not
done
your
prayers
yet
,
I
wonot
disturbe
you
.
Mi.
Pray
sir
stay
,
let
me
but
know
Some
reason
why
you
use
me
thus
unkindly
?
If
I
have
beene
gilty
of
offence
,
I
am
not
Past
hope
,
but
with
the
knowledge
of
my
error
,
'T
is
possible
I
may
amend
,
and
please
you
.
Wi.
I
doe
not
like
you
.
Mi.
You
did
marrie
me
.
Wi,
Yes
,
I
did
marrie
you
;
her
's
too
much
record
for
't
,
I
would
there
were
a
Parson
to
unmarry
us
,
If
any
of
our
Clergie
had
that
faculty
,
He
might
repaire
the
old
;
and
build
as
many
New
Abbeyes
through
the
Kingdome
in
a
tweluemonth
.
Shall
I
speake
truth
?
I
never
much
affected
thee
,
I
married
thee
for
thy
soules
sake
,
not
thy
body
,
And
shall
as
soone
get
children
on
't
:
and
yet
I
doe
not
hate
thee
,
witnesse
,
I
dare
kisse
,
Hold
thee
by
the
hand
,
and
sleepe
in
the
same
house
,
And
in
thy
bed
sometimes
,
something
ha's
beene
done
.
Mi.
Within
the
memorie
of
man
,
but
�
What
sir
?
Wi
You
have
a
scurvy
quality
wife
,
I
told
you
on
't
.
Mi.
Once
more
,
and
I
'le
correct
it
.
Wi.
You
are
given
to
be
jealous
,
I
cannot
Ramble
abroad
in
gentlemens
company
Whole
dayes
,
ly
out
a nights
,
but
you
suspect
I
am
wanton
,
't
is
ill
done
,
it
becomes
no
modest
Woman
:
that
loves
her
husband
,
to
be
jealous
,
What e're
she
see
,
or
heares
,
mend
,
mend
this
fault
,
You
doe
not
know
,
how
it
may
worke
upon
me
.
Some
wife
will
bid
her
husbands
leverets
welcome
,
Keepe
house
together
,
and
provide
cleane
sheets
,
And
cullices
to
fortifie
;
you
neere
did
it
:
Know
her
owne
Chamber
and
not
come
forth
Till
she
be
sent
for
;
if
her
husband
kisse
her
,
Sometimes
,
allow
her
clothes
and
other
trinkets
,
Suffer
her
carve
at
Table
,
she
is
satisfied
,
And
none
o'
th
parish
talke
,
she
carries
it
So
handsomlie
:
these
moralls
I
have
read
Before
now
,
but
you
put
them
not
in
practise
,
Nor
for
ought
I
perceive
,
have
disposition
too
't
,
Therefore
I
'le
take
my
course
.
Mi.
To
shew
I
can
Be
obedient
to
my
griefes
,
from
this
time
,
sir
,
I
wonot
urge
with
one
unwelcome
syllable
,
How
much
I
am
neglected
,
I
'le
conceale
it
Too
from
the
world
,
your
shame
must
needs
be
mine
.
I
see
you
doe
not
love
me
,
where
your
heart
Hath
plac'd
a
worthier
thought
,
let
it
dwell
ever
,
Freely
persue
your
pleasures
,
I
will
have
No
passion
that
shall
mutinie
,
you
are
,
And
shall
be
Lord
of
me
still
.
Wi.
I
like
this
,
if
it
be
no
disguise
.
Mi.
Do
not
suspect
me
,
I
would
sweare
by
a
kisse
,
if
you
vouchsafe
it
,
You
shall
not
keepe
a
servant
,
that
shall
be
more
humble
.
Wi.
And
obedient
to
my
will
?
Mi.
In
all
things
.
Wi.
But
if
I
bring
home
a
mistresse
?
Mi.
I
'le
call
her
sister
.
Wi.
What
if
there
be
one
Already
,
that
does
please
me
,
will
you
not
Repine
,
and
looke
awry
upon
's
,
when
we
Make
much
of
one
another
?
Mi.
So
you
will
but
sometimes
smile
on
me
too
,
I
'le
indeavour
.
Wi.
Well
said
,
this
may
doe
good
upon
me
,
as
I
finde
you
prompt
in
this
,
I
may
consider
Other
matters
:
to
tell
you
true
,
I
love
Your
kinswoman
.
Mi.
How
?
Wi.
I'
th
way
you
wot
on
,
but
I
finde
her
cold
and
peevish
,
how
she
maie
Be
brought
about
I
know
not
,
't
would
shew
well
,
And
be
a
president
for
other
wives
,
If
you
would
put
your
helpe
too
't
.
Mi.
Goodnes
blesse
me
.
Wi.
One
woman
with
another
can
doe
more
In
such
a
cause
,
then
twentie
men
.
I
doe
not
Wander
,
you
see
,
out
of
the
blood
,
this
will
Be
a
way
to
justifie
your
obedience
.
Mi.
You
shew
a
tyrant
now
,
and
stead
of
framing
My
soule
to
patience
,
murder
both
.
Exit
.
Wi.
I
have
gone
too
farre
a
conscience
;
this
may
Spoile
all
,
and
now
I
thinke
upon
't
,
I
was
A
coxcombe
to
discover
any
party
,
I
must
deny
't
againe
,
and
carry
things
More
closelie
.
How
now
Will
?
Enter
Hazard
.
Ha.
How
now
Will
?
's
that
all
?
Looke
up
,
and
aske
me
a
question
like
a�
man
,
What
melancholy
?
Wi.
No
,
no
;
a
toy
,
a
trifle
.
Ha.
That
should
be
a
woman
,
who
'
st
thou
art
thinking
on
?
I
have
beene
of
your
counsell
.
Wi.
I
was
thinking
,
o'
my
Wife
�
Ha.
I
met
her
sadd
.
Wi.
I
cannot
blame
her
;
We
have
had
a
dialogue
;
come
,
thou
know'st
my
bosome
,
Ha.
when
do'st
meane
to
lie
with
her
?
Wi.
I
know
not
,
but
I
have
offer'd
faire
conditions
:
Shee
is
very
confident
,
I
doe
not
dote
Upon
her
beauty
,
I
have
told
her
,
sirra
,
I
love
her
kinswoman
.
Ha.
Y'
are
not
so
mad
.
Wi.
The
worlds
deceav'd
in
her
,
shee
le
give
me
leave
,
To
ramble
where
I
list
,
and
feede
upon
What
best
delights
my
appetite
.
Ha.
He
that
has
An
ambition
to
be
strangled
in
his
sleepe
,
May
tell
his
wife
he
loves
another
woman
.
Wi.
But
I
was
not
content
with
this
,
because
The
other
wench
was
somewhat
obstinate
,
I
must
needs
urge
my
wife
,
to
mollifie
And
mold
her
,
for
my
purpose
.
Ha.
And
she
consented
too
?
Wi.
No
't
would
not
doe
.
This
went
against
her
stomacke
and
we
parted
.
Ha.
Next
time
you
see
her
,
looke
to
be
presented
With
your
mistresses
nose
for
this
,
do'st
thinke
a
woman
Can
be
so
patient
,
to
know
her
rivall
I'
th
same
roofe
,
and
leave
her
eyes
,
to
see
thee
Agen
?
I
am
sorry
for
thee
.
Wi.
I
am
confident
Shee
dare
not
:
but
for
all
that
,
would
I
had
Beene
lesse
particular
.
Ha.
Come
,
I
love
thee
well
,
But
not
thy
wit
,
to
carry
things
no
handsomer
:
You
must
unravell
agen
,
and
make
your
wife
Beleeve
you
did
but
try
her
.
How
now
,
what
's
the
newes
here
?
Enter
Officers
with
Delamore
wounded
.
1
Off.
Quickly
to
a
Surgeon
,
beare
him
gently
.
Ha.
What
's
the
businesse
.
2
Off.
Nothing
,
sir
,
but
a
gentleman
is
kild
,
and
we
are
Carrying
him
to
a
Surgeon
.
Wi.
T
is
Jacke
Delamore
,
he
is
not
dead
.
Ha.
Who
hurt
him
?
Ha.
Master
Beamont
;
we
cannot
stay
,
sir
.
Wi.
Why
they
were
friends
.
2
Off.
But
wine
made
them
fall
out
,
some
say
,
about
Their
Mistresses
.
Wi.
I
did
expect
a
woman
at
one
end
on
't
.
What
miserable
fooles
are
men
,
to
kill
One
another
for
these
Cockatrices
!
Ha.
I
am
sorry
for
poore
Beamont
.
Wi.
It
would
be
long
ere
any
mistresse
would
Be
so
desperate
for
her
servant
,
this
is
valur
,
High
and
mighty
valor
.
Ha.
Men
must
preserve
Their
honors
man
,
thou
dost
not
know
their
quarrell
?
Wi.
Thou
art
held
a
peece
of
a
kill-Cow
too
,
looke
too
't
before
the
sessions
take
an
order
w'
ee
:
i
st
not
a
great
deale
safer
,
now
to
skermish
with
a
Peticote
,
and
touze
a
handsome
wench
in
private
;
then
be
valiant
in
the
streets
,
and
kisse
the
Gallowes
for
't
?
hang
,
hang
this
foolerie
,
let
gentlemen
rather
live
,
and
pay
their
Tailors
,
then
let
their
clothes
enrich
the
hangmans
wardrobe
.
Ha.
But
skermishing
as
you
call
it
,
with
the
Peticote
,
Is
by
some
,
held
away
to
this
preferment
,
Your
wenches
ha
beene
sticklers
,
and
some
men
Dropt
in
their
quarrell
.
Wi.
Let
them
be
such
coxcombs
They
cannot
die
too
soone
;
cannot
I
have
A
Lady
of
pleasure
,
but
to
please
her
humour
,
I
must
be
engag'd
to
fight
and
kill
men
for
her
?
Because
her
healths
refus'd
,
anothers
nose
Or
teeth
preferrd
,
substantiall
grounds
for
murder
,
We
spend
our
blood
too
much
another
way
;
Consumption
take
me
,
if
I
fight
for
one
on
'em
,
I
will
drinke
single
beere
first
,
and
live
honest
,
Gentlemen
are
come
to
a
fine
passe
,
doe
not
you
Thinke
but
t
is
possible
,
I
may
fight
for
all
this
?
Ha.
There
may
be
causes
,
that
have
women
in
'em
,
But
I
confesse
,
no
polecats
,
or
lewd
strumpets
,
Though
I
doe
use
the
tricke
o'
th
flesh
,
shall
drive
Me
to
the
Surgeon
;
I
had
a
mother
.
Wi.
And
I
have
a
wife
,
would
thou
had'st
her
.
Ha.
No
,
No
,
she
is
well
as
shee
is
,
There
may
be
honor
to
defend
these
.
Wi.
Sometimes
.
Ha.
But
ther
's
a
mischiefe
greater
then
all
these
A
base
and
sorded
provocation
,
Us'd
among
gentlemen
,
they
cannot
quarrell
About
a
glasse
of
Wine
,
but
our
files
streigth
Sonne
of
a
whore
,
dead
mothers
must
be
torne
,
Out
of
their
graves
,
or
living
,
have
their
names
Poysoned
by
a
prodigious
breath
:
it
were
A
brave
and
noble
Law
,
to
make
this
tongue
Be
cut
for
't
,
it
wod
save
much
blood
i
th
yeere
,
That
might
be
spent
more
honorablie
.
Wi.
The
lie
grew
a
dull
provocation
,
this
has
quickn'd
us
,
but
leave
this
common
place
,
thou
canst
not
helpe
it
,
let
ts
talke
of
something
else
.
Stay
is
not
this
Beaumont
?
Enter
Beaumont
,
and
Officers
.
Ha.
Apprehended
,
alas
poore
gentleman
;
how
now
Ned
?
Bea.
As
you
see
gentlemen
,
cald
to
my
account
.
Wi.
We
heard
a
peece
of
the
misfortune
,
but
Be
not
dejected
,
he
may
live
.
Bea.
I
feare
it
.
Pray
lead
me
where
you
please
,
alas
.
Violante
!
this
newes
will
wound
thee
too
.
Exit
.
Wi.
I
'le
with
him
,
and
know
the
story
.
Ha.
T
will
but
trouble
me
I
can
doe
him
no
service
,
beside
that
,
I
am
engag'd
to
meete
old
Master
Barnacle
.
Enter
Acre-lesse
,
Little-stocke
,
and
Sell-away
Whither
,
whither
Gentlemen
,
with
your
swords
drawne
?
Acr.
Doest
not
see
a
gentleman
led
to
Prison
?
Wee
'le
reskue
him
from
the
Officers
,
come
joyne
with
us
:
We
shall
draw
more
to
the
cause
.
Ha.
You
doe
not
meane
this
rashnes
:
hide
your
swords
be
advis'd
better
;
D'
ee
know
his
fact
?
Lit.
He
has
slaine
a
gentleman
.
Sel.
They
say
he
is
not
dead
,
the
wounds
not
mortall
.
Ha.
And
will
you
make
one
past
cure
?
Acr.
How
do'st
meane
?
Ha.
Upon
your selves
,
coole
your
hot
bloods
a
little
,
No
mutuny
my
country
men
,
remember
,
If
he
recover
that
is
hurt
,
the
tother
Will
come
off
well
enough
,
without
your
volour
:
Breath
,
breath
a
while
,
you
may
if
you
have
a
minde
too
't
Instead
of
reskuing
,
betray
a
gentleman
,
And
your selves
too
,
to
a
danger
.
Lit.
He
sayes
right
.
Ha.
T
is
scurvey
wearing
hempe
,
if
you
scape
killing
,
There
be
more
butchers
then
sell
flesh
;
and
Citizens
Have
no
mercy
in
their
Clubs
,
especially
When
gentlemen
have
so
litle
wit
,
to
bring
There
heads
to
'th
knocking
downe
,
't
is
a
revenge
They
owe
you
for
their
wives
,
oh
take
heede
mainely
Of
these
left
handed
Halberdiers
.
Acr.
Confound
'em
.
Ha.
How
many
will
you
kill
with
your
bird-spit
?
You
have
more
leggs
and
armes
at
home
,
which
makes
You
valiant
,
I
'le
not
pare
my
nailes
to day
,
And
yet
I
love
my
friend
,
as
the
best
on
you
;
You
know
I
dare
fight
too
,
but
in
this
cause
You
must
needs
pardon
me
,
I
beleeve
the
stoutest
That
now
would
seeme
all
fire
,
and
sword
,
will
goe
With
as
ill
will
to
hanging
,
as
another
,
And
will
becom
't
as
scurvily
,
take
your
courses
.
Sel.
I
thinke
't
is
better
:
Ha.
O'
th
two
,
to
go
to
the
Taverne
,
and
be
drunke
In
your
owne
defence
,
a
wench
is
not
so
dangerous
Nor
the
Disease
that
waites
upon
her
.
Acr.
What
if
the
gentleman
that
's
hurt
should
die
?
Then
ther
's
no
hope
for
tother
.
Ha.
Lesse
for
you
,
You
would
be
guilty
of
his
murther
too
,
And
snatch
him
from
the
Law
,
why
you
may
doo
't
:
T
is
pity
but
the
government
should
thanke
you
,
And
if
you
scape
the
halter
for
't
,
it
may
be
Another
man
in
time
,
may
cut
your
throate
,
And
ther
's
one
for
another
,
paid
in
the
blood
.
Come
be
your selves
,
these
are
not
acts
of
gentlemen
,
Where
shame
,
not
honor
must
reward
your
daring
,
Though
we
be
wild
,
it
followes
not
we
should
Be
mad
out-right
.
Lit.
I
was
ever
of
his
minde
.
Acr.
Come
lett
's
to
Taverne
.
Ha.
I
am
for
that
coast
,
now
I
thinke
upon
't
I
'le
meete
you
at
the
new
randevow
within
This
halfe-houre
,
I
expect
a
gentleman
That
has
engaged
my
promise
;
I
'le
come
t'
ee
Ere
you
be
halfe
drunke
.
Sel.
Doe
not
faile
.
Ha.
Drinke
Sack
and
thinke
not
on
't
,
what
should
be
The
busines
that
old
Barnacle
has
desired
My
conference
?
't
is
not
to
lend
me
money
sure
,
Hee
's
here
.
Enter
Master
Barnacle
.
Bar.
Master
Hazard
.
Ha.
I
was
comming
to
you
,
sir
.
Bar.
I
am
fortunate
to
prevent
so
great
a
trouble
,
There
is
a
busines
,
sir
,
wherein
I
must
desire
your
favour
.
