90H, that ever I was born, that ever I was born!

10Sir Godfrey. Nay good sister, dear sister,

11sweet sister, be of good comfort, shew your

12self a woman, now or never.

13Wid. Oh, I have lost the dearest man, I have buried

14the sweetest husband that ever lay by woman.

15Sir God. Nay give him his due, he was indeed an ho-

16nest, virtuous, discreet wise man,---he was my Brother,

17as right, as right.

18Wid. O, I shall never forget him, never forget him,

19he was a man so well given to a woman---oh!

20Sir God. Nay, but kind sister, I could weep as much

21as any woman, but alass, our teares cannot call him again:

22me thinks you are well read, sister, and know that death

23is as common as Homo, a common name to all men;---a

24man shall be taken when he's making water,---nay,

25did not the learned Parson Master Pigman tell us e'ne

26now, that all Flesh is frail, we are born to die, Man has

27but a time: with such like deep and profound perswasi-

28ons, as he is a rare fellow you know, and an excellent

29Reader: and for example, (as there are examples abun-

30dance) did not Sir Humphrey Bubble die tother day,

31there's a lusty Widow, why she cri'd not above half an

32hour---for shame, for shame: then followed him old Ma-

33ster Fulsome the Usurer, there's a wise Widow, why she

34cry'd ne're a whit at all.

35Wid. O ranck not me with those wicked women, I

36had a husband out-shin'd 'em all.

37Sir God. I that he did, ifaith, he out-shin'd 'em all.

38Wid. Dost thou stand there and see us all weep, and

39not once shed a tear for thy fathers death? oh thou un-

40gracious son and heir thou?

41Edm. Troth, Mother, I should not weep I'me sure;

42I am past a Child I hope, to make all my old School-fel-

43lowes laugh at me; I should be mockt, so I should; pray

44let one of my sisters weep for me, I'le laugh as much for

45her another time?

46Wid. O thou past-Grace thou, out of my sight, thou

47gracelesse Imp, thou grievest me more then the death of

48thy Father: oh thou stubborn onely Son: hadst thou such

49an honest man to thy Father---that would deceive all the

50world to get riches for thee, and canst thou not afford a

51little salt water? he that so wisely did quite overthrow

52the right heir of those Lands, which now you respect not:

53up every morning betwixt four and five, so duely at West-

54minster-Hall every Tearm-time, with all his Cards and

55Writings, for thee, thou wicked Absalon---oh dear hus-

56band!

57Edm. Weep, quotha? I protest I am glad he's Chur-

58ched? for now he's gone I shall spend in quiet.

59Fran.Dear Mother, pray cease, half your teares suffice,

60'Tis time for you to take truce with your eyes,

61Let me weep now?

62Wid. O such a dear Knight, such a sweet Husband have

63I lost, have I lost?----if blessed be the Coarse the rain

64rains upon, he had it, pouring down?

65Sir. God. Sister, be of good cheer, we are all mortall

66our selves, I come upon you freshly, I ne're speak without

67comfort, hear me what I shall say;---my brother has left

68you wealthy, y'are rich.

69Wid. Oh!

70Sir God. I say y'are rich: you are also fair.

71Wid. Oh!

72Sir God. Go to, y'are fair, you cannot smother it,

73beauty will come to light; nor are your yeares so far en-

74ter'd with you, but that you will be sought after, and

75may very well answer another husband; the world is

76full of fine Gallants, choyce enow, sister,---for what

77should we doe with all our Knights I pray? but to marry

78rich Widowes, wealthy Citizens Widowes; lusty fair-

79brow'd Ladies; go to, be of good comfort I say, leave

80snobbing and weeping---yet my Brother was a kind-

81hearted man---I would not have the Elf see me now?

82---come, pluck up a womans heart---here stands your

83Daughters, who be well estated, and at maturity will also

84be enquir'd after with good husbands, so all these teares

85shall be soon dried up, and a better world then ever----

86what, Woman? you must not weep still? he's dead, he's

87buried---yet I cannot chuse but weep for him.

88Wid. Marry again! no, let me be buried quick then!

89And that same part of Quire whereon I tread

90To such intent, O may it be my grave:

91And that the Priest may turn his wedding prayers,