ACT FOUR*
4.1
Enter Lord LOVELY, CROSTILL, [and] BELLAMY.

672Lovely   [Indicating BELLAMY]   Lady, ’tis true he is a bashful lover,
        Unskilled to court a widow, has not yet
        The act methodical* to swear he loves you,
        Must and will have you, nor the moving boldness
        To stir your blood by putting of you to’t*,
        Or showing you how ’tis, before the priest
        Declares it lawful*. But he has love and sweetness,
        Which you will find with full and rich content.
        And look, look here, what a long middle finger he has,
        Which with thin jaws and Roman nose
        Are never-failing signs of widows’ joys*.

673CrostillYour lordship is disposed to mirth.

674LovelyIt is
        My care to put you in a course of mirth,
        Nay, of felicity.

675CrostillIn marrying of that stripling!

676LovelyDo not think slightly of him, though he appears
        Modest and bashfully; if I have any judgement,
        He’s a fit match for you. His outward fortune
        For his estate I will make good to him,
        And for his inward virtue, never doubt
        He’ll make that good to you, however still
        He holds his much commended modesty.

677CrostillMy lord, you much commend his modesty
        And bashfulness, urging your confidence
        Of his strange inward-hid abilities.
        I hope your lordship’s pardon: can you tell
        If he has with that bashful modesty
        Got any of his mother’s maids with child*?
        Or of his father’s tenants’ wives or daughters?
        I would have some assurance.

678LovelyThen I’ll tell you.
           [Aside]   These widows love to hear of manly acts,
        And choose their husbands by their backs* and faces.

679CrostillMy lord, you said you’d tell me.

680LovelyYes, but I would not have you cunningly
        To sift discoveries from me to his wrong.

681CrostillI am loth to speak so plainly to you, my lord,
        But by the worst that you can speak of him
        I may the better like him.

682Lovely   [Aside]   That’s her humour.
           [Aloud]   Then hark you, widow, to avoid his blushes,
        Suppose I tell he has got a bastard.

683CrostillYou may as well suppose I’ll say ’twas well.

684LovelyWhat say you to two or three?

685CrostillThe more the merrier.

686LovelyHe has no less than five old gentlemen’s
        Young wives with child this moon, but got all in
        One week.

687CrostillIndeed!

688LovelyYes, in good deed, and lusty.

689CrostillGood deed call you it to get other men’s
        Children?

690LovelySuppose they have the husbands’ consents?

691CrostillI suppose they are wittols then.

692LovelyNo, they are wisealls*, and ’tis a thing
        In much request among landed men, when old
        And wanting issue of their own, to keep
        Out riotous kindred from inheritance,
        Who else would turn the land out of the name*.

693CrostillAn excellent policy!

694LovelyYou know the Lady Thrivewell?

695CrostillAnd her old husband, and his riotous kinsman* too.

696LovelyYou will hear more hereafter. But now to him again for whom I am spokesman.

697CrostillIn a strange way, methinks.

698LovelyHe is sent for far and near on those occasions, he is of so sweet a composure and such sure-taking mettle that he employs my care to have him well bestowed before he begins to waste.

699CrostillIs’t possible he has done so much and says so little?

700LovelyThe deepest waters are most silent.
        But he can speak, and well too. Bellamy.

701BellamyMy lord?

702LovelyI have made your love known to this lady.

703BellamyMy love, my lord?

704LovelyAnd have begun your suit; follow’t yourself.

705BellamyMy suit, my lord, to her? I never moved your lordship to’t, though I presume she may be a happy fortune to one of my condition, a poor and younger brother, only made rich and happy in your lordship’s service and overflowing favours.

706LovelyWhich I’ll take off o’ you if you slight my care in seeking your preferment to this lady, of beauty equal with her fair estate, in both which she is great, and her achievement* will be the crown and the continuance of all my favours to you. You are lost if you pursue it not. I would thy old uncle Bellamy saw thy bashfulness.

707CrostillYour lordship seems now to woo for me, not him. However I am bound in thanks to your nobleness, in your fair proportion; I hope I shall not be so poor to require an advocate when I shall yield to have a husband. But your mirth becomes your honour, and the young gentleman’s reservedness him. Ha, ha, ha!

708LovelyHow mean you, Mistress Crostill?

709CrostillI do commend your mirth, my lord, for the lusty strain you spoke him in, that he had yet five children in one week, wherein I may presume you thought you had moved to my liking. Ha, ha, ha!