Ha.
Mine
?
command
it
,
sir
.
Bar.
Nay
I
'le
be
thankefull
too
,
I
know
you
are
A
gentleman
.
Ha.
That
should
incline
,
you
thinke
I
am
not
mercenarie
Ba.
I
beseech
you
,
sir
,
Mistake
me
not
,
rewards
are
due
to
vertues
,
And
honor
must
be
cherish'd
.
Ha.
What
's
your
purpose
?
Pray
cleere
my
understanding
.
Ba.
To
be
plaine
,
sir
,
You
have
a
name
i'
th
Towne
for
a
brave
fellow
.
Ha.
How
,
sir
,
you
doe
not
come
to
jeere
me
?
Ba.
Patience
,
I
meane
you
have
the
opinion
Of
a
valiant
gentleman
,
one
that
dares
Fight
and
maintaine
your
honor
against
odds
,
The
sword-men
doe
acknowledge
you
,
the
baylies
Observe
their
distance
,
all
the
swaggering
pusses
Strike
their
top-sailes
,
I
have
heard
'em
in
the
streets
Saie
there
goes
daring
Hazard
,
a
man
carelesse
Of
wounds
,
and
though
he
have
not
had
the
lucke
To
kill
so
many
as
another
,
dares
Fight
with
all
them
that
have
.
Ha.
You
have
heard
this
.
Ba.
And
more
,
and
more
,
mistake
not
.
I
do
not
all
this
while
acompt
you
in
The
list
of
those
are
cald
the
blades
,
that
roare
In
brothells
,
and
breake
windowes
,
fright
the
streets
At
mid-night
worse
then
Constables
,
and
sometimes
Set
upon
innocent
Bell-men
,
to
beget
Discourse
for
a
weekes
dyet
,
that
sweare
,
dammes
,
To
pay
their
debts
,
and
march
like
walking
armories
,
With
Poyniard
,
Pistoll
,
Rapier
,
and
Batoone
,
As
they
would
murder
all
the
Kings
leige
people
,
And
blow
downe
streets
;
no
I
repute
you
valiant
Indeede
,
and
honor'd
,
and
come
now
without
More
ceremony
,
to
desire
your
favour
;
Which
as
you
are
a
gentleman
,
I
hope
,
You
'le
not
denie
me
.
Ha.
Though
your
Language
Be
something
strange
,
yet
,
bcause
I
thinke
you
dare
not
Intend
me
an
abuse
,
I
wonot
question
it
,
Pray
to
the
point
,
I
do
not
thinke
,
your
come
To
have
me
be
your
second
.
Bar
I
am
no
fighter
,
Though
I
have
seene
a
fence-schoole
in
my
Dayes
,
And
crackt
a
Cudgell
,
yet
I
come
about
A
fighting
businesse
.
Ha.
You
would
have
me
beate
some body
for
you
.
Bar.
Not
so
noble
Hazard
,
yet
I
come
to
entreat
a
valiant
curtesie
,
Which
I
am
willing
to
requit
in
money
,
I
have
brought
gold
to
give
you
paiment
,
sir
,
T
is
a
thing
you
may
easily
consent
to
,
And
't
will
oblige
me
ever
.
Ha.
Be
particular
.
Bar.
Then
thus
you
are
not
ignorant
I
have
a
Nephew
,
sir
.
Ha.
You
have
so
.
Bar.
One
that
's
like
To
be
my
heire
,
the
onely
of
my
name
That
's
left
,
and
one
that
may
in
time
be
made
A
prettie
fellow
.
Ha.
Very
well
,
proceede
.
Ba.
You
know
or
you
imagine
,
that
I
have
.
A
pretty
estate
too
.
Ha.
Y'
are
held
a
maine
rich
man
,
sir
,
In
money
able
to
weigh
downe
an
Alderman
.
Ba.
I
have
more
then
I
shall
spend
;
now
I
come
close
,
I
would
have
this
Nephew
of
mine
,
converse
with
gentlemen
,
Ha.
And
hee
does
so
.
Ba.
I
'le
not
pinch
him
in
's
allowance
,
The
University
had
almost
spoild
him
.
Ha.
With
what
?
Ba.
With
modesty
a
thing
you
know
Not
here
in
fashion
,
but
that
's
almost
cur'd
,
I
would
allow
him
to
be
drunke
.
Ha.
You
may
,
sir
.
Ba.
Or
any
thing
to
speake
him
a
fine
gentleman
,
Ha.
With
your
favour
,
sir
,
let
me
be
bold
a
litle
To
interrupt
you
,
were
not
you
a
Citizen
?
Ba.
T
is
confest
,
sir
.
Ha.
It
being
a
thriving
way
A
walke
wherein
you
might
direct
your
Nephew
,
Why
d'
ee
not
breede
him
so
?
Ba.
I
apprehend
;
And
thus
I
satisfie
you
,
we
that
had
Our
breeding
from
a
Trade
,
cits
as
you
call
us
,
Though
we
hate
gentlemen
our selves
,
yet
are
Ambitious
,
to
make
all
our
children
gentlemen
,
In
three
generations
they
returne
agen
,
We
for
our
children
purchase
Land
,
they
brave
it
I'
th
Countrie
,
begets
children
,
and
they
sell
,
Grow
poore
,
and
send
their
sonnes
up
to
be
Prentises
:
There
is
a
whirle
in
fate
,
the
Courtiers
make
Us
cuckolds
;
marke
,
we
wriggle
into
their
Estates
,
poverty
makes
their
children
Citizens
;
Our
sonnes
cuckold
them
,
a
circular
justice
,
The
World
turnes
round
,
but
once
more
to
the
purpose
.
Ha.
To
your
Nephew
.
Ba.
This
Nephew
of
mine
,
I
do
love
deerly
;
He
is
all
my
care
,
I
would
be
loth
to
loose
him
,
And
to
preserve
him
both
in
life
,
and
honor
:
I
come
to
you
.
Ha.
Now
you
come
to
me
indeede
,
sir
.
Bar.
What
shall
I
give
you
,
sir
,
to
let
him
�
Ha.
What
?
Bar.
Pray
be
not
angry
.
Ha.
By
no
meanes
.
Bar.
There
is
no
such
security
i'
th
World
,
I
'le
pay
for
't
heartily
.
Ha.
For
what
?
Ba.
What
shall
I
give
you
troth
,
and
let
him
.
Ha.
What
?
Bar.
Beate
you
,
sir
?
Acr.
How
?
Ba.
Nay
do
not
,
sir
,
mistake
me
,
for
although
I
name
it
,
caursely
I
desire
it
should
be
With
your
consent
,
no
otherwise
;
my
Nephew
Is
raw
,
and
wants
opinion
,
and
the
talke
Of
such
a
thing
,
to
beate
a
gentleman
,
That
all
the
Townes
afraid
of
,
would
bee
worth
In
's
credit
,
heaven
knowes
what
,
alas
you
cannot
Blame
a
kinde
Uncle
,
to
desire
all
meanes
To
get
his
Nephew
fame
,
and
keepe
him
safe
,
And
this
were
such
a
way
.
Ha.
To
have
me
beaten
.
Ba.
Y'
are
i'
th
right
,
but
doe
not
misconceive
me
,
Under
your
favour
,
my
intention
is
not
He
should
much
hurt
you
,
if
you
please
to
let
him
Quarrell
,
or
so
at
Taverne
,
or
where
else
You
shall
thinke
fit
,
and
throw
a
pottle-pot
�
Ha.
At
my
head
.
Ba.
Yes
,
or
say
it
be
a
quart
,
still
under
your
correction
,
Onely
that
some
of
your
acquaintance
and
Gentlemen
may
take
notice
,
that
he
dares
Affront
you
,
and
come
off
with
honor
handsomelie
,
Looke
her
's
a
hundred
peeces
,
tell
,
'em
i'
th
Ordinarie
Th'
are
weight
upon
my
credit
,
play
'em
not
Against
light
gold
,
this
is
the
Prologue
to
My
thanks
,
beside
my
Nephew
shall
in
private
Acknowledge
himselfe
beholding
.
Ha.
A
hundred
peeces
!
I
want
mony
.
Bar.
Right
.
Ha.
You
give
me
this
to
let
your
Nephew
beate
me
.
Bar.
Pray
take
me
w'
ee
,
I
do
not
meane
he
should
By
beating
,
hurt
you
dangerouslie
,
you
may
Contrive
the
quarrell
,
so
that
he
may
draw
Some
blood
,
or
knocke
you
,
o're
the
pate
,
and
so
forth
,
And
come
of
bravelie
,
this
is
all
.
Ha.
Well
,
sir
,
You
doe
not
meane
,
you
say
hee
should
endanger
My
life
or
limbes
;
all
you
desire
,
if
I
Mistake
not
,
is
to
get
your
Nephew
credit
,
That
being
flesh'd
,
he
may
walke
securelie
,
and
be
held
Valiant
by
gayning
honor
upon
mee
.
Bar.
You
understand
me
right
.
Ha.
I
'le
put
it
up
,
Pray
send
your
Nephew
to
me
,
wee
le
agree
.
Bar.
Agree
,
sir
?
you
must
quarrell
,
and
he
must
beate
you
,
else
,
t
is
no
bargaine
.
Ha.
Not
before
We
have
concluded
how
things
shall
bee
carried
.
Ba.
I
must
desire
your
secresie
and
�
Ha.
Heer
's
my
hand
.
Bar.
And
ther
's
my
monie
.
Ha.
Your
Nephew
shall
be
a
blade
.
Ba.
Why
ther
's
ten
peeces
more
,
cause
you
come
off
So
freely
,
I
'le
send
him
to
you
.
Ha.
Do
so
,
why
this
,
if
the
Dice
favour
me
may
bring
all
My
Lands
agen
,
be
sure
you
send
him
,
but
No
words
for
your
Nephews
credit
.
Ba.
Mum
�
I
thanke
you
heartilie
.
Exit
.
Ha.
Be
there
such
things
i'
th
World
,
I
'le
first
to
the
Taverne
,
There
I
am
staid
for
,
gentlemen
I
come
,
I
'le
be
beate
every
day
for
such
a
summe
.
Eixt
.
Act.
II.
Enter
Mistresse
Wilding
,
and
the
Page
.
Mi.
Wher
's
your
Master
,
boy
?
Pag.
I
know
not
Mistresse
.
Mi.
Come
neerer
,
sirra
,
you
are
of
your
Masters
Counsell
sometimes
,
come
,
be
true
in
what
I
shall
desire
,
and
I
shall
finde
a
time
,
for
your
reward
.
Pa.
How
d'
ee
meane
Mistresse
?
We
Pages
meete
rewards
of
severall
natures
,
This
great
man
gives
us
Gold
,
that
Ladie
Gloves
,
Tother
silke
Stockins
,
Roses
,
Garters
:
but
The
Ladie
,
and
Mistresse
whom
we
serve
in
ordinarie
,
Reserves
another
bountie
,
for
our
closenesse
.
Mi.
I
see
you
can
be
a
wag
,
but
be
just
to
me
,
and
secret
.
Pa.
As
your
Physition
,
or
your
looking-lasse
;
That
in
your
absence
cannot
be
corrupted
To
betraie
your
complexion
.
Mi.
What
private
mistresses
,
does
Master
Wilding
visit
?
Pa.
Who
my
Master
?
Alas
forsooth
,
d'
ee
thinke
he
lets
me
know
?
Mi.
Nay
,
nay
dissemble
not
.
Pa.
I
hire
a
Coach
Sometimes
,
or
so
,
but
ride
alwaies
i'
th
boote
,
I
looke
at
no bodie
but
the
passengers
,
I
do
not
sit
i'
th
same
box
at
Playes
with
him
.
I
waite
at
Taverne
,
I
confesse
,
and
so
forth
,
And
when
he
has
sup'd
,
we
must
have
time
to
eate
too
,
And
what
should
I
trouble
my
conscience
,
With
being
too
officious
,
till
I
am
cald
for
?
T
is
true
,
he
waites
upon
the
Ladies
home
,
But
't
is
so
darke
,
I
know
not
where
they
dwell
,
And
the
next
day
we
have
new
ones
,
las
meere
strangers
To
me
,
and
I
should
be
unmannerlie
To
Catechise
'em
,
if
now
,
and
then
,
there
be
Any
superfluous
cast
waiting-woman
,
There
be
so
many
serving
men
about
her
,
I
cannot
come
to
aske
a
question
,
And
how
should
I
know
any
thing
?
Mi.
I
see
you
are
old
enough
for
vice
.
Pa.
Alas
forsooth
,
You
know
t
is
ill
to
doe
a
thing
that
's
wicked
,
But
't
were
a
double
sinne
to
talke
on
't
too
,
If
I
were
guiltie
;
beside
forsooth
,
I
know
You
would
neere
trust
me
agen
,
If
I
should
tell
you
.
Mi.
Thou
art
deceav'd
,
it
shall
endeare
thee
more
.
Pa.
I
must
beseech
you
To
be
excus'd
,
my
Master
is
my
Master
,
My
feete
are
at
your
service
,
not
my
tongue
,
I
wo'd
not
forfet
my
recognizance
,
And
shame
the
tribe
,
Pages
,
and
Mid-wives
are
Sworne
to
be
close
.
Mi.
Hence
thou
old
in
vilanie
,
But
't
is
in
vaine
to
chide
,
leave
me
,
and
bid
Mistris
Penelope
come
hither
.
Pa.
Yes
forsooth
.
Mi.
I
know
not
which
way
to
beginne
,
to
me
Hee
has
betraid
he
loves
her
,
she
is
present
.
Enter
Penelope
.
Pene.
Will
you
be
sad
still
Cozen
,
why
d'
ee
greeve
?
Be
kinder
to
your selfe
,
trust
me
,
I
weepe
When
I
am
alone
,
for
you
.
Mi.
Sorrow
and
I
Are
taking
leave
I
hope
,
and
these
are
onely
Some
drops
after
the
cloud
has
wept
his
violence
:
Were
one
thing
finish'd
,
I
should
nere
be
sad
more
,
And
I
cannot
despaire
to
know
it
done
,
Since
the
effect
depends
upon
your
love
.
Pene.
My
love
?
t
is
justice
you
command
my
service
,
I
would
I
were
so
happie
.
Mi.
Make
me
so
,
By
your
consent
to
my
desire
.
Pene.
Pray
name
it
.
Mi.
I
onely
aske
your
love
,
praie
give
it
me
.
Pene.
My
love
?
why
doe
you
mocke
my
poore
hart
,
which
Poures
all
it
has
upon
you
?
y'
are
possest
of
that
alreadie
.
Mi.
You
examine
not
The
extent
of
my
request
,
for
when
you
have
Given
what
I
aske
,
your
love
,
you
must
no
more
Direct
it
,
as
you
please
,
the
power
's
in
me
How
to
dispose
it
.
Pen.
And
you
shall
for
ever
,
I
have
no
passion
that
shall
not
know
obedience
to
you
.
Mi.
Your
love
by
gift
Made
mine
,
I
give
my
husband
you
,
love
him
.
Pene.
I
alwaies
did
.
Mi.
But
in
a
neerer
way
:
Love
him
as
I
doe
,
with
a
resolution
To
give
your selfe
to
him
,
if
he
desire
it
.
Pene.
I
understand
you
not
,
or
if
you
doe
Suspect
I
cherish
any
lawlesse
fame
�
Mi.
Thou
art
to
innocent
;
be
lesse
,
and
doe
An
act
to
endeare
us
both
,
I
know
he
loves
thee
;
Meete
it
,
deere
coose
,
't
is
all
I
beg
of
thee
;
I
know
you
thinke
it
a
most
strange
request
,
But
it
will
make
fortunate
.
Pene.
Greife
I
feare
Hath
made
her
wild
,
d'
ee
know
what
you
desire
?
Mi.
Yes
,
that
you
love
my
husband
:
modestie
Will
not
allow
me
to
discourse
my
wish
In
everie
circumstance
,
but
thinke
how
desperate
My
wound
is
,
that
would
have
so
strange
a
cure
,
Hee
'le
love
me
then
,
and
trust
me
I
'le
not
studie
Revenge
,
as
other
wives
perhappes
would
doe
,
But
thanke
thee
,
and
indeede
an
act
like
this
;
So
full
of
love
,
with
so
much
losse
and
shame
too
,
For
mine
and
his
sake
,
will
deserve
all
dutie
,
Pene.
