295 Ser. Faith Mistress, if it may not be presumption

296In me to tell you so, for his excuse

297You had small reason, knowing his abuse.

298 Wife. I grant I had, but alas,

299Why should our faults at home be spread abroad?

300'Tis grief enough within doors; at first sight

301Mine Uncle could run o're his prodigal life

302As perfectly, as if his serious eye

303Had numbred all his follies:

304Knew of his morgag'd lands, his friends in bonds,

305Himself withered with debt; and in that minute

306Had I added his usage and unkindness,

307'Twould have confounded every thought of good:

308Where now, fathering his riots on his youth,

309Which time and tame experience will shake off,

310Guessing his kindness to me (as I smooth'd him

311With all the skill I had) though his deserts

312Are in form uglier then an unshapt Bear.

313He's ready to prefer him to some Office

314And place at Court: a good and sure releif

315To all his stooping fortunes, 'twill be a means, I hope,

316To make new league between us, and redeem

317His virtues with his lands.

318 Ser. I should think so: Mistress, if he should not now

319be kind to you, and love you, and cherish you up, I should

320think the Devil himself kept open house in him.

321 Wife. I doubt not but he will now, prythee leave me,

322I think I hear him coming.

324 Wife. By this good means I shall preserve my lands,

325And free my husband out of Usurers hands:

326Now there is no need of sale, my Uncle's kind,

327I hope, if ought, this will content his mind.

329 Hus. Now, are you come? where's the money? let's

330see the money, is the rubbish sold? those wiseakers your

331Lands, why then, the money, where is it? poure it

332down, down with it, down with it; I say pour't on the

333groound, let's see it, let's see it.

334 Wife. Good sir, keep but in patience, and I hope

335My words shall like you well, I bring you better

336Comfort then the sale of my Dowry.

337 Hus. Ha, what's that?

338 Wife. Pray do not fright me, sir, but vouchsafe me hear-

339ing. My Uncle, glad of your kindness to me and mild use-

340age (for so I made it to him) hath in pitty of your decli-

341ning fortunes, provided a place for you at Court, of worth

342and credit; which so much overjoyed me----

343 Hus. Out on thee, filth, over and over-joyed,

345Thou politick whore, subtiller then nine Devils, was

346this thy journey to Nunck, to set down the history of

347me, my state and fortunes:

348Shall I, that dedicated my self to pleasure, be now con-

349fin'd in service to crouch, and stand like an old man ith'

350hams, my Hat off? I that could never abide to uncover

351my head ith' Church: base slut, this fruit beares thy com-

352plaints.

353 Wife. Oh, heaven knowes,

354That my complaints were praises, and best words

355Of you, and your estate; onely my friends

356Knew of your morgag'd Lands, and were possest

357Of every accident before I came.

358If you suspect it but a plot in me,

359To keep my dowry, or for mine own good,

360Or my poor Childrens (though it suits a mother

361To shew a naturall care in their reliefs)

362Yet I'le forget my self to calme your blood,

363Consume it, as your pleasure counsels you,

364And all I wish, e'ne Clemency affords,

365Give me but pleasant looks, and modest words.

368What the Devil? how now thy hasty newes?

369 Ser. May it please you, sir.

370 Hus.What, may I not look upon my Dagger?

371Speak, Villain, or I will execute the point on thee:

372quick, short.

373 Ser. Why sir, a Gentleman from the University stayes

374below to speak with you.

375 Hus. From the University? so, University,

377 Wife. Was ever Wife so wretchedly beset?

378Had not this newes stept in between, the point

379Had offered violence unto my breast.

380That which some women call great misery,

381Would shew but little here, would scarce be seen

382Among my miseries: I may compare

383For wretched fortunes, with all Wives that are,

384Nothing will please him, untill all be nothing.

385He calls it slavery to be preferr'd,

386A place of credit, a base servitude.

387What shall become of me, and my poor Children?

388Two here, and one at Nurse, my pretty beggars,

389I see how ruine with a palsie hand

390Begins to shake the ancient seat to dust:

391The heavy weight of sorrow drawes my lids

392Over my dankish eyes: I can scarce see;

393Thus grief will last, it wakes and sleeps with me.