710LovelyI am glad I have made you merry, but you will wish, if you reject him —

711CrostillIf I reject one that tenders not himself! Yet I commend his caution.

712LovelyAs how, I pray?

713CrostillAs thinking I am one of your cast pieces*
        Knowing how well your lordship loves the game
        And now would put me on him.
           [To Bellamy]   But you misprize me sinfully, sweet youth,
        In such a thought. Howe’er, you should not scorn
        To ride in your lord’s cast boots*, though you be
        Gentleman of’s house.

714LovelyCome now, he shall have none of you.

715CrostillI’ll hear him say he will not first, by your lordship’s leave.

716LovelySpirit of contradiction!

717Crostill   [To BELLAMY]   Stay, sir, would you be content to have me?

718BellamyYou heard my lord say I should not.

719CrostillBut say he say again you shall? Speak, will you have me?

720Lovely   [Aside to BELLAMY]   Say no —   [Aside]   I find her now —   [Aside to Bellamy]   that is the way to win her.

721CrostillWithout instructions, good my lord.

722BellamyLady, I find so much your scorn already,
        That to be wedded to’t, I should despair
        (My much unworthiness considered) to convert it
        Ever to love; and ’tis your love, before
        Your person or estate, that my affection
        Ought to direct me to.
        In answer, therefore, to your “will you have me”,
        I must say no, till I perceive some sign
        Of love in you towards me.

723Crostill   [Aside]   Ay, now he speaks!
           [Aloud]   Some signs of love in me? How would you have it?
        Must I declare it to you before you seek it?

724Bellamy   [Aside to CROSTILL]   No; I would seek it zealously, but my lord
        Is off on’t now, and I may lose his favour.

725CrostillIs your love limited by his favour then?

726BellamyNot limited, but, as it is as yet
        But in its infancy, a little checked,
        Though it still grows and may extend beyond
        All limitation to so fair an object
        As is yourself. But still my own demerit
        Curbs my ambition more than love emboldens.

727Crostill   [Aside]   He speaks within me now.
Enter SAVEALL [and] CARELESS.

728Saveall   [Aside to CARELESS]   Stay, let us retire: here is the Lord Lovely.

729Careless   [Aside to SAVEALL]   Be he a lord of lords, I’ll not retire a foot.

730LovelyWhat servants, Mistress Crostill, do you keep
        To let intruders in? Oh, Master Saveall!
CARELESS salutes CROSTILL and puts by BELLAMY.

731SaveallThe humblest of your lordship’s servants*.

732Lovely   [Conversing aside with SAVEALL]   What gentleman* is that you bring with you?

733SaveallIt is the nephew of the good knight Sir Oliver Thrivewell, of which Sir Oliver I have procured unto your lordship the sum which you desired by your servant, Master Bellamy.

734LovelyFor that I thank him and you, but I could wish you had not brought that nephew hither now.

735SaveallCertes, my lord, I am sorry.

736LovelyMy reason is I have entered Bellamy a suitor to the widow.

737SaveallHe also comes a suitor.

738LovelyAnd is in deep discourse with her already. I’ll see fair play.

739CarelessBut you shall hear me, widow, and that to the point and purpose.

740LovelyLady, at my request, do this gentleman — who made the first approach — the favour to be heard and answered first.

741CarelessAs his approach was first, my lord, she has heard him first already, and my request is to be heard now, and then let her answer both him, or me, or neither — what care I?

742LovelyYour name is Careless*, I take it?

743CarelessI came to talk with this gentlewoman.

744Crostill   [To LOVELY]   Pray, my lord, forbear him and let him speak.   [To CARELESS]   What do you say, sir?

745CarelessI say I love you, do resolve to marry you, and then to use you as I list.

746Crostill   To BELLAMY*   I say I love you, do resolve to marry you, and then to use you as I list.

747BellamyThis to me, lady? I’ll take you at your word.

748CrostillStay, I do but tell you what he says.

749CarelessTake her at her word again, sir, and I shall take you by the lugs.   [To CROSTILL]   I say again, you shall have none but me.

750Crostill   To BELLAMY   I say again, you shall have none but me.

751CarelessWhat, do you fool me, or him, yourself, or all?

752Crostill   [To BELLAMY]   Pray, sir, how old are you?

753CarelessAre you good at that?   To BELLAMY   Pray, sir, how old are you?