I
have
no
patience
to
heare
more
,
and
could
I
let
in
a
thought
,
you
meant
this
earnest
,
I
should
forget
I
knew
you
;
but
you
cannot
Be
falne
from
so
much
goodnesse
,
I
confesse
I
have
no
confidence
in
your
husbands
vertue
,
He
has
attempted
me
;
but
shall
hope
sooner
To
leave
a
staine
upon
the
sunne
,
then
bribe
Mee
to
so
foule
a
guilt
;
I
have
no
life
Without
my
innocence
,
and
you
cannot
make
Your selfe
more
miserable
,
then
to
wish
it
from
me
:
Oh
,
do
not
loose
the
merit
of
your
faith
,
And
truth
to
him
,
though
he
forget
himselfe
,
By
thinking
to
releeve
your selfe
thus
sinfullie
,
But
sure
you
doe
but
trie
me
all
this
while
.
Mi.
And
I
have
found
thee
pure
,
be
still
preserved
so
,
But
he
will
stragle
further
�
Pene.
Cherish
hope
,
He
rather
will
come
backe
;
your
teares
,
and
prayers
Cannot
be
lost
.
Mi.
I
charge
thee
by
thy
love
,
Yet
be
ruld
by
me
;
I
'le
not
be
so
wicked
To
tempt
thee
in
a
thought
shall
blemish
thee
:
But
as
thou
would'st
desire
my
peace
,
and
his
Conversion
,
if
his
wantonnes
last
with
him
,
Appeare
more
tractable
,
allow
him
so
much
Favour
,
in
smile
,
or
language
,
that
he
maie
not
Thinke
it
impossible
to
prevaile
at
last
.
Pene.
This
may
ingage
him
further
,
and
my selfe
to
a
dishonor
.
Mi.
It
shall
worke
our
happinesse
,
As
I
will
manage
things
;
't
is
but
to
seeme
:
A
looke
will
cost
thee
nothing
,
nor
a
syllable
To
make
his
hopes
more
pleasing
,
on
my
life
Thou
shalt
be
safe
both
in
thy
fame
,
and
person
,
Will
you
doe
this
for
my
sake
?
Pene.
I
'le
refuse
no
danger
,
if
I
suffer
not
in
honor
,
To
doe
you
any
service
.
Mi.
I
have
cast
it
Already
,
in
my
braine
,
but
doe
not
yet
Inquire
my
purpose
,
as
his
follie
leades
Him
to
pursue
you
,
let
me
know
,
and
I
'le
By
faire
degrees
acquaint
you
with
my
plot
,
Which
built
on
no
foule
ends
,
is
like
to
prosper
,
And
see
how
aptlie
he
presents
himselfe
,
Preethee
seeme
kinde
,
and
leave
the
rest
to
me
.
He
shall
not
see
me
.
Exit
.
Enter
Master
Wilding
.
Wi.
How
now
cooze
?
was
that
My
wife
went
off
?
Pene.
Yes
,
sir
.
Wi.
Let
her
goe
,
what
said
shee
to
thee
?
Pene.
Nothing
.
Wi.
Thou
art
troubled
.
Pene.
Pray
to
your
knowledge
,
sir
,
wherein
have
I
Done
injury
to
you
,
or
her
?
Wi.
Has
she
abus'd
thee
?
I
'le
goe
kicke
her
.
Pene.
By
no
meanes
,
sir
,
I
steale
away
your
hart
,
And
meete
at
stolne
embraces
.
Wi.
Does
shee
twit
thee
?
I
'le
kicke
her
like
a
foot-ball
,
Say
but
the
word
.
Pene.
By
no
meanes
thinke
upon
't
,
I
have
forgiven
her
,
You
shanot
sir
,
so
much
as
frowne
upon
her
.
Pray
do
not
as
you
love
me
,
Wee
may
studie
a
more
convenient
revenge
.
Wi.
How
's
this
?
I
preethee
if
she
have
beene
peremptorie
,
Which
was
none
of
our
articles
,
let
me
instruct
thee
,
How
we
shall
be
reveng'd
.
Pene.
Sir
,
I
acknowledge
The
groth
and
expectation
of
my
fortune
,
Is
in
your
love
,
and
though
I
wod
not
wrong
her
;
And
yet
to
have
my
innocence
accus'd
Is
able
to
pervert
it
,
sir
,
your
pardon
,
I
have
beene
passionate
;
pray
love
your
wife
,
Wi.
No
,
no
,
I
'le
love
thee
,
indeede
,
indeede
I
will
,
Is
shee
jealous
?
Pene.
You
know
she
has
no
cause
.
Wi.
Let
us
be
wise
;
and
give
her
cause
,
shall
's
coose
,
Pene.
Sir
,
if
it
be
a
trouble
to
your
House
,
Your
breath
shall
soone
discharge
me
,
I
had
thought
The
tie
of
blood
might
have
gain'd
some
respect
.
Wi.
Discharge
thee
the
house
?
I
'le
discharge
her
,
And
all
her
generation
,
thee
excepted
,
And
thou
shallt
do
't
thy selfe
,
by
this
,
thou
shat
;
Ha
,
she
kisses
with
more
freedome
,
this
is
better
,
Then
if
my
wife
had
pleaded
for
me
,
Pen
,
Thou
shalt
be
mistresse
,
woot
?
come
thou
shalt
,
Shee
's
fit
for
drudgerie
.
Pene.
Oh
,
do
not
say
so
.
Wi.
Then
I
wonot
,
but
I
love
thee
for
thy
spirit
,
Cause
thou
woot
be
reveng'd
,
punish
her
jealozie
The
right
way
,
when
't
is
done
,
I
doe
not
care
To
tell
her
,
it
may
kicke
up
her
heeles
too
,
another
way
.
Pene.
Tell
her
what
?
you
make
me
blush
.
Wi.
No
,
no
,
I
'le
tell
no bodie
,
by
this
hand
.
Stay
I
have
a
Diamond
will
become
this
finger
,
Weare
it
,
and
let
my
wife
stare
out
her
eyes
upon
't
.
Pene.
I
wonot
take
't
on
such
conditions
.
Wi.
Take
it
on
any
;
shee
is
come
about
.
Enter
Page
.
Pa.
Sir
Master
Hazard
desires
your
company
at
Taverne
,
he
sayes
there
are
none
but
gentlemen
of
your
acquaintance
,
Master
Acre-lesse
,
Master
Little-stocke
,
and
Master
Sell-away
,
the
three
Gamesters
.
Wi.
He
must
excuse
me
.
Pene.
As
you
love
me
,
goe
,
sir
.
Have
no
suspition
that
I
wish
your
absence
,
I
'le
weare
your
gift
,
and
study
to
be
thankfull
.
Exit
.
Wi.
Well
,
ther
's
no
great
hurt
in
all
this
yet
;
The
Tides
not
strong
against
me
,
no
talke
now
,
Of
wives
consent
,
I
'le
not
remove
my
seige
,
Shee
'le
studie
to
be
thankefull
,
shee
's
mine
owne
,
As
sure
as
I
were
in
her
maiden-head
,
Now
to
the
Taverne
boy
,
and
drinke
to
the
purpose
.
Exeunt
.
Enter
Hazard
,
Acre-lesse
Little-stocke
,
Sell-away
,
as
in
a
Taverne
.
Drawers
.
Ha.
More
wine
,
is
not
this
better
gentlemen
,
Then
spitting
Constables
?
you
wod
have
fought
now
,
And
had
your
braine-pannes
open'd
Acr.
Right
noble
Hazard
,
Heer
's
to
thee
.
Ha.
Let
come
boy
,
fill
it
me
steeple-high
,
I
am
in
vaine
of
mirth
,
and
I
ha
cause
As
you
shall
see
in
due
time
gentlemen
.
Master
Little
stocke
thou
art
dreaming
o'
th
Dice
.
Sel.
Hee
's
melancholie
.
Lit.
Who
I
!
Ha.
I
'le
play
the
farrier
then
,
and
drench
thee
for
the
sullens
:
a
health
to
all
our
Mistresses
,
we
have
had
'em
single
,
let
ts
shuffle
'em
now
together
.
Master
Acre-lesse
.
Enter
Fidler
.
Fi.
Wil
t
please
you
Gentlemen
to
have
a
Song
.
Ha.
You
have
not
washt
to day
,
go
get
cleane
manners
;
You
raskall
we
have
no
wenches
.
Fi.
I
see
no bodie
,
sir
,
you
have
wash'd
my
eyes
out
.
Ha.
It
is
not
necessarie
thou
should'st
have
any
:
Fill
mee
agen
.
Acr
,
This
fellow
wod
ha
t'other
Cup
.
Fi.
I
have
had
a
Cup
too
much
alreadie
gentlemen
.
Exit
.
Ha.
Let
it
goe
round
,
and
then
in
hope
you
may
Looke
double
,
I
'le
shew
you
a
sight
,
I
wonder
Jacke
wilding
Stayes
.
Enter
Master
Wilding
,
and
Page
.
Hee
's
come
i'
th
nicke
.
Wi.
Save
,
save
you
gallants
,
may
a
man
come
i'
th
reere
?
Ha.
Give
him
his
garnish
.
Wi.
Y'
are
not
Prisoners
for
the
reckning
,
I
hope
.
Ha.
For
the
reckning
?
now
y'
are
altogether
gentlemen
,
I
'le
shew
you
a
wonder
;
but
come
not
to
neere
,
Keepe
out
o'
th
Circle
,
whatsoever
you
thinke
on
't
,
This
is
a
hundred
pound
,
nay
,
not
so
close
,
These
Picturs
do
shew
best
at
distance
,
gentlemen
.
You
see
it
,
presto
�
Wi.
Nay
lett
's
see
't
agen
.
Ha.
Like
to
your
cunning
jugler
,
I
ne're
shew
My
tricke
but
once
you
may
heare
more
hereafter
,
What
thinke
you
of
this
Master
Acre-lesse
,
Master
Little-stocke
,
And
Master
Sell-away
?
Acr.
We
do
not
beleeve
't
is
gold
,
Ha.
Perish
then
In
your
infidelitie
.
Wi.
Let
me
but
touch
it
.
Ha.
It
will
indure
,
take
my
word
for
't
,
why
looke
you
,
For
your
satisfactions
,
no
Gloves
off
,
You
have
devices
to
defalke
,
preserve
Your
talons
,
and
your
talents
,
till
you
meete
With
more
convenient
Gamesters
.
Lit.
How
cam'st
by
it
?
Wi.
Tha'dst
little
or
none
this
morning
.
Ha.
I
have
bought
it
gentlemen
,
and
you
in
a
mist
Shall
see
what
I
paid
for
it
,
thou
hast
not
drunke
yet
:
Nere
feare
the
reckning
man
,
more
wine
,
you
varletts
,
And
call
your
Mistris
,
your
Scolopendia
If
we
like
her
complexion
,
we
may
dine
here
.
Wi.
But
harke
thee
,
harke
thee
Will
,
did'st
winne
it
?
Ha.
No
,
but
I
may
loose
it
ere
I
goe
to
bed
,
Dost
think
't
shall
mustie
,
what
's
a
hundred
pound
?
Sel
,
A
miracle
,
but
they
are
ceast
with
me
.
Acr.
And
me
too
,
come
lett
's
drinke
.
Wi.
No
matter
,
how
it
came
Will
,
I
congratulate
Thy
fortune
,
and
will
quit
thee
now
With
good
newes
of
my selfe
,
my
coose
I
told
thee
on
,
Is
wheel'd
about
,
she
has
tooke
a
Ring
o'
me
,
We
kist
,
and
talk'd
,
time
out
a
minde
.
Ha.
I
know
it
,
My
Almanacke
sayes
't
is
a
good
day
to
wooe
in
,
Confirm'd
by
Erra
Pater
,
that
honest
Jew
too
,
I
'le
pledge
thee
.
Enter
Drawer
.
Dr.
Master
Hazard
there
are
two
gentlemen
below
,
Inquire
for
you
.
Ha.
For
me
?
Da.
One's
somewhat
ancient
,
I
heard
him
call
The
tother
Nephew
.
Ha.
Say
I
come
to
'em
presentlie
,
Gentlemen
,
I
doe
caution
you
before
To
be
faire
conditiond
:
one
of
them
,
the
Nephew
Is
of
a
fierie
constitution
,
And
sensible
of
any
affront
,
let
this
Character
prepare
him
for
you
.
Wi.
Bring
him
not
hither
.
Ha.
There
is
a
necessitie
in
't
,
I
wod
not
for
A
hundred
pound
but
entertaine
him
,
now
He
knowes
I
am
here
.
Exit
.
Enter
Master
Hazard
againe
,
with
Barnacle
,
his
Nephew
,
and
Dwindle
.
Wi.
This
is
old
Barnacle
.
Acr.
One
that
is
to
fine
for
Alderman
.
Lit.
And
that
's
his
Nephew
,
I
have
beene
in
's
company
,
Sel.
Is
this
the
youth
Hazard
prepard
us
for
?
How
bussie
they
are
?
Ha.
You
could
not
wish
better
opportunitie
,
These
are
all
gentlemen
of
qualitie
,
I
'le
call
him
cozen
first
,
if
it
please
you
,
To
endeare
him
to
their
acquaintance
.
Bar.
I
'le
not
be
a
witnesse
of
your
passages
my selfe
;
these
will
report
as
much
as
I
desire
,
sir
,
if
you
be
beaten
I
am
satisfied
.
Ne.
But
d'
ee
heare
Uncle
,
are
sure
you
have
made
Your
bargaine
wiselie
;
they
may
cut
my
throat
When
you
are
gone
,
and
what
are
you
the
wiser
,
Dwindle
be
you
close
to
me
.
Ha.
I
warrant
you
we
shall
do
things
with
discretion
,
If
he
have
but
grace
,
to
looke
and
talke
couragiouslie
.
Bar.
He
may
be
valiant
for
ought
I
know
,
Howsoever
this
will
be
a
secure
way
To
have
him
thought
so
,
if
he
beate
you
soundlie
.
Ne.
I
doe
not
like
the
company
;
But
I
have
drunke
wine
too
,
and
that
's
the
best
on
't
,
We
maie
quarrell
on
even
Termes
,
looke
to
Thy
basket-hilt
Dwindle
,
and
have
a
stoole
readie
;
Dw.
I
will
give
your
worship
a
stoole
.
Ha.
As
I
am
gentleman
,
be
confident
I
'le
waite
on
you
downe
,
sir
.
Bar.
By
no
meanes
,
let
him
beate
you
to
purpose
,
sir
.
Ne.
Buy
Uncle
.
Exit
.
Ha.
Come
,
sir
,
pray
gentlemen
,
bid
my
kinsman
welcome
:
a
sparke
that
will
deserve
your
knowledge
.
Wi.
His
kinsman
?
you
are
welcome
.
Acr.
He
has
power
to
command
your
welcome
.
Lit.
If
I
mistake
not
,
I
have
had
the
happinesse
To
ha
beene
in
your
companie
afore
now
.
Ne.
Mine
,
sir
?
d'
ee
heare
,
what
if
I
quarrel'd
With
him
first
?
't
will
prepare
me
the
better
.
Ha.
Do
as
you
please
;
that
's
without
my
conditions
.
Ne.
I
'le
but
give
him
now
and
then
a
touch
,
I
'le
close
Well
enough
I
warrant
you
,
you
beene
in
my
Companie
,
sir
?
Lit.
Yes
,
and
at
the
Taverne
.
Ne.
I
paid
the
reckning
then
.
Lit.
You
came
into
our
roome
�
Ne.
Tell
me
of
comming
into
your
roome
,
I
'le
come
againe
,
you
are
a
superfluous
gentleman
,
Wil.
How
's
this
?
Ha.
Let
him
alone
.
Lit.
Sir
,
remember
your selfe
.
Ne.
I
'le
remember
what
I
please
,
I
'le
forget
what
I
remember
:
tell
me
of
a
reckning
,
what
i
st
?
I
'le
pay
't
,
no
man
shall
make
an
asse
of
me
,
Further
then
I
list
my selfe
,
I
care
not
a
fiddle
-
Sticke
for
any
mans
thundring
,
he
that
affronts
Me
,
is
the
sonne
of
a
Worme
,
and
his
father
a
Whoore
,
I
care
not
a
straw
,
nor
a
broken
point
For
you
,
if
any
man
dare
drinke
to
me
;
I
Wonot
goe
behind
the
dore
to
pledge
him
.
Acr.
Why
her
's
to
you
,
sir
,
Ne.
Why
there
's
to
you
,
sir
.
