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  • Title: A Yorkshire Tragedy (Third Folio, 1664)

  • Copyright Digital Renaissance Editions. This text may be freely used for educational, non-profit purposes; for all other uses contact the Editor.
    Authors: Thomas Middleton, William Shakespeare
    Not Peer Reviewed

    A Yorkshire Tragedy (Third Folio, 1664)

    Enter a maid with a child in her armes, the
    Mother by her asleep.
    Maid. Sleep sweet babe, sorrow makes thy mother sleep,
    520It boads small good when heavinesse falls so deep,
    Hush, pretty boy, thy hopes might have bin better,
    'Tis lost at Dice, what ancient honour won,
    Hard when the father plaies away the Son:
    Nothing but misery serves in this house,
    525Ruine and desolation; oh.
    Enter Husband with the Boy bleeding.
    Hus. Whore, give me that Boy.
    He strives with her for the child.
    Maid. Oh help, help, out alas, murder, murder.
    530 Hus. Are you gossiping, prating sturdy quean,
    I'le break your clamour with your neck,
    Down stayers; tumble, tumble, headlong,
    He throws her down.
    So, the surest way to charme a womans tongue,
    535Is break her neck, a Polititain did it.
    Son.Mother, mother, I am kill'd mother.
    His wife awakes, and catcheth up the youngest.
    Wife. Ha, who's that cry'd? O me my children,
    Both, both; bloudy, bloudy.
    540 Hus. Strumpet, let go the boy, let go the beggar.
    Wife. Oh my sweet husband.
    Hus. Filth, Harlot.
    Wife. Oh, what will you do, dear husband?
    Hus. Give me the bastard.
    545 Wife. Your own sweet boy.
    Hus. There are too many beggars.
    Wife. Good my husband.
    Hus. Do'st thou prevent me still?
    Wife. Oh God!
    550Stabs at the child in her armes, and gets it from her.
    Hus.Have at his heart.
    Wife. Oh my dear boy.
    Hus. B
    rat, thou shalt not live to shame thy house.
    Wife. Oh heaven.She is hurt and sinks down.
    555 Hus. And perish, now be gone,
    There's whores enow, and want would make thee one.
    Enter a lusty Servant.
    Ser. Oh sir, what deeds are these?
    Hus. Base slave, my vassail,
    560Com'st thou between my fury to question me?
    Ser. Were you the devil, I would hold you, sir.
    Hus. Hold me? presumption, I'le undo thee for it.
    Ser. 'Sbloud, you have undone us all, sir.
    Hus.Tug at thy Master?
    565 Ser. Tug at a monster.
    Hus. Have I no power? shall my slave fetter me?
    Ser. Nay then the devil wrastles, I am thrown.
    Husband overcomes him.
    Hus. Oh villain, now I'le tug thee, now I'le tear thee,
    570set quick spurs to my vassail, bruise him, trample him;
    so, I think thou wilt not follow me in haste.
    My horse stands ready sadled, away, away,
    Now to my brat at nurse, my sucking beggar;
    Fates, I'le not leave you one to trample on.