754LovelyYou press beyond your privilege, which is only to speak to the gentlewoman.

755CarelessMy lord, I am a gentleman.

756LovelyYou may tell her so.

757SaveallLet me* beseech your lordship.
[SAVEALL] take[s] him [LOVELY] aside.

758Careless   [To CROSTILL]   How can you use a gentleman that loves you
        Dearer than life, and only bends his study
        By all means to deserve you, one that cannot*,
        Will not, while there are ways to die, live out of
        Your favour, with so much despiteful scorn,
        That when he speaks his soul to you through his lips,
        You make his language yours*, and give’t* a boy?

759CrostillWhat gentleman’s that you speak of?

760CarelessThe man that speaks it: I am he.

761Crostill   [To BELLAMY]*   All this, sir, in effect, and more of my affection, can I speak to you.

762CarelessOons, but you shall not; you mistake the person to whom you are or ought to direct your affection; you mistake strangely.

763CrostillNo more than once a lover, or at least
        A bold pretender, having in civil language
        Expressed in writing his affection
        To a chaste mistress, sealed and directed it
        To a lewd strumpet*, and on the contrary
        Courted his virtuous friend in brothel language.
        Have I hit you, sir?

764CarelessWhat can I say now? ’Slife, if that anger you after the error found and confessed, I’ll write worse to you, and in earnest.

765CrostillMaster Bellamy, some other time I shall be glad to see you.

766Careless   [Aside]   She means that to me now, but I’ll take no notice.   [Aloud]   I’ll find as good a widow in a tavern chimney*.   [Aside]   Oh, she’s a dainty widow!

767Crostill   [Aside]   He looks with scorn at me. I must not lose him, yet dare not stay for fear I tell him so.
           [Aloud to LOVELY]   I humbly crave your pardon, good my lord,
        For my ill manners and abrupt departure.
        The cause is urgent and, I beseech your mercy,
        Question it not.

768LovelyLet your will guide you.

769CrostillMaster Saveall, I thank you for my suitor.

770CarelessNay, but lady —*

771CrostillYes, you shall control me in my own house.Exit.

772CarelessYes, yes, I mean so too, but you shall woo me hard first.

773Lovely’Tis a mad widow. Which of these two now think you has the better on’t?

774SaveallI think he shall in the end have the best, my lord, that can slight her most.

775Lovely’Tis my opinion too, and hear me.   [LOVELY and SAVEALL talk] aside.   

776CarelessSir, I have seen you but twice, and it has been at places where I cannot allow of your resorts: first at my aunt’s, and now here at my widow’s.

777BellamyYour widow, sir! I thought she had been the widow of one deceased.

778CarelessThou art a witty, pretty child. But do you here use your wit out of the smell-reach of your lord’s perfumed gloves*, and I shall take you by the nose.

779BellamyForbear, sir, I have a handkerchief*.

780CarelessAnd let me find you there no more nor here*, I charge you.

781BellamyI hear your charge, sir, but you must leave it to my discretion to obey it or not.

782CarelessTrust to your discretion!

783Lovely   [Aloud]   And so commend me to my Lady Thrivewell. Come, Bellamy, away. What’s your discourse?

784BellamyAll fair and friendly, my lord.

785CarelessVery good.

786LovelySo should it be with rivals. Fare you well, Master Careless.[LOVELY and BELLAMY exit.]

787CarelessYour lordship’s — with a whew.

788SaveallWill you walk homewards?

789CarelessExcuse me, sir, I pray.

790SaveallIt will not be convenient to return this day unto the widow*.

791CarelessFear it not, sir; I like her not so well now.

792SaveallDo your pleasure.Exit.

793CarelessHa’ you cross tricks*, Mistress Crostill? Well, I will go drink your crotchets out of my pate, then home, and do that which mine aunt and I must only know. This is her night of grace, if she keep touch with me. Exit.*
4.2
Enter LADY [Thrivewell], PHOEBE, [and] CLOSET.

794LadyIn truth your story is pitiful, but your own folly has brought your scourge upon you.

795Phoebe’Twas through the blindness of my love and my credulity, madam, wrought by his strong temptations.

796LadyWell, for this once I’ll strain a point of honour for you, chiefly indeed in answer of his rude unnatural* presumption in attempting me*. That a villain can still be so barbarously lustfull! If in this way I fit him not, and cause him to desist his beastly purpose, I will discover all to his undoing. Closet, you know my mind and full directions for the conveyance of our design.