Twit
mee
with
comming
into
a
Roome
,
I
could
�
finde
in
my
heart
,
to
throw
a
Pottle-pot
,
I
name
no bodie
,
I
will
kicke
any
man
downe
Stayres
,
that
cannot
behave
himselfe
like
a
gentleman
,
none
but
a
slave
would
offer
to
paie
a
reckning
before
me
,
where
's
the
Drawer
?
ther
's
a
peece
at
all
adventures
;
hee
that
is
my
friend
,
I
cars
not
a
rush
,
if
any
man
be
my
enemie
,
he
is
an
idle
companion
,
and
I
honor
him
with
all
my
heart
.
Wi.
This
is
a
precious
humor
,
is
he
us'd
to
these
mistakes
?
Lit.
Your
kinsman
gives
him
priviledge
.
Ne.
I
desire
no
mans
priviledge
,
it
skills
not
whether
I
be
kin
to
any
man
living
.
Ha.
Nay
,
nay
,
cozen
,
pray
let
me
perswade
you
.
Ne.
You
perswade
me
?
for
what
acquaintance
,
minde
your
busines
and
speake
with
your
Tailor
.
Ha.
And
you
be
thus
rude
�
Ne.
Rude
,
sir
,
what
then
,
sir
,
hold
me
Dwindle
.
Dw.
Are
you
readie
to
have
a
stoole
,
sir
?
Wi.
Nay
,
nay
,
Will
,
we
beare
with
him
for
your
sake
,
He
is
your
kinsman
.
Ha.
I
am
calme
agen
,
Cozen
,
I
am
sorry
any
person
here
Hath
given
you
offence
.
Ne.
Perhapps
,
sir
,
you
Have
given
me
offence
,
I
do
not
feare
you
,
I
have
knock'd
as
round
a
fellow
in
my
dayes
.
Ha.
And
may
againe
�
Wi.
Be
knock'd
,
a
pox
upon
him
,
I
know
not
what
to
make
on
him
.
Ha.
Let
me
speake
a
word
in
private
,
sir
.
Ne.
I
can
be
as
private
as
you
,
sir
.
Ha.
Strike
me
a
box
o'
th
eare
presentlie
.
Ne.
Ther
's
my
hand
on
't
.
Wi.
Nay
,
nay
,
gentlemen
.
Acr.
Master
Wilding
.
Ne.
Let
him
call
me
to
account
,
the
recknings
paid
.
Come
Dwindle
.
Exit
.
Sel.
I
did
not
thinke
the
foole
durst
ha
done
this
,
T
is
a
strange
youth
.
Ha.
You
shall
heare
more
to morrow
.
Dr.
All
's
paid
,
and
you
are
welcome
gentlemen
.
Exeunt
.
Enter
Leonara
,
Violante
.
Leo.
Why
should
not
we
two
live
together
,
being
So
equall
in
our
passions
?
oh
Violante
,
Our
knowledge
grew
from
children
,
and
our
loves
Allie
us
in
our
natures
.
Vio.
T
is
my
wish
To
dwell
with
thee
,
I
never
knew
that
woman
In
whom
I
tooke
more
pleasure
to
converse
with
,
Leo.
But
I
have
a
father
,
and
remembring
him
A
sorrow
steales
upon
me
,
to
betraie
My
hopes
of
blessing
;
for
although
hee
love
me
,
And
deerelie
as
he
sayes
,
for
Children
must
not
Dispute
with
fathers
,
he
affects
not
him
In
whom
I
place
all
thoughts
that
can
delight
me
,
He
loves
not
Delamore
,
and
what
to
me
Is
all
the
World
without
him
?
I
shall
never
I
feare
,
have
his
consent
to
be
made
happie
In
marriage
,
and
this
,
although
our
thoughts
Reflect
with
equall
honor
on
our
lovers
,
Makes
the
distinction
,
and
concludes
me
miserable
,
Thy
will
depends
upon
no
riged
parent
,
Thy
path
is
strew'd
with
Roses
,
while
I
clime
A
ragged
cliffe
,
to
meete
whom
I
affect
.
Vio.
Indeede
,
Leonara
I
much
pitie
thee
.
Leo,
I
prethee
counsell
me
how
shall
I
wrastle
With
my
sad
destinie
,
and
yet
preserve
My
filiall
obedience
,
I
must
loose
A
father
,
or
a
husband
.
Vio.
Would
I
knew
Which
way
to
bid
thee
steere
,
but
lesson'd
by
My
owne
affection
,
I
would
have
thy
minde
Constant
to
him
thou
loust
,
time
may
correct
A
fathers
harshnes
,
and
be
confident
If
poore
Violante
have
a
power
to
serve
thee
,
She
will
forget
her
owne
heart
,
ere
prove
false
to
thee
.
Leo.
Oh
my
deare
soule
,
I
know
't
.
Enter
Servant
.
Ser.
Oh
mistresse
.
Leo.
What
's
the
matter
!
Vio.
This
face
betraies
some
miserable
accident
.
Leo.
Speake
,
and
assure
us
,
what
disaster
makes
Thy
countenance
so
wilde
.
Ser.
A
friend
of
yours
�
Leo.
Is
sicke
,
is
dead
,
what
more
?
and
yet
I
have
So
few
,
I
can
spare
none
.
Ser.
Is
dead
,
since
you
appeare
so
fortified
.
Leo.
Is
my
father
living
,
and
Delamore
?
Ser.
Your
father
is
in
health
,
but
�
Leo.
Staie
,
as
thou
wouldst
preserve
thy
mistresse
in
The
number
of
the
living
.
Vio.
How
my
feares
increase
!
Leo.
Except
Violante
,
whom
I
see
Enjoyes
her
health
,
I
have
no
friend
but
Delamore
,
I
hope
hee
is
not
dead
.
Ser.
Your
Delamore
is
dead
.
Shee
faints
.
Vi.
Friend
,
Leonora
,
'T
was
indiscreetlie
done
to
open
sorrow
So
like
a
torrent
,
Leonora
;
friend
.
Leo.
Why
dost
thou
call
me
from
him
?
sure
I
was
Going
to
meete
my
Delamore
.
Vi.
Give
not
such
Beleefe
to
these
sad
newes
,
untill
you
heare
it
Confirm'd
,
dist
see
him
dead
?
Ser.
I
did
not
see
him
.
Vi.
Have
comfort
then
,
this
may
Bee
check'd
againe
.
Leo.
Would
I
could
hope
it
.
Vio.
Have
more
courage
friend
,
Didst
heare
the
circumstance
?
Ser.
He
was
slaine
they
say
.
Vio.
Nay
then
beleeve
it
not
,
he
was
so
innocent
,
He
could
provoke
no
angrie
sword
against
him
.
Ser.
I
wish
your
confidence
were
not
deceav'd
,
The
last
part
of
my
storie
will
concerne
Your
faith
,
and
sorrow
.
Vio.
Mine
?
in
her
I
share
Too
much
,
but
prethee
since
thou
hast
not
beene
Slow
to
wound
her
,
let
me
know
my
affliction
.
Ser.
The
generall
voice
is
,
Master
Beaumont
slew
him
,
Your
servant
Ladie
.
Vio.
Tell
the
generall
voice
It
lyes
,
my
Beaumont
prove
a
murderer
?
And
of
his
friend
?
he
would
not
kill
an
enemie
.
Ser.
All
I
can
say
in
proofe
of
this
,
I
saw
him
Guarded
to
Prison
,
pardon
my
relation
.
Vio.
If
thou
beleevest
thy
eyes
abus'd
thee
not
,
Thou
might'st
with
one
breath
spoken
'em
both
dead
,
For
the
survivor
lives
,
but
to
give
up
His
life
with
more
shame
,
all
my
comfort
is
,
I
shall
not
live
to
see
it
,
oh
Leonora
,
Who
is
most
wretched
now
?
let
thou
,
and
I
,
The
few
dayes
that
we
have
to
live
,
be
friends
,
And
die
in
perfect
charitie
,
I
must
leave
you
To
manage
your
owne
griefe
,
I
have
enough
To
breake
my
poore
heart
too
.
Exit
.
Leo.
What
Seas
breake-in
Upon
us
?
I
that
could
have
dyed
within
A
gentle
wave
,
now
struggle
for
my
life
,
My
father
?
Enter
Sr.
Richard
Hurry
.
Hu.
What
,
it
seemes
you
heard
the
newes
,
Come
let
your
sorrowes
drie
up
,
you
may
see
What
't
is
to
be
so
rash
,
when
you
chuse
next
,
You
'le
consult
me
,
I
hope
;
wipe
,
wipe
your
eyes
,
Your
teares
are
vaine
,
I
could
say
more
.
Leo.
What
sir
?
Hu.
They
are
more
then
he
deserv'd
,
and
yet
t
is
better
Thou
shouldst
bestow
thy
teares
upon
his
Funerall
,
Then
I
sigh'd
at
thy
marriage
;
come
,
Heaven
has
Beene
kinde
in
this
divorce
,
preparing
thus
Thy
better
fortune
,
and
preserving
mine
,
I
am
sorrie
for
the
gentleman
that
kild
him
.
Leo.
Oh
Murderer
.
Hu.
You
are
a
foole
,
and
know
not
His
provocation
:
in
my
youthfull
dayes
,
I
was
not
patient
when
affronts
were
offred
me
,
Nothing
more
deere
to
gentlemen
,
then
honor
.
Leo.
Honor
in
murder
?
Hu.
This
was
otherwise
:
In
my
owne
defence
I
would
kill
a
family
,
He
shew'd
his
generous
spirit
,
all
the
towne
Speakes
noblie
of
him
,
pity
him
,
and
pray
for
him
,
And
were
he
not
desertfull
,
by
this
time
The
generall
vote
had
hang'd
him
.
Leo.
Oh
,
my
fate
!
Hu.
Tother
a
loose
,
and
inconsiderate
man
,
Lost
in
estate
,
and
would
ha
married
thee
,
To
ha
squees'd
mine
,
't
is
better
as
it
is
.
Leo.
Good
sir
,
be
charitable
to
the
dead
.
Hu.
Be
you
first
charitable
to
the
living
.
Speake
well
,
and
thinke
so
too
,
you
do
not
know
What
benefit
may
follow
,
and
how ere
Your
womanish
sorrow
for
the
present
may
So
mist
your
eyes
,
they
will
hereafter
open
,
To
see
,
and
thanke
my
care
.
Leo.
Indeede
your
language
,
Pardon
my
boldnesse
,
sir
,
is
darke
and
mysticall
.
Hu.
You
have
your
wit
to
apprehend
sometimes
,
But
't
is
not
passion
must
excuse
your
dutie
to
me
.
Leo.
I
hope
.
Hu.
Your
hopes
may
faile
you
if
you
doe
,
Be
obedient
hereafter
,
if
you
please
,
And
love
my
directions
Leo.
I
'le
not
have
A
thought
shall
disobey
you
,
and
if
ever
I
love
agen
.
Hu.
If
ever
?
why
suppose
I
should
propound
one
to
you
,
now
i'
th
heate
Of
this
misfortune
,
can
your
heart
be
obstinate
To
me
,
and
your
owne
good
?
Leo.
This
is
too
soone
A
conscience
,
sir
,
before
his
blood
be
cold
,
To
whom
I
profest
love
,
to
like
another
?
The
World
would
much
condemne
me
.
Hu.
Is
the
World
Or
I
to
be
prefer'd
,
this
makes
the
act
Of
your
obedience
perfect
,
and
because
I
'le
have
assurance
of
what
power
I
hold
,
This
minute
I
'le
preferre
one
to
your
thoughts
,
Dispose
your
heart
to
love
the
gentleman
That
now
's
in
Prison
.
Leo.
Whom
d'
ee
meane
deere
sir
?
Hu.
He
that
kild
Delamore
,
Master
Beaumont
:
Doe
not
suspect
I
trifle
,
he
is
of
A
noble
house
,
of
a
faire
expectation
,
Handsome
in
every
part
.
Leo.
Shall
not
hee
suffer
For
the
blacke
deede
alreadie
done
?
Hu.
Compose
Your selfe
to
love
him
,
I
'le
finde
a
waie
how
to
Secure
his
life
,
and
bring
him
freelie
off
.
Leo.
Oh!
consider
ere
you
move
to
farr
;
If
having
slaine
my
comfort
,
for
I
must
Give
it
no
other
name
,
call
not
your
justice
To
my
revenge
,
yet
let
me
not
be
forc'd
,
To
have
a
thought
so
full
of
shame
to
women
,
That
he
should
be
my
husband
,
't
is
a
staine
Time
nor
repentance
can
wash
off
,
I
know
You
cannot
meane
so
cruellie
,
beside
I
shall
commit
a
sinne
,
foule
as
his
murther
,
Upon
poore
Violante
,
and
rob
her
:
Their
heart's
love
hath
seald
up
i'
th
eye
of
Heaven
,
'T
were
sacriledge
to
part
em
,
shee
's
my
friend
too
,
One
that
will
rather
die
then
injure
me
.
And
he
will
rather
suffer
,
if
he
be
Noble
as
you
professe
him
,
then
consent
to
So
foule
a
guilt
.
Hu.
Let
me
alone
for
that
,
If
he
refuse
this
offer
for
his
life
,
Why
let
him
die
,
I
'le
put
him
too
't
,
consider
,
In
this
I
shall
behold
thy
naked
soule
,
Be
rul'd
,
and
prosper
;
disobey
,
and
be
Throwne
from
my
care
and
blood
,
at
better
leasure
I
'le
tell
you
more
.
Exit
.
Leo.
Has
Heaven
no
pity
for
me
?
What
killing
language
doth
a
father
speake
?
Poore
hart
prevent
more
greife
,
and
quickly
breake
.
Exit
.
Act.
III
.
Enter
Master
Wilding
,
and
Penelope
.
Wi.
This
humour
does
become
thee
,
I
knew
when
Thou
didst
consider
,
what
was
offerd
thee
;
Thy
sullennes
wood
shake
off
,
now
thou
look'st
Fresher
then
morning
,
in
thy
melancholie
Thy
clothes
became
thee
not
.
Pene.
Y'
are
i'
th
right
,
I
blam'd
my
Tailor
for
't
,
but
I
finde
now
,
The
fault
was
in
my
countenance
,
wo'd
we
had
Some
Musicke
,
I
could
dance
now
,
la
,
la
,
la
,
bra
,
&c
,
Wi.
Excellent
!
and
shee
be
a bed
but
halfe
so
nimble
,
I
shall
have
a
fine
time
on
't
;
how
she
glides
?
Thou
wot
not
faile
?
Pen.
This
night
�
Wi.
At
the
houre
of
twelue
.
Pene.
But
you
must
be
as
punctuall
i
th
conditions
For
my
vowes
sake
,
not
speake
a
syllable
.
Wi.
I
'le
rather
cut
my
tongue
out
then
offend
thee
,
Kissing
is
no
language
.
Pene.
If
it
be
not
to
loude
;
We
must
not
be
seene
together
,
to
avoide
Suspition
,
I
would
not
for
a
world
my
cozen
Should
know
on
't
.
Wi.
Shee
shall
die
in
ignorance
.
Pene.
No
peece
of
a
Candle
.
Wi.
The
Divell
shall
not
see
us
With
his
sawcer
eyes
;
and
if
he
stumble
in
The
darke
,
there
shanot
be
a
stone
i
th
Chamber
,
To
strike
out
fire
with
's
hornes
;
all
things
shall
be
So
close
;
no
lightning
shall
peepe
in
upon
us
,
Oh
,
how
I
long
for
mid-night
!
Pene.
I
have
a
scruple
.
Wi.
Oh
,
by
no
meanes
,
no
scruples
now
.
Pene.
When
you
Have
your
desires
upon
me
,
you
will
soone
Grow
cold
in
your
affection
,
and
neglect
me
.
Wi.
Why
hang
me
if
I
doe
,
I
'le
love
thee
ever
:
I
have
cast
already
,
to
preserve
thy
honor
,
Thou
shalt
be
married
in
a
fortnight
,
cooze
,
Let
me
alone
to
finde
thee
out
a
husband
,
Handsome
and
fit
enough
,
we
will
love
then
too
.
Pene.
When
I
am
married
?
Wi.
Without
feare
or
wit
Cum
privilegio
,
when
thou
hast
a
husband
,
Dost
thinke
I
will
forsake
thee
Pen
?
't
were
pity
A
my
life
,
sweete
,
oh
there
is
no
pleasure
To
those
embraces
;
I
shall
love
thee
better
,
And
the
assurance
that
thou
hast
two
fathers
Before
thou
hast
a
child
,
will
make
thee
spring
More
active
in
my
armes
,
and
I
tell
thee
,
T
is
my
ambition
to
make
a
Cuckold
,
The
onely
pleasure
o'
th
World
:
I
wod
not
Wish
to
injoy
thee
now
,
but
in
the
hope
Of
tother
harvest
,
and
to
make
thy
husband
Hereafter
cuckold
,
that
imagination
Sweetnes
the
rest
,
and
I
do
love
it
mainely
,
mainely
.
Pene.
T
is
double
sinne
.
Wi.
T
is
treble
pleasure
wench
;
But
we
loose
time
,
and
may
endanger
thus
My
wife
into
a
jealozie
,
if
shee
see
us
,
Farewell
,
farewell
deare
Pen
.
at
night
remember
,
I
wonot
loose
my
sport
for
halfe
the
countrie
.
Exit
.
Enter
Mistris
Wilding
.
Mi.
Wi.
Thou
hast
hit
my
instructions
excellently
.
Pene.
I
have
made
worke
for
some bodie
,
you
have
put
me
Upon
a
desperate
service
,
if
you
do
not
Releeve
me
,
I
am
finely
served
.
Mi.
All
has
succeeded
to
my
wish
,
thy
place
I
will
supply
to night
,
if
he
observe
All
the
conditions
,
I
may
deceive
My
husband
into
kindnes
;
and
we
both
Live
to
reward
thee
better
,
oh
,
deere
cooze
!
Take
heede
by
my
example
,
upon
whom
Thou
placest
thy
affection
.
Enter
Hazard
.
Pene.
Master
Hazard
.
Ha
Save
mistresse
Wilding
.
Mi.
Wi.
You
are
welcome
,
sir
.
Pene.
He
is
a
handsome
gentleman
.
Ha.
Gone
abroad
?
Mi.
I
am
not
certaine
,
I
'le
inquire
.
Ha.
Your
servant
Ha!
this
is
the
frostie
gentlewoman
,
in
good
time
,
I
care
not
if
I
cast
away
some
words
on
her
,
And
yet
shee
s
so
precise
,
and
over
honest
,
I
had
as
good
nere
atempt
her
,
your
name
is
Penelope
,
I
take
it
Lady
.
Pene.
If
you
take
it
,
I
hope
you
'le
give
it
me
agen
.
Ha.
What
agen
?
Pene.
My
name
.
Ha.
What
should
I
doe
wot
?
No
,
no
,
keepe
thy
name
,
How ere
thou
dost
thy
maiden-head
.
Pene.
Can
you
tell
me
Of
any
honest
man
that
I
maie
trust
with
it
?
Ha.
I
'le
tell
thee
a
hundred
.
Pene.
Take
heede
what
you
saie
,
sir
.
A
hundred
honest
men
,
why
if
there
were
So
many
i'
th
City
,
't
were
enough
to
forfeit
Their
Charter
;
but
perhaps
you
live
in
the
Suburbs
.
Ha.
This
wench
will
jeere
me
.
Pene.
I
hope
you
are
not
one
,
sir
.
Ha,
One
of
what
?
Pene.
One
of
those
honest
men
you
talk'd
of
so
,
One
to
whose
trust
,
a
Virgin
might
commit
A
maiden-head
,
as
you
call
it
.
Ha.
Yes
,
you
may
trust
me
,
I
have
possest
a
hundred
maiden-heads
.
Pene.
How
long
?
Ha.
Nay
,
nay
;
they
are
no
commodities
to
keepe
,
Noe
fault
of
ours
:
truth
is
,
th'
are
not
worth
Preserving
,
some
of
your
owne
Sex
acknowledge
it
,
And
yet
by
your
complexion
,
you
have
yours
still
,
Away
with
't
,
and
in
time
.
Pene.
Why
you
are
modest
.
Ha.
Yave
hit
me
Lady
:
come
,
I
'le
give
thee
counsell
;
And
more
,
I
'le
helpe
thee
to
a
chap-man
too
,
Besides
what ere
he
paies
for
't
,
shall
be
at
charge
To
mold
it
of
himselfe
;
how
light
thou
'lt
be
Without
thy
maiden-head
,
dost
not
spoile
thy
sleepe
And
breede
the
night-mare
?
Pene.
Who
can
helpe
it
,
you
Gentlemen
are
such
strange
creatures
,
so
unnaturall
,
So
infinitilie
chast
,
so
mortified
With
Beefe
and
Barly-water
,
such
strange
discipline
,
And
Haire-cloth
.
Ha.
Who
weares
Haire-cloth
?
gentlewoman
?
Pene.
Such
severe
waies
to
tame
your
flesh
,
such
friends
To
fry-dayes
,
Lent
,
and
Ember-weekes
;
such
enemies
To
Sacke
,
and
marrow-Pies
,
Candles
,
and
Crabs
,
Fidlers
,
and
other
warme
restoratives
,
A
handsome
woman
can
not
reach
your
pity
,
We
may
e'en
grow
to
our
Pillowes
,
ere
you
'le
comfort
us
;
this
was
not
wont
.
Ha.
Not
wont
to
be
,
in
my
Remembrance
Ladie
.
Pene.
You
are
a
handsome
gentleman
Why
may
not
you
drinke
Wine
sometimes
,
or
eate
Sturgion
,
or
forrage
in
your
lustie-pie
Of
Aartichoke
,
or
Potato
;
or
why
may
not
Your
learned
Physition
Dictate
amber-Greece
,
Or
Powders
,
and
you
obey
him
,
in
your
Brothes
?
Have
you
so
strange
antipathy
to
women
?
To
what
end
will
gentlemen
Come
to
,
if
this
frost
hold
?
Ha.
You
are
wittie
;
But
I
suppose
you
have
no
cause
of
such
Complaint
,
how ever
some
men
do
want
heat
,
Their
is
no
generall
winter
;
I
know
a
gentleman
Can
drinke
,
and
eate
,
and
beare
you
companie
A bed
,
for
all
your
jeering
:
do
not
thinke
T
is
I
:
thou
shall
recant
this
prophane
talke
And
wooe
me
for
a
kisse
,
ere
I
'le
stoope
to
thee
.
Here
's
none
but
friends
,
if
Master
wilding
ha
not
Told
you
alreadie
,
I
will
justifie
T
is
possible
,
you
may
be
got
with
Child
.
Pene.
By
whom
?
Ha.
By
him
,
you
are
but
cozens
a farre
off
,
If
you
allow
't
,
he
neede
not
travell
farre
For
other
dispensation
,
what
say
to
him
?
Pene.
Was
this
at
his
entreatie
?
Ha.
My
owne
meere
motion
And
good
will
toward
him
,
cause
I
know
his
minde
.
Pene.
You
are
a
fine
gentleman
,
wher
's
your
land
?
You
may
be
Knight
o'
th
Shire
in
time
:
farrewell
,
sir
.
Ha.
I
know
not
what
to
make
on
her
,
she
may
be
Exit
.
A
tumbler
,
for
all
this
,
I
'le
to
her
agen
.
Exit
.
Enter
old
Barnacle
,
and
Leonora
.
Ba.
Nay
,
nay
,
be
comforted
,
and
mistake
me
not
,
I
did
not
mention
Delamore
to
provoke
These
teares
:
hee
's
gone
,
thinke
on
your
living
friends
.
Leo.
If
you
be
one
,
good
sir
�
Ba.
Yes
,
I
am
one
:
And
yet
mistake
me
not
,
I
doe
not
come
Awooing
for
my selfe
,
I
am
past
Tilting
,
But
for
my
Nephew
,
oh
that
Nephew
of
mine
!
I
know
Sr.
Richard
Hurry
,
you
wise
father
,
Will
thinke
well
of
him
,
Nay
,
nay
,
weeping
still
.
Leo.
It
is
too
soone
to
thinke
of
any
other
.
Bar.
To
soone
to
thinke
of
any
other
,
why
,
What
woman
of
discretion
,
but
is
furnish'd
With
a
second
husband
ere
the
first
be
coffend
?
He
that
stayes
till
the
Funerall
be
past
,
Is
held
a
modest
coxcombe
,
and
why
should
not
Maides
be
as
early
in
their
provision
?
Leo.
I
blush
to
thinke
,
my
father
of
his
mind
,
Distressed
Leonora
good
.
sir
loose
No
more
breath
,
I
am
resolved
to
die
a
Virgin
I
know
not
what
love
is
.
And
yet
these
teares
Are
shed
for
one
you
lov'd
.
Leo.
He
that
was
all
My
treasure
living
,
beeing
lost
must
needs
Be
a
great
part
of
sorrow
:
but
my
eyes
Though
they
can
never
paie
to
many
drops
To
the
sad
memory
of
Delamore
,
Shed
not
all
these
for
him
,
there
is
another
That
makes
me
weepe
.
Bar.
Another
whom
you
love
?
Leo.
Heaven
knowes
I
never
let
into
my
heart
,
Affection
to
a
second
,
I
am
so
farre
From
loving
him
,
I
wish
we
may
nere
meete
,
I
am
not
safe
in
my
owne
bosome
,
while
I
thinke
upon
him
,
it
begets
new
springs
Within
my
eyes
;
which
will
in
litle
time
,
Rise
to
a
flood
,
and
drowne
me
.
Bar.
I
conceive
This
is
no
friend
of
yours
,
come
I
'le
releeve
you
,
Nay
,
and
there
be
any
man
that
troubles
you
,
If
there
be
any
you
'd
have
talk'd
withall
,
I
'le
rid
you
of
that
care
,
he
that
shall
offer
But
to
disturbe
you
in
a
thought
,
d'
ee
marke
me
?
I
'le
take
an
order
with
him
.
Leo.
What
will
you
doe
?
Bar.
Do
not
mistake
me
neither
,
I
'le
do
nothing
,
But
send
my
Nephew
,
he
shall
top
him
,
And
top
him
,
and
scourge
him
like
a
top
too
.
You
know
not
how
my
Nephew
is
improv'd
Since
you
last
saw
him
,
valiant
as
Hercules
,
He
has
knock'd
the
flower
of
Chivalry
,
the
verie
Donzal
del
Phebo
of
the
time
.
and
all
The
blades
do
reverence
him
;
I
'le
say
no
more
,
Name
but
the
man
whom
you
do
frowne
upon
,
And
let
me
send
my
Nephew
to
him
.
Leo.
Shanot
neede
.
I
have
no
enemie
to
engage
his
sword
,
My
discontents
flow
from
a
neerer
person
,
I
grieve
to
say
my
father
.
Bar.
How
?
your
father
Say
but
the
word
and
I
will
send
my
Nephew
To
him
,
and
he
were
ten
fathers
he
can
mollifie
him
,
To
please
you
Lady
,
my
Nephew
never
spare
him
,
Oh
,
had
you
seene
him
baffle
a
squire
this
morning
!
Leo.
Pray
no
more
,
you
shall
do
me
a
noble
office
.
To
leave
me
to
my selfe
.
Enter
Servant
.
Ser.
Mistresse
Violante
Is
come
to
visit
you
.
Leo.
I
waite
upon
her
,
Your
gentle
pardon
.
Exit
.
Ba.
Would
my
Nephew
had
her
.
Shee
is
S.
Richards
heire
,
and
here
he
is
.
S.
Richard
?
Enter
S.
Richard
Hurry
,
and
Surgeon
.
Hu.
Oh
Master
Barnacle
,
I
'le
waite
upon
you
.
Bar.
That
's
Master
Probe
the
Surgeon
.
Hu.
No
more
you
know
my
meaning
.
Pr.
Yes
,
sir
.
Hu.
Let
him
be
buried
.
Pr.
I
understand
you
,
sir
.
Exit
.
Bar.
I
have
beene
discoursing
With
your
faire
daughter
.
Hu.
Where
is
Leonora
?
Ser.
Shee
's
within
,
sir
.
Hu.
Bid
her
come
hither
,
Master
Barnacle
I
am
something
troubled
about
a
gentleman
.
Bar.
And
I
am
glad
I
met
with
you
:
If
you
be
troubled
with
any
gentleman
,
I
'le
send
my
Nephew
to
him
.
Hu.
To
whom
,
or
whither
?
Bar.
To
any
man
alive
,
I
care
not
whether
.
Hu.
Send
him
to
Jerusalem
.
Bar.
That
's
something
o'
th
furthest
,
I
shall
be
Unwilling
he
should
travell
out
o'
th
Kingdome
.
Enter
Leonora
,
Violante
aloofe
.
Hu.
Leonera
?
Neerer
�
Ba.
Who
is
that
?
A
prettie
gentlewoman
!
save
you
mistresse
,
What
is
your
name
I
pray
?
Vio.
I
am
cal'd
Violante
.
Bar.
Are
you
a
maide
?
Vio.
I
should
be
sorrie
else
.
Bar.
D'
ee
know
my
Nephew
?
Vio.
Not
I
,
sir
.
Bar.
Not
my
Nephew
?
how
have
you
beene
bred
?
Why
hee
's
the
onley
gallant
o'
th
Towne
,
Please
you
I
'le
send
him
to
you
.
Vio.
What
to
doe
,
sir
.
Ba.
He
shall
do
any
thing
,
the
townes
afraid
on
him
.
Vio.
Oh!
praie
keepe
him
from
me
then
.
Bar.
Hee
'le
hurt
no
women
,
but
for
the
men
�
Vio.
Ther
's
one
has
hurt
to
much
alreadie
.
Bar.
What
is
he
?
I
'le
send
my
Nephew
to
him
Lady
,
If
you
have
any
occasion
,
never
spare
him
.
Vio.
Not
I
,
sir
.
Hu.
Looke
to
't
,
and
correct
this
humor
.
I
'le
to
him
presentlie
,
Master
Barnacle
,
Let
me
intreat
your
companie
to
a
gentleman
,
I
'le
waite
as
much
on
you
.
Bar.
You
shall
command
mee
:
If
't
be
to
any
man
you
care
not
for
,
Wee
'le
take
my
Nephew
along
.
Exeunt
Hu.
It
sha
not
neede
,
Leo.
Oh
Violante
!
I
Must
now
require
some
fruite
of
all
thy
promises
.
Vio.
You
hold
me
not
suspected
.
Leo.
Leonora
Cannot
be
so
ingratefull
:
but
we
have
Small
limit
for
discourse
,
my
father
meanes
To
visit
Beaumont
,
now
in
Prison
,
thou
Wilt
heare
too
soone
the
storie
,
and
without
Prevention
finde
thy selfe
more
miserable
.
Oh
Violante
:
I
will
suffer
with
him
Rather
then
injure
thee
,
I
prethee
go
Uisit
thy
friend
,
not
mine
,
and
as
thou
lou'st
mee
,
As
thou
lou'st
him
,
or
thy
owne
life
,
Violante
,
Bid
him
be
constant
to
thee
,
tell
him
what
fame
Dwells
upon
noble
lovers
,
that
have
seal'd
Faith
to
their
Mistresses
in
blood
:
what
glorie
Can
perjur'd
men
expect
,
that
loose
their
honor
To
save
a
poore
breath
?
bid
him
be
assur'd
,
If
for
the
hope
of
life
,
his
soule
can
be
So
much
corrupted
to
embrace
a
thought
That
I
shall
ever
love
him
�
Vio.
You
Leonora
?
Leo.
Never
,
oh
,
never
;
tell
him
so
:
by
vertue
,
And
the
cold
blood
of
my
slaine
Delamore
,
Although
my
father
threaten
death
.
Vio.
Your
father
?
Leo.
Make
hast
sweete
Violante
,
to
the
Prison
;
There
thou
shalt
know
all
,
there
thou
shalt
have
proofe
How
much
thou
art
belov'd
,
and
by
my
death
,
If
he
prove
false
to
thee
,
how
much
I
love
thee
.
Exit
.
Vio.
I
am
amaz'd
,
and
my
soule
much
distracted
Twixt
griefe
,
and
wonder
,
it
growes
late
i'
th
morning
,
I
le
visit
the
sad
Prisoner
,
my
hart
trembles
,
More
can
but
kill
me
too
,
I
'm
,
fit
to
die
,
And
woes
but
hasten
immortality
.
Exit
.
Enter
Hazard
,
and
a
Box-keeper
.
Ha.
How
now
?
what
Gamesters
?
Bo.
Little
to
any
purpose
yet
,
but
we
Expect
deepe
play
to night
.
Enter
Wilding
.
Wi.
Will
Hazard
,
I
have
beene
seeking
thee
this
Two
howers
,
and
now
I
have
found
thee
,
avoide
me
.
Ha.
Thar'
t
not
infectious
.
Wi.
No
,
but
I
swell
with
my
imaginations
Like
a
tall
Ship
,
bound
for
the
fortunate
Ilands
;
Top
,
and
Top-gallant
,
my
flags
,
and
my
figaries
Upon
me
with
a
lustie
gale
of
winde
Able
to
rend
my
sailes
,
I
shall
o'rerunne
,
And
sinke
thy
little
Barke
of
understanding
In
my
careere
boy
.
Ha.
Pray
heaven
rather
You
do
not
spring
a
leake
,
and
forfit
your
Ballast
,
my
confident
man
of
Warre
,
I
Have
knowne
as
stout
a
Ship
beene
cast
away
In
sight
o'
th
Harbour
.
Wi.
The
wench
,
the
wench
boy
.
Ha.
The
Vessell
you
have
beene
chasing
.
Wi.
Has
strooke
Saile
,
Is
come
in
,
and
cries
abord
my
new
Lord
of
The
Mediterranean
,
we
are
agree'd
,
This
is
the
pretious
night
Will
;
twelve
the
hower
;
That
I
must
take
possession
of
all
,
Of
all
;
there
are
some
Articles
agreed
on
.
Enter
a
Lord
,
and
Sell-away
.
Whoe
's
this
?
Ha.
Oh!
the
Gamesters
now
come
in
:
That
gaie
man
is
a
Lord
,
and
with
him
Sell-away
.
Wi.
They
are
well
coupled
,
a
Lord
and
Sell-away
.
Ha.
He
weares
good
clothes
you
see
,
and
in
the
street
More
look'd
at
then
the
Pageants
,
he
will
talke
litle
.
Wi.
To
purpose
.
Ha.
Right
,
he
cannot
walke
Out
of
his
sincopace
,
and
no
man
carries
Legs
more
in
tune
,
he
is
danc'd
now
from
his
sempstresse
.
Wi.
A
man
much
bound
to
his
Tailor
.
Ha.
And
his
Barber
.
He
has
a
notable
head
.
Wi.
Of
haire
thou
mean'st
.
Ha.
Which
is
sometime
hung
in
more
Bride-laces
Then
well
would
furnish
out
two
Country
weddings
Wi.
Is
he
a
Scholler
?
Ha.
T
is
not
necessary
.
He
is
neither
Scholler
,
nor
a
Courtier
,
If
report
wrong
him
not
.
Wi.
VVill
.
He
playes
mony
freely
.
Ha.
With
more
pride
then
he
weares
embrodery
.
T
is
his
ambition
to
loose
that
:
and
A
wench
mainetaines
his
swearing
,
let
him
passe
.
VVi.
What
's
next
.
Enter
a
Knight
,
and
Acre-lesse
.
Ha.
A
Knight
,
and
Acre-lesse
.
VVi.
Good
agen
,
a
Knight
and
Acre-lesse
,
what
's
his
condition
.
VVi.
A
Gamester
both
waies
.
VVi.
Where
be
his
Spurres
?
Ha.
Hang
in
his
mistresses
Peticote
,
for
which
hee
pawnd
His
Knight-hood
too
,
till
a
good
hand
redeeme
it
,
He
will
talke
you
nothing
but
postilions
Embroideries
for
his
Coach
,
and
Flanders
Mares
:
What
severall
sutes
for
the
twelue
dayes
at
Christmas
,
How
many
Ladies
dote
upon
his
physnomy
:
That
hee
is
limited
but
a
hundred
pound
A
month
for
diet
,
which
will
scarce
maintaine
him
In
Phesant
egges
an
Turky
for
his
motion
.
Now
does
his
Barge
attend
him
,
if
he
came
By
water
,
but
if
the
Dice
chance
to
runne
counter
,
He
stayes
till
twelue
in
anger
,
devours
smoke
,
And
desperately
will
shoot
the
Bridge
at
midnight
Without
a
waterman
.
VVi.
The
house
fills
a pace
What
are
these
ha
?
Enter
a
Countrie
gentleman
,
and
Little-stocke
.
Ha.
A
Countrie
gentleman
,
and
Little-stocke
.
VVi.
A
Countrie
gentleman
?
I
have
seene
him
sure
Appeare
in
other
shape
,
is
he
a
Christian
?
Ha.
Why
?
dost
thou
doubt
him
?
VVi.
Cause
I
have
met
him
with
a
Turbant
once
,
If
I
mistake
not
,
but
his
linnen
was
not
So
handsome
altogether
as
the
Turkes
In
quirpo
with
a
Crab-tree
cudgell
too
,
Walking
and
canting
broken
Dutch
for
farthings
.
Ha.
The
apparition
of
an
Angell
once
Brought
him
to
this
.
Wi.
Dost
call
him
countrie
gentleman
?
Ha.
His
generation
is
not
knowne
i'
th
Towne
,
You
see
what
Dice
can
do
,
now
hee
's
admir'd
.
Wi.
For
what
I
prethee
?
Ha.
For
talking
non-sense
,
when
he
has
lost
his
mony
You
shall
meete
him
going
up
and
downe
the
ordinary
To
borrow
monie
upon
his
head
.
Wi.
His
head
,
Will
he
goe
upon
his
head
,
or
will
he
pawne
it
?
Ha.
Pawne
it
,
if
any
man
will
lend
him
mony
on
't
,
And
sayes
't
is
good
securitie
,
because
He
cannot
be
long
without
it
,
they
shall
have
The
wit
for
the
use
too
,
he
will
talke
desperatelie
,
And
sweare
he
is
the
father
of
all
the
Bulls
Since
Adam
,
if
all
faile
he
has
a
project
To
print
his
jests
.
Wi.
His
Bulls
you
meane
,
Ha.
Y'
are
right
,
And
dedicate
'em
to
the
Gamesters
,
yet
he
will
Seeme
wise
sometimes
,
deliver
his
opinions
As
on
the
Bench
:
in
beere
he
utters
sentences
,
And
after
Sacke
Philosophy
.
Wi.
Let
's
not
be
troubl'd
with
him
,
who
are
these
?
Yong
Barnacle
?
Enter
Nephew
,
and
Dwindle
.
Will
you
indure
him
.
Ha.
Yes
,
and
the
Vineger-bottle
his
man
too
:
but
now
I
thinke
on
't
he
shall
excuse
me
,
I
'le
loose
no
time
;
if
I
winne
,
I
shall
have
lesse
cause
to
repent
,
if
I
loose
,
by
these
hilts
I
'le
make
him
the
cause
and
beate
him
.
Enter
Sell-away
.
Are
they
at
play
?
Sel
,
Deepe
,
deepe
Gamesters
.
Ha.
Then
luke
with
a
hundred
peeces
.
Wi.
I
'le
follow
,
how
now
Franke
?
what
in
the
name
of
folly
is
hee
reading
?
Ne.
Save
you
gentlemen
,
save
you
noble
gallants
:
May
a
man
loose
any
monie
?
I
honor
,
sir
,
your
shadow
.
Sel.
This
is
another
humor
.
Ne.
D'
ee
here
the
newes
gentlemen
?
Wi.
What
newes
I
pray
?
Ne.
The
new
Curranto
.
Sel.
Good
,
sir
,
impart
.
Ne.
Be
there
no
more
gentlemen
to
heare
it
Here
?
't
is
extraordinarie
fine
newes
,
in
blacke
and
white
,
From
Terra
incognita
.
Wi.
Terra
incognita
?
Ne.
I
,
sir
,
the
quintessence
of
the
World
:
for
our
foure
parts
Europe
,
Asia
,
Affricke
,
and
America
,
are
as
the
foure
Elements
,
and
this
,
as
the
learned
Geographers
say
,
is
Like
Coelum
,
a
fift
essence
or
quintessence
of
the
World
.
Wi.
Pray
,
Sir
,
what
newes
from
this
quintessence
,
it
must
Needs
be
refin'd
novelties
.
Ne.
From
Slavonia
.
Wi.
That
's
no
part
of
Terra
incognita
,
we
know
that
.
Ni.
But
you
doe
not
know
that
Slavonia
I
meane
,
't
is
Inhabited
by
a
Nation
without
a
head
.
Dwi.
Without
a
head
in
?
what
part
are
their
eyes
?
Ne.
Peace
Dwîndle
:
a
cursed
kinde
of
people
that
have
Neither
Law
,
nor
Religion
but
for
their
owne
purposes
:
Their
Country
is
somewhat
low
,
and
open
to
the
Sea
.
Sel.
Do
they
not
feare
drowning
?
Ne.
They
are
safest
in
a
tempest
,
if
they
be
taken
at
any
time
by
their
enemies
,
and
cast
over-bord
,
they
turne
other
creatures
,
some
Rocks
,
some
Sharkes
,
some
Crocadiles
,
and
so
retaine
part
of
their
former
nature
.
Wi.
What
do
those
that
dwell
ashore
?
Ne.
They
follow
their
worke
,
and
make
nets
not
only
to
catch
Fish
,
but
Townes
and
Provinces
:
the
Jewes
Are
innocent
to
'em
,
and
the
Divell
a
dunce
,
of
whose
Trade
they
are
.
Sel.
A
dangerous
generation
.
Ne.
In
Perwiggana
a
fruitfull
Country
,
the
moone
shines
All
day
,
and
the
Sunne
at
night
.
Sel.
That
's
strange
,
hee
has
a
morall
in
't
have
not
wee
gentlemen
that
sit
up
all
night
a
drinking
,
and
go
to
bed
when
the
sunne
rises
?
Ne.
In
this
Province
the
King
never
comes
out
of
his
Palace
.
VVi.
How
does
the
Court
remove
there
?
Ne.
When
he
does
purpose
to
change
the
aire
,
hee
has
an
Elephant
richly
trapped
,
that
carries
the
Court
upon
his
backe
into
what
part
of
the
Kingdome
he
please
.
VVi.
I
have
heard
of
Elephants
,
that
have
carried
Castles
.
Ne.
Snailes
,
Snailes
in
comparison
:
and
to
increase
your
wonder
!
this
beast
does
never
drinke
.
VVi.
I
would
be
loth
to
keepe
him
companie
.
Sel.
How
then
?
Ne.
Eate
,
eate
altogether
,
and
what
nothing
but
men
,
and
of
what
ranke
or
condition
,
none
but
great
men
,
and
the
fattest
nobilitie
,
but
like
your
good
Mounsieur
hee
cares
for
nothing
but
the
head
,
and
it
is
confidently
reported
hee
has
devoured
more
heads
,
within
this
three
last
yeeres
,
then
the
Elephant
wee
had
in
England
;
eate
Pennie
Loves
in
seaven
.
Dwi.
The
Divell
choke
him
would
hee
had
London
Bridge
in
his
bellie
too
.
Ne.
The
subjects
of
the
great
Duke
of
Lubber-land
ha's
beene
lately
in
rebellion
.
Wi.
I
am
sorry
it
will
be
inconvenient
to
heare
out
your
Curranto
,
I
am
weary
of
a
little
monie
when
that
's
lost
I
may
bee
a
sutor
for
the
rest
of
your
newes
,
and
so
I
commend
mee
to
all
your
friends
in
Lubber-Land
.
Exit
.
Ne.
Dwîndle
,
didst
heare
this
,
now
could
I
be
angry
.
Dwi.
Goe
to
play
then
,
sir
,
if
you
loose
your
monie
,
you
may
talke
roundly
to
'em
for
they
cannot
bee
so
uncivill
as
not
to
give
loosers
leave
to
speake
.
Ne.
But
if
I
winne
.
Dwi.
Why
then
you
may
be
drunke
to night
and
I
'le
�
the
Caster
to
you
.
Enter
Little-Stocke
,
Acre-lesse
.
Lit.
A
curse
upon
these
reeling
Dice
,
that
last
in
,
and
in
Was
out
of
my
way
ten
peeces
;
canst
lend
me
any
Monie
,
how
have
the
cards
dealt
with
thee
.
Acr.
Lost
,
lost
�
I
defie
thee
,
if
my
Knight
recover
not
I
must
be
sober
to morrow
.
Lit.
Oh
,
for
a
hundred
and
all
made
now
.
Enter
Sell-away
.
Sel.
Yonder
's
�
winnes
tirannically
,
without
Mercie
,
he
came
in
but
with
hundred
peeces
.
Lit.
I
'le
get
a
fancy
presently
.
Acr.
And
how
thrive
the
bones
with
his
Lordship
Sel.
His
Lordships
bones
are
not
well
set
they
are
maliciously
bent
against
him
they
will
runne
him
quite
out
of
all
.
Enter
Nephew
,
and
Dwindle
.
Ne.
More
mony
Dwindle
call
my
Uncle
:
I
must
have
it
,
for
my
honor
,
two
hundred
peeces
more
Will
serve
my
turne
;
in
the
meane
time
I
will
play
away
my
Cloke
and
some
superfluous
things
about
me
.
Dwi.
By
that
time
you
are
come
to
your
shirt
,
I
shall
bee
here
.
Sel.
Hee
's
blowne
up
too
.
Exit
.
Enter
Hazard
.
Ha.
So
,
so
,
the
Dice
in
two
or
three
such
nights
will
be
out
of
my
debt
,
and
I
may
live
to
be
a
land-lord
agen
.
Sel.
You
are
fortunes
minion
Master
.
Ha.
You
wod
seeme
to
be
no
foole
,
because
she
dotes
not
Upon
you
gentlemen
,
I
must
take
my
chance
;
't
was
A
lucky
hundred
pown'd
Jacke
Wilding
.
Enter
Wilding
gnawing
a
Boxe
.
What
eating
the
Boxes
.
Acr.
Let
us
in
agen
.
Wi.
Chewing
thy
cud
a
litle
,
I
have
lost
all
my
monie
Will
Thou
hast
made
a
fortunate
night
on
't
wot
Play
no
more
.
Ha.
T
is
the
first
time
I
had
the
grace
to
give
off
a
winner
I
wonot
tempt
the
Dice
.
Wi.
What
hast
wonne
?
Ha.
You
doe
not
heare
mee
complaine
I
have
not
been
so
warme
This
tenn
weekes
.
Enter
Acre-lesse
.
Wi.
T
is
frost
in
my
breeches
.
Acr.
Master
Hazard
,
I
was
afraid
you
had
beene
gone
,
there
's
a
fresh
Gamester
come
in
with
his
pockets
full
of
Gold
;
he
dazeles
the
Gamesters
,
and
no
man
has
stocke
to
play
with
him
.
Wi.
What
is
he
?
Acr.
A
Merchant
he
seemes
;
he
may
be
worth
your
retire
.
Ha.
Not
for
the
Exchange
to night
,
I
am
resolv'd
.
Wi.
Temptation
!
now
have
I
an
infinite
itch
to
this
Merchants
peeces
.
Ha.
If
thou
wot
have
any
monie
,
Speake
before
I
launch
out
,
and
command
it
.
Wi.
A
hundred
peeces
.
Ha.
Call
to
the
Master
o'
th
house
by
this
token
�
thou
wot
venture
agen
then
?
Wi.
They
may
prove
as
luckie
as
thine
�
but
what
do
I
forget
?
the
wench
,
the
fairy
at
home
,
that
expects
me
.
Ha.
I
had
forgot
too
,
you
wonot
play
now
.
Wi.
T
is
now
upon
the
time
.
Ha.
By
any
meanes
goe
.
Wi.
Hum
,
I
ha
lost
my
monie
,
and
may
recover
a
prety
wench
.
which
hand
?
here
covetousnes
,
this
letchery
;
monie
is
the
heavier
.
Will
,
dost
heare
?
I
'le
requite
thy
curtesie
.
Thou
hast
lent
me
a
hundred
pownd
,
I
'le
pay
thee
agen
,
and
thou
shat
have
for
the
use
,
the
flesh
device
at
home
that
expects
,
thou
shat
supply
my
place
Will
.
Ha.
You
wonot
loose
this
opportunitie
,
and
foole
your selfe
.
Exit
.
Acre
.
Wi.
I
am
resolv'd
;
five
hundred
peeces
say
I
'le
come
to
him
,
you
love
the
sport
as
well
as
I
:
to morrow
you
shall
thanke
me
for
't
;
be
secret
,
shee
'le
never
know
thee
,
for
our
conditions
are
to
�
Neither
light
nor
�
and
she
must
needs
conceive
t
is
I
.
Ha.
Are
you
in
earnest
?
Wi.
Have
you
wit
to
apprehend
the
curtesie
?
Let
me
alone
:
the
wench
,
and
I
shall
meete
Hereafter
and
be
merry
,
here
's
my
Key
The
Merchants
monie
cooles
away
:
be
wise
And
keepe
conditions
to
use
her
at
thy
pleasure
,
There
will
be
enough
for
me
:
nay
no
demurres
,
You
have
not
lost
your
stomacke
to
this
game
How ere
I
speed
tonight
,
wee
'le
laugh
to morrow
How
the
poore
wench
was
cosen'd
.
Ha.
But
wouldst
ha
mee
goe
?
Wi.
I
wod
ha
thee
ride
boy
,
I
must
to
the
Gamester
Farewell
,
remember
not
to
speake
a
word
,
but
Kisse
and
embrace
thy
belly
full
.
Ha.
If
I
do
not
,
The
punishment
of
an
Eunuch
light
upon
me
.
Act.
IIII
.
Enter
Hazard
and
Wilding
.
Wi.
How
now
Will
,
thou
lookst
desperatly
this
morning
.
Didst
sleepe
well
to night
?
Ha.
Yes
,
't
is
very
like
I
went
to
sleepe
;
but
such
a
bed-fellow
!
Wi.
What
ailes
she
;
was
she
dull
?
Ha.
Do
not
enquire
But
curse
your selfe
till
noone
,
I
am
charitable
I
do
not
bid
thee
hange
thy selfe
,
and
yet
I
have
cause
to
thanke
thee
,
I
would
not
have
lost
The
turne
,
for
all
the
monie
I
wonne
last
night
Jacke
,
Such
a
delicious
thieft
.
Wi.
I
thinke
so
.
Ha.
I
found
it
so
and
dare
make
my
affidavit
.
Wi.
Thou
didst
not
see
her
?
Ha.
Nor
speake
to
her
,
to
what
purpose
.
Shee
was
so
handsome
i'
th
darke
,
you
know
My
meaning
,
had
beene
pittie
any
light
Or
voyce
should
interrupt
us
.
Wi.
Now
doe
I
Grow
melancholy
.
Ha.
If
thou
do'st
envie
mee
There
is
some
reason
for
't
,
thou
do'st
imagine
I
have
had
pleasure
in
my
dayes
,
but
never
,
Never
,
so
sweete
a
skirmish
,
how
like
joy
Shee
grew
to
my
embraces
,
not
a
kisse
But
had
Elisium
in
't
.
Wi.
I
was
a
rascall
.
Ha.
If
thou
didst
know
but
halfe
so
much
as
I
Or
couldst
imagine
it
,
thou
wouldst
acknowledge
Thy selfe
worse
then
a
rascall
on
Record
.
I
have
not
words
to
expresse
,
how
soft
,
how
bountious
How
everie
thing
a
man
with
full
desires
Could
wish
a
Lady
,
do
not
question
mee
Further
;
t
is
too
much
happines
to
remember
I
am
sorry
I
have
said
so
much
.
Wi.
Was
not
I
curst
To
loose
my
monie
,
and
such
delicate
sport
?
Ha.
But
that
I
love
thee
well
shud'st
nere
injoy
her
.
Wi.
Why
?
Ha.
I
would
almost
cut
thy
throate
.
Wi.
You
wod
not
.
Ha.
But
take
her
,
and
if
thou
part'st
with
her
,
one
night
more
for
lesse
then
both
the
Indies
thou
't
loose
by
her
,
shee
has
paid
me
for
my
service
,
I
aske
nothing
else
.
Wi.
If
she
be
such
a
precious
armefull
Will
I
thinke
you
may
be
satisfied
.
Ha.
Take
heede
,
And
understand
thy selfe
a
little
better
:
I
thinke
you
may
be
satisfied
with
what
?
A
handsome
wench
't
is
heresie
recant
it
I
never
shall
be
satisfied
.
Wi.
You
do
not
purpose
.
Purpose
a
new
incounter
.
Ha.
For
thy
sake
T
is
possible
I
may
not
,
I
would
have
My
game
kept
for
me
;
what
I
have
done
Was
upon
your
entreatie
,
if
you
have
The
like
occasion
hereafter
I
Should
have
a
hard
heart
to
deny
thee
Jacke
.
VVi.
Thou
hast
fir'd
my
blood
,
that
I
could
call
backe
time
,
And
be
possest
of
what
my
indiscretion
Gave
up
to
thy
enjoying
,
but
I
am
comforted
,
She
thinks
't
was
I
,
and
we
hereafter
may
Be
free
in
our
delights
:
now
,
sir
,
the
newes
With
you
?
Enter
Page
.
Pa.
My
mistresse
did
command
my
diligence
To
find
you
out
and
pray
you
come
to
speake
with
her
.
Wi.
When
I
am
at
leasure
.
Pa.
T
is
of
consequence
,
Shee
sayes
,
and
much
concernes
you
.
Wi.
Is
Penelope
With
her
?
Pa.
Not
when
she
sent
mee
forth
.
Wi.
Let
her
expect
:
waite
you
on
me
.
Ha.
I
spie
my
blustering
Gamester
.
Wi.
The
yonger
ferret
.
Ha.
I
care
not
if
I
allow
thee
a
fit
of
mirth
But
your
boy
must
be
in
comfort
.
Enter
Nephew
and
Dwindle
.
Dwi.
Pray
,
sir
,
do
not
behave
your selfe
so
furiouslie
,
Your
breath
is
able
to
blow
downe
a
house
,
sir
.
Ne.
My
Uncle
shall
build
'em
up
againe
,
oh
Dwindle
,
Thou
dost
not
know
what
honor
't
is
to
bee
So
boisterous
,
I
would
take
the
wall
now
Of
my
Lord
Maiors
Gyants
.
Wi.
Doe
as
I
bid
you
,
sirra
.
Pa.
Alas
,
sir
,
hee
'le
devoure
me
.
Ha.
He
shanot
hurt
thee
.
Pa.
Be
at
my
backe
then
pray
,
sir
,
now
I
thinke
on
't
I
have
the
beard
here
too
with
which
I
frighted
Our
maides
last
night
.
Dwi.
You
know
these
gentlemen
.
Ne.
Hazard
,
and
Wilding
?
how
i'
st
?
how
i'
st
Bulchins
?
Wo'dye
had
beene
with
us
;
I
ha
so
mald
a
Captaine
O'
th
traine
band
yonder
.
Pa.
Is
not
your
name
Barnacle
?
Ha.
Ancient
Petarre
?
Ne.
What
's
this
?
Wi.
The
admiration
of
the
Towne
.
Ne.
For
what
?
Wi.
For
valour
.
Ne.
This
inch
and
a
halfe
?
Wi.
Ther
's
the
wonder
,
oh
the
spirit
,
the
tall
spirit
Within
him
he
has
the
soule
of
a
Giant
.
Ne.
He
has
but
a
dwarfs
body
,
ancient
Petarre
.
Pa.
Sirra
,
how
dare
you
name
a
Captaine
?
Thou
tunne
of
ignorance
,
he
shall
eate
my
Pistole
,
And
save
me
the
discharge
.
Ne.
Tell
me
of
a
tun
?
I
'le
drinke
twenty
tunnes
to
thy
Health
,
who
shall
hinder
me
if
I
have
a
Minde
too
't
,
your
Pistol
's
a
Pepper-corne
,
I
will
eate
Up
an
armory
,
if
my
stomacke
serve
,
so
long
as
I
Have
mony
to
pay
for
't
,
and
you
were
as
little
agen
As
you
are
:
fright
me
with
your
potguns
,
my
name's
Barnacle
,
sir
,
call
me
what
you
please
,
and
my
Mans
name
's
Dwindle
,
and
you
goe
there
to
,
do
not
Thinke
but
I
have
seene
fire-drakes
afore
now
though
I
never
talk'd
on
't
,
and
Rackets
too
,
though
my
man
Be
a
Coxcombe
here
,
and
balls
of
wild-fire
,
no
dispraise
To
you
;
d'
ee
thinke
to
thunder
me
with
your
Picke
Tooth
by
your
side
?
Pa.
Let
my
sword
shew
him
but
one
flash
of
lightning
To
singe
the
haire
of
his
head
off
.
Ha.
Good
ancient
Petarre
.
Dwi.
T
is
a
very
divell
in
decimo
sexto
,
Peter
d'
e
call
him
?
Pa.
Thou
dogbolt
and
cozen
germane
to
Cerbenus
.
Ha.
Two
heads
once
remov'd
,
hee
's
somewhat
like
him
.
Ne.
I
begin
to
thinke
.
Dwi.
And
I
begin
to
�
Pa.
Agen
.
Wi.
He
does
but
thinke
.
Pa.
He
thinke
?
is
this
a
place
for
him
to
thinke
in
?
Minotaure
,
vanish
immediately
,
or
I
will
shoot
death
From
my
Mustachios
and
kill
thee
like
a
Porcupine
.
Ne.
Ancient
Petarre
,
I
know
thy
name
and
I
Honor
it
,
thar'
t
one
of
the
most
vaineglorious
Peeces
of
fire-worke
that
ever
water
wet
.
I
am
a
Gentleman
,
and
if
I
have
say'd
any
thing
to
disgust
Thee
,
I
can
aske
thee
forgivenes
,
as
well
as
the
Proudest
vassell
on
'em
all
,
extend
thy
paw
,
thou
Invincible
Epitome
of
Hercules
,
and
let
thy
servant
Kisse
it
.
Wi.
Come
pray
,
sir
,
be
reconcil'd
;
he
submits
.
Pa.
I
see
thou
hast
something
in
thee
of
a
Soldier
,
to
no
Purpose
,
and
I
will
cherish
it
.
Thou
art
a
raskall
in
thy
understanding
,
thou
shat
excuse
me
,
Turke
,
in
honorable
love
:
I
remember
thy
great
grand-Father
was
hang'd
for
robbing
a
Pedler-woman
of
sixe
yards
of
inckle
,
and
thou
mayst
,
(
mauger
the
Herald
)
in
a
right
line
,
challenge
the
gallowes
by
his
copie
;
mongrell
of
mongrell
Hall
.
I
am
thy
humble
servant
,
and
will
cut
the
throate
of
any
man
that
sayes
thou
hast
eyther
wit
or
honesty
more
then
is
fit
for
a
gentleman
.
Command
my
sword
,
my
lungs
,
my
life
,
thou
art
a
puffe
,
a
mulligrube
,
a
Metaphysicall
Coxcombe
,
and
I
honour
you
with
all
my
hart
.
Ne.
I
thanke
you
noble
ancient
,
and
kinde
gentlemen
.
Come
Dwindle
,
wee
'le
go
rore
somewhere
else
.
Wi.
Was
ever
such
an
offe
?
Exit
.
Ha.
The
boy
hid
hit
his
humour
excellently
.
Here
,
cherish
thy
wit
.
Pa.
Now
shall
I
tell
my
mistresse
you
'le
come
to
her
?
VVi.
How
officious
you
are
for
your
mistresse
,
sirra
?
What
said
shee
I
came
not
home
all
night
?
Pa.
Nothing
to
me
;
but
my
eyes
ne're
beheld
Her
looke
more
pleasantly
.
Ha.
Now
farewell
Jacke
,
I
neede
not
urge
your
secresie
Touching
your
mistres
,
I
have
mounted
for
you
:
Only
I
'le
caution
you
,
looke
when
you
meete
That
you
performe
your
busines
handsomely
.
I
ha
begun
so
well
shee
may
suspect
else
,
And
put
thee
out
of
service
,
if
shee
doe
,
You
know
your
wages
,
I
shall
laugh
at
thee
,
And
hartilie
;
so
farewell
,
farewell
Jacke
.
Exit
.
VVi.
To
say
the
truth
I
have
shewed
my selfe
a
coxcombe
.
A
pox
a
play
that
made
me
double
looser
.
For
ought
I
know
,
she
may
admit
me
never
To
such
a
turne
agen
,
and
then
I
ha
punished
My selfe
ingeniouslie
.
Enter
Mistris
Wilding
,
Penelope
,
and
Mistris
Leonora
,
a
Servant
waiting
upon
them
.
My
wife
.
Pag.
My
Mistresse
,
sir
.
Wi.
Keepe
you
at
distance
,
Penelope
,
and
Leonora
,
Shee
's
as
the
boy
reported
something
more
Pleasant
then
ordinarie
.
Mi.
T
is
hee
good
cozen
,
Pretend
some
busines
,
offer
at
some
wares
,
Or
aske
the
Gold-smith
what
your
Diamond
's
worth
,
Something
to
trifle
time
away
,
while
I
Speake
with
my
husband
a
few
words
.
Wi.
Shee
comes
toward
me
.
Mi.
I
can
containe
no
longer
,
How
d'
ee
sweete-hart
?
Wi.
Well
,
but
a
little
melancholy
.
You
looke
more
sprightfully
wife
,
something
has
pleas'd
you
.
Mi.
It
has
indeede
,
and
if
it
be
no
staine
To
modestie
,
I
would
enquire
how
you
Sped
the
last
night
.
Wi.
I
lost
my
money
.
Mi.
I
doe
not
meane
that
game
.
Wi.
I
am
not
betrai'd
I
hope
;
do
not
meane
that
game
?
Mi.
Y'
are
a
fine
gentleman
.
Wi.
T
is
so
,
could
she
not
keepe
her
owne
counsell
?
Mi.
And
have
behav'd
your selfe
most
wittilie
,
And
I
may
say
most
wrongfully
:
this
will
Bee
much
for
your
honor
,
when
't
is
knowne
.
Wi.
What
will
be
knowne
?
Mi.
Do
you
not
blush
?
oh
fie
.
Is
there
no
modestie
in
man
?
Wi.
What
riddle
Have
you
got
now
?
I
wonot
yet
seeme
conscious
.
Mi.
T
is
time
then
to
be
plaine
,
it
was
a
wonder
I
could
be
so
long
silent
,
did
you
like
Your
last
nights
lodging
?
Wil.
Very
,
very
well
;
I
went
not
to
bed
all
night
.
Mi.
You
did
not
lie
with
Mistresse
Penelope
my
kinswoman
?
Wi.
Refuse
me
if
I
did
.
Mi.
You
neede
not
sweare
;
But
't
was
no
fault
of
yours
,
no
fault
no
vertue
:
But
't
is
no
place
to
expostulate
these
actions
.
In
breife
know
't
was
my
plott
,
for
I
observ'd
Which
way
your
warme
affection
mov'd
,
&
wrought
So
with
my
honest
cozen
to
supplie
Her
wanton
place
,
that
with
some
shame
at
last
,
I
might
deceive
your
hard
heart
into
kindnes
.
Wi.
That
,
that
agen
sweete
wife
,
and
be
a
little
Serious
;
was
it
your
plott
to
excuse
your
cozen
,
And
be
the
bed-fellow
?
Mi.
Heaven
knowes
't
is
truth
.
Wi.
I
am
fitted
,
fitted
with
a
paire
of
hornes
Of
my
owne
making
.
Mi.
Thanke
,
and
thinke
upon
That
providence
that
would
not
have
you
lost
In
such
a
Forrest
of
loose
thoughts
,
and
bee
Your selfe
agen
;
I
am
your
hand-maid
still
,
And
have
learned
so
much
pietie
to
conceale
What ever
should
dishonor
you
.
Wi.
It
budds
,
It
budds
alreadie
.
I
shall
turne
starke
mad
,
Horne
mad
.
Mi.
What
aile
you
?
are
you
vext
because
Your
wantonnesse
thriv'd
so
well
?
Wi.
Well
with
a
vengance
.
Mi.
I
did
expect
your
thanks
.
Wi.
Yes
,
I
do
thanke
you
,
thanke
you
heartilie
,
Most
infinitly
thanke
you
.
Mi.
Doth
this
merit
No
other
payment
but
your
scorne
,
then
know
Bad
man
,
't
is
in
my
power
to
be
reveng'd
,
And
what
I
had
a
resolution
Should
sleepe
in
silent
darknes
,
now
shall
looke
Day
in
the
face
,
I
'le
publish
to
the
World
How
I
am
wrong'd
,
and
with
what
stubbornesse
You
have
despis'd
the
cure
of
your
owne
fame
;
Nor
shall
my
Cozen
suffer
in
her
honor
.
I
stoope
as
low
as
earth
to
shew
my
dutie
,
But
too
much
trampl'd
on
I
rise
to
tell
The
World
I
am
a
woman
.
VVi.
No
,
no
;
harke
you
,
I
doe
not
mocke
you
,
I
am
taken
with
The
conceit
,
what
a
fine
thing
I
have
made
my selfe
.
Nere
speake
on
't
,
thy
device
shall
take
;
I
'le
love
thee
.
And
kisse
thee
for
't
,
tha
'st
paid
me
handsomelie
:
An
admirable
plot
,
and
follow'd
cunninglie
,
I
'le
see
thee
anon
agen
,
and
lie
with
thee
To night
,
without
a
stratagemme
.
The
gentlewomen
Expect
thee
;
keepe
all
close
,
deare
wife
,
no
sentences
.
I
am
trick'd
and
trim'd
at
my
owne
charges
rarely
,
I
'le
seeke
out
some body
agen
.
Exit
.
Mi.
I
have
presum'd
too
much
upon
your
patience
,
I
have
discover'd
,
and
I
hope
t'
will
take
.
Pene.
I
wish
it
may
.
Mi.
You
are
sad
still
,
Leonora
.
Remove
these
thoughts
:
come
I
'le
waite
on
you
now
To
the
Exchange
:
some
toyes
may
there
strike
off
Their
sad
remembrance
.
Leo.
I
attend
you
.
Mi.
Farewell
.
Enter
Beaumont
,
and
his
keeper
.
Ke.
The
gentleman
that
was
yesterday
to
speake
with
you
Is
come
againe
to
visite
you
.
Beo.
S.
Richard
Hurry
?
Ke.
The
same
,
sir
.
Bar.
You
may
admit
him
.
Ke.
Men
of
his
quality
Do
seldome
court
affliction
,
this
,
I
must
Allow
,
is
a
most
noble
gratitude
For
those
good
offices
my
father
did
him
.
Enter
S.
Richard
.
Hu.
Sir
,
the
respects
I
owe
you
make
me
againe
Solliciter
for
your
saftie
,
and
although
On
the
first
proposition
it
appeare
Strange
to
you
,
and
perhapps
incredible
,
Which
might
dispose
you
to
the
slow
embrace
Of
what
I
tendred
,
yet
againe
brought
to
you
After
a
time
to
examine
and
consider
What
most
concernes
you
,
I
am
confident
,
You
will
accept
,
and
thanke
me
.
Beo.
Noble
sir
.
You
doe
expresse
so
are
is
bountie
,
men
Will
sloely
imitate
;
I
am
not
soe
Lost
in
my
wilde
misfortune
,
but
my
reason
Will
guide
me
to
acknowledge
and
paie
backe
My
service
and
my selfe
,
for
so
much
charity
As
you
have
pleas'd
to
shew
me
.
Enter
Violante
.
Vio.
Here
's
for
thy
paines
:
they
are
the
same
;
make
good
Thy
word
,
and
place
me
where
I
may
unseene
Heare
their
discourse
.
Ke.
This
way
.
Beo.
But
with
your
pardon
,
I
would
desire
to
heare
agen
how
much
I
shall
be
oblig'd
that
knowing
the
extent
Of
your
desert
I
maie
pay
backe
a
duty
,
That
may
in
every
circumstance
become
My
fortune
and
the
benefit
.
Hu.
Then
thus
:
you
are
a
Prisoner
;
that
alone
Is
misery
,
But
yours
the
greater
,
in
that
guilt
of
blood
,
Not
summes
that
may
bee
recompenc'd
,
detaine
you
.
I
'le
not
dispute
the
circumstance
,
Delamore
Slaine
by
your
hand
.
Beo.
I
have
confest
,
The
first
jurie
having
found
it
murder
.
Hu.
His
blood
calls
to
the
law
for
justice
,
and
you
cannot
Left
to
your selfe
,
and
looking
on
the
fact
,
Expect
with
any
comfort
what
must
follow
.
Yet
I
in
pity
of
your
suffrings
,
In
pity
of
your
youth
which
would
bee
else
Untimely
blasted
,
offer
to
remove
Your
sorrowes
,
make
you
free
and
right
againe
,
With
cleere
satisfaction
to
the
Law
.
Beo.
Good
sir
,
Pray
give
me
leave
to
doubt
here
.
I
see
not
How ere
your
will
and
charitie
may
bee
active
In
my
desiresse
to
save
me
,
that
you
can
Assure
my
life
and
freedome
,
since
in
causes
Of
such
high
nature
,
lawes
must
have
their
course
,
Whose
streame
as
it
were
wickednesse
to
pollute
,
It
were
vanitie
for
any
private
man
To
thinke
he
could
resist
.
I
speake
not
this
To
have
you
imagine
I
despise
my
life
,
But
to
expresse
my
feares
your
will
does
flatter
you
Bove
what
your
power
can
reach
.
Pa.
For
that
I
urge
not
My
beeing
a
Commissioner
alone
To
doe
you
service
,
I
have
friends
in
Court
,
And
great
ones
,
when
the
rigor
of
the
Law
Hath
sentenc'd
you
to
mediate
your
pardon
:
Nor
takes
it
from
the
justice
of
a
Prince
,
Where
provocation
and
not
malice
makes
Guilty
,
to
save
,
whom
the
sharpe
letter
doomes
Sometimes
to
execution
:
I
am
to
farre
From
doubting
your
discharge
,
that
I
dare
forfeit
My
life
if
I
secure
not
yours
from
any
Danger
for
this
offence
.
Beo.
You
speake
all
comfort
Which
way
can
I
deserve
this
?
Ha.
That
I
'le
shew
you
.
I
had
an
obligation
to
your
father
Whose
love
when
all
my
fortunes
were
i'
th
ebbe
,
And
desperatelie
,
releev'd
mee
with
large
summes
;
By
whose
carefull
manage
I
arryu'd
at
what
I
am
,
and
I
should
be
a
rebell
to
Nature
and
goodnesse
not
to
love
the
sonne
Of
such
a
friend
by
his
misfortune
made
Ripe
for
my
gratitude
.
Beo
You
speake
your
bountie
,
But
teach
not
all
this
while
how
to
deserve
it
.
Hu.
T
is
done
by
your
acceptance
of
my
daughter
To
bee
your
Bride
.
Be.
To
be
my
Bride
?
pray
tell
tell
me
Is
she
deform'd
or
wanton
,
what
vice
has
shee
?
Ha.
Vice
,
sir
,
she
will
deserve
as
good
a
husband
,
Shee
is
handsome
though
I
say
't
,
and
shall
be
rich
too
.
Beo.
Shee
is
too
good
,
if
she
be
faire
or
vertuous
.
Pardon
,
I
know
she
is
both
:
but
you
amaze
me
,
I
did
expect
conditions
of
danger
:
A
good
wife
is
a
blessing
above
health
;
You
teach
mee
to
deserve
my
life
first
from
you
By
offering
a
happinesse
beyond
it
.
Hu.
If
you
finde
love
to
accept
,
't
is
the
reward
I
looke
for
,
Leonora
shall
obey
Or
quit
a
father
.
Be.
Ha
goodnesse
defend
.
I
know
you
doe
but
mocke
me
,
and
upbraid
My
act
,
that
kild
her
servant
:
wound
mee
still
,
I
have
deserv'd
her
curse
:
I
see
her
weepe
,
And
every
teare
accuse
me
.
Hu.
May
I
never
Thrive
in
my
Prayers
to
Heaven
,
if
what
I
offer
I
wish
not
heartilie
confirm'd
.
Bu.
I
now
Suspect
you
are
not
Leonora
father
,
'T
were
better
you
dissembled
,
then
made
her
So
past
all
hope
of
beeing
cur'd
agen
:
I
marry
Leonora
!
can
her
soule
Thinke
on
so
foule
a
rape
,
she
cannot
sure
.
Ha.
Shee
shall
;
I
command
.
Be.
By
vertue
,
but
Shee
shanot
,
nor
would
I
to
graspe
an
Empire
Tempt
her
to
so
much
staine
,
let
her
tell
downe
Her
Virgin
teares
,
on
Delamores
cold
Marble
,
Sigh
to
his
dust
,
and
call
revenge
upon
His
head
whose
anger
sent
him
to
those
shades
,
From
whence
she
nere
must
see
him
;
this
will
justifie
Shee
lov'd
the
dead
:
it
were
impietie
One
smile
should
blesse
her
murderer
,
and
how ere
You
are
pleas'd
to
complement
with
my
affliction
,
I
know
she
cannot
finde
one
thought
without
her
So
foule
to
looke
upon
me
.
Hu.
Let
it
rest
on
that
,
will
you
confern
and
timely
make
provision
for
your
saftie
?
Beo.
For
my
life
You
meane
,
now
on
the
chance
,
then
I
may
live
You
are
confident
,
and
thinke
it
not
impossible
Your
daughter
may
affect
me
;
ther
's
at
once
Two
blessings
,
are
they
not
and
mightie
ones
,
Considering
what
I
am
,
how
low
,
how
lost
T'oth
common
aire
?
Hu.
Now
you
are
wise
.
Beo.
But
if
Your
daughter
would
confirme
this
,
and
propound
Her selfe
my
victorie
.
Hu.
What
then
?
Beo.
I
should
condemne
her
,
and
despise
the
conquest
:
These
things
may
bribe
an
Atheist
not
a
Lover
.
But
you
perhaps
are
ignorant
,
I
have
given
My
faith
away
irrevocablie
,
't
is
The
wealth
of
Violante
,
and
I
wonot
Basely
steale
backe
a
thought
,
and
yet
I
thanke
you
,
I
am
not
so
inhumane
.
Hu.
Will
you
not
Preferre
your
life
To
honor
and
religion
?
Beo.
For
shame
be
silent
could
you
make
me
Lord
Of
my
owne
destiny
,
and
that
Leonora
Had
empires
for
her
dower
,
and
courted
mee
With
all
the
flatteries
of
life
,
to
quit
My
vowes
to
Violante
,
I
would
die
Upon
her
bosome
to
meete
death
.
Hu.
And
death
You
must
expect
which
will
take
off
this
braverie
.
Beo.
And
I
will
kisse
it
,
kisse
it
,
like
a
Bride
.
Hu.
So
resolute
?
Beo.
And
if
I
cannot
live
My
Violantes
,
I
will
die
her
sacrifice
.
Good
sir
,
no
more
,
you
do
not
well
to
trouble
The
quiet
of
a
Prisoner
thus
that
cannot
Be
a
too
carefull
Steward
of
those
minuts
Left
him
to
make
his
peace
,
tempt
me
no
further
:
The
Earth
is
not
so
fixt
as
my
resolues
,
Rather
to
die
then
in
one
thought
transplant
My
love
from
Violante
.
Hu.
Bee
undone
,
And
this
contempt
shall
hasten
the
divorce
Of
soule
and
love
,
die
and
be
soone
forgotten
.
Exit
.
Enter
Violante
.
Beo.
My
Violante
,
if
there
can
be
any
joy
Neighbour
too
so
much
greife
,
I
'le
powre
it
out
To
pay
thy
bounteous
visit
,
if
my
eyes
Admit
no
fellowship
in
weeping
,
't
is
Because
my
heart
which
saw
thee
first
,
would
bid
Thee
welcome
thither
,
scorning
;
to
acknowledge
There
can
be
any
thing
but
joy
where
thou
art
.
Vio.
But
sadnes
my
deere
Beaumont
,
while
there
is
A
cause
that
maks
thee
Prisoner
,
I
must
weepe
And
empty
many
springs
,
my
eyes
are
now
No
prophets
of
thy
sorrow
but
the
witnes
,
And
when
I
thinke
of
death
that
waits
upon
thee
I
wither
to
a
Ghost
.
Beo.
Why
Violante
,
We
must
all
die
,
restraine
these
weeping
Fountaines
,
Keepe
'em
till
I
am
dead
,
dispence
'em
then
Upon
my
grave
,
and
I
shall
grow
agen
,
And
in
the
sweete
disguise
of
a
faire
Garden
Salute
the
spring
that
gave
mee
greene
and
odour
.
Why
should
not
love
transforme
us
?
Vio.
Bee
not
lost
In
these
imaginations
.
Beo.
Or
perhapps
Th'
ast
ambition
,
she
whose
love
made
up
A
wonder
to
the
World
beside
the
pledge
Of
duty
to
her
Lord
,
fam'd
Arthemisia
Shall
bee
no
more
in
storie
for
her
Tombe
:
For
on
the
Earth
that
weighes
my
body
downe
When
I
am
dead
,
thy
teares
by
the
cold
breath
Of
Heaven
congeal'd
to
Beaumonts
memorie
,
Shall
raise
a
monument
of
Pearle
to
our
doe
The
great
Mausolus
Sepulcher
.
Vio.
No
more
Of
this
vaine
language
,
if
you
have
any
pittie
On
the
poore
Violante
.
Ber.
I
ha
done
,
And
yet
I
am
going
now
to
a
long
silence
;
Allow
my
sorrow
to
take
leave
Violante
Vio.
It
shall
be
so
,
be
valiant
my
heart
Beaumont
I
come
not
to
take
leave
of
thee
.
Be.
Perhapps
you
'le
see
me
agen
.
Vio.
Agen
and
often
,
Thy
starres
are
gentle
to
thee
,
many
daies
,
And
yeeres
are
yet
betweene
thee
and
that
time
That
threatens
losse
of
breath
;
see
,
I
can
thus
Disperse
the
Clouds
sate
heavie
on
my
brow
,
Wipe
the
moisture
hence
,
t
is
day
agen
;
Take
beames
into
thy
eye
,
and
let
them
sinke
Upon
thy
better
fortune
,
live
,
live
happilie
.
Be.
Is
Delamore
alive
?
Vio.
Dead
and
interr'd
.
Be.
From
what
can
this
hope
rise
?
Vio.
From
thy selfe
Beaumont
;
If
thou
wilt
save
thy selfe
,
I
have
heard
all
,
And
by
the
duty
of
my
love
am
bound
To
hide
your
resolution
,
can
you
be
So
merciles
to
your selfe
to
refuse
life
When
it
is
offer'd
with
the
best
advantage
Is
Leonoras
love
?
a
price
that
should
Buy
you
from
all
the
World
?
be
counsell'd
sir
,
Oh
,
do
not
loose
your selfe
in
a
vaine
passion
For
thought
of
me
,
I
cancell
all
your
vowes
,
And
give
you
backe
your
heart
,
bee
free
againe
If
you
will
promise
me
to
live
and
love
.
Be.
Leonora
.
Vio.
That
best
of
woman-kinde
,
a
mine
of
sweetnes
.
Be.
But
can
you
leave
mee
then
?
Vio.
I
justifie
Thy
choice
of
me
in
that
,
that
to
preserve
thee
Dare
give
thee
backe
agen
,
be
Leonoras
,
For
being
mine
th'
art
lost
to
all
the
World
Better
a
thousand
times
,
thou
be
made
hers
Then
we
both
loose
,
I
'le
pawne
my
faith
shee
le
love
thee
I
'le
be
content
to
heare
my
Beaumonts
well
,
And
visite
thee
sometimes
like
a
glad
sister
,
And
never
beg
a
kisse
,
but
if
I
weepe
At
any
time
when
we
are
together
,
Do
not
beleeve
't
is
sorrow
makes
my
eyes
So
wet
,
but
joy
to
see
my
Beaumont
living
:
As
it
is
now
to
hope
.
Be.
If
thou
dost
meane
thus
Thou
dost
the
more
to
inflame
me
to
be
constant
,
Be
not
a
miracle
and
I
may
be
tempted
To
love
my
life
above
thee
,
by
this
kisse
,
Oh
,
give
me
but
another
in
my
death
It
will
restore
me
by
this
innocent
hand
,
While
as
I
wish
my
soule
I
wonot
leave
thee
For
the
Worlds
Kingdome
.
Vio.
But
you
must
,
unlesse
You
change
for
Leonora
,
thinke
of
that
,
Thinke
ere
you
be
to
rash
.
Be.
I
'le
thinke
of
thee
,
And
honor
to
be
read
,
I
love
Violante
But
never
could
deserve
her
,
live
thou
happie
,
And
by
thy
vertue
teach
a
neerer
way
To
heaven
,
we
may
meete
yonder
,
do
not
make
me
More
miserable
then
I
am
,
by
adding
perjurie
To
my
bloody
sinne
,
the
memory
of
thee
Will
at
my
execution
advance
My
spirit
to
a
�
that
men
shall
thinke
I
have
chang'd
my
cause
for
martyrdome
.
Vio.
Then
here
As
of
a
dying
man
I
take
my
leave
,
Farewell
unhappie
Beaumont
,
I
'le
pray
for
thee
.
Beo.
T
is
possible
I
may
live
yet
and
be
thine
.
Vio.
These
teares
embalme
thee
If
in
this
World
we
never
meete
My
life
is
buried
in
thy
winding
sheete
.
Beo.
This
exceeds
all
my
sorrow
.