797ClosetYes, madam, doubt not. Though I have but a naughty head* at most other matters, I dare* trust it for a sure one at such conveyances.

798LadyI presume, to further the matter, he’ll come home drunk, by his not coming to supper.

799ClosetThen he may forget what he so much expected, or sleep away his expectation.

800PhoebeNo, he will then be the more vehement till his desire be over.

801LadyYou know his humour best it seems. Away, away, my husband comes.CLOSET [and] PHOEBE exit.*
Enter THRIVEWELL and WAT.

802ThrivewellWell, Wat, for this discovery I’ll make thy reward worth ten such masters’ services.[WAT exits.]

   [To LADY Thrivewell]   Sweetheart, I have a suit to you — But first, what woman’s that with Nurse?

803LadyA kinswoman of hers whom she would prefer to me, but I have answered her I will not charge your purse with more attendants, only I have given her leave to entertain and lodge her this night.

804ThrivewellThat’s my good girl.

805LadyNow what’s your suit, sir — as you are pleased to call it — which I would have to be your free command?

806Thrivewell’Tis for my absence from thee to accompany Master Saveall to bring a dear friend on his way to Gravesend tonight, who is suddenly to depart the land.

807LadyThese sudden departures of friends out of the land are so frequent; and that I may believe you intend really, and no feigned excuse; nor* will I think, as long as you have good and substantial made-work at home, that you will seek abroad for any more slight sale-ware .

808ThrivewellNo more o’ that, sweetheart. Farewell. Expect me early in the morning.Exit.

809LadyI am glad of his absence tonight, lest there should happen some combustion in the house by his unruly nephew, in case he* should discover my deceit in beguiling him with his own wench instead of me. I do even tremble to think upon the unnatural villain that would offer so to wrong his uncle. I thought I had schooled him sufficiently and beaten him off at his first attempt, and he to assail me again with more forcible temptations urging me to a promise.
Enter CLOSET.

810ClosetThe young gentleman is come in, madam, and, as you foresaw, very high-flown, but not so drunk as to forget your promise! He’s going to bed in expectation of your approach.

811LadyAnd have you put his damsel* into her night-attire?

812ClosetMost lady-like, I assure you, madam.

813LadyAnd let her be sure to steal from him before day.

814ClosetYes, with all silence, madam, she has promised.Exit.

815LadyMay ladies that shall hear this story told,
        Judge mildly of my act since he’s so bold.[Exit.]
4.3
[Enter] SALEWARE [and] BELLAMY.

816SalewareNay, but look you, Master Bellamy, it is not I protest that I am jealous. I make this inquiry for my wife. I, jealous? I an asinego then! I am as confident of my wife as that she is in this house, howe’er you deny her to me.

817BellamyByr’lady*, you are not jealous now? If you were not, you would believe me she is not here.

818SalewareWithout equivocation, Master Bellamy, she is not here, indeed, under your foot, but she’s here in the house, and under somebody for aught anybody knows but myself that do confide in her, as I say and will know no such matter. And so my lord’s will be done* with her, I hope I shall see her well tomorrow and at her own house.

819BellamyCan such language proceed out of any but a jealous mouth?

820SalewareWhat an asinego’s this! I say again, I do confide in her, nor will I be dashed or bashed at what any man says of or against her. And therefore methinks ’tis very strange that you should deny her to me, that comes not to molest her.

821BellamyThere you are again. But since no denial will serve your turn, indeed she is here in this house, and in bed by this time.

822SalewareAway, away, you mock, i’faith, you are a wag. She’s no more here than I am. If she were here, can I think you would tell?

823BellamyHow came you to think or dream she was in this house at all?

824SalewareI neither thought it or dreamt it, I. But sir, a waterman brought me a letter in haste from one Master Anonymous, intimating that my Ally* was with a private friend at this house, and to lie here all night — a very likely matter! What private friend has she but my lord, and that in a right honourable way? I confide in ’em both for that. But at this house is such a thing — my lord having divers lodgings and she a house of her own at his dispose and command — that is such a thing to be thought or dreamt on!

825BellamyWhy came you to enquire then of such a thing?

826SalewareWhy sir, this ‘Anonymous’ writ that I should come hastily hither and ask to speak with you, Master Bellamy, an* I should know further. Hither I came, here I find you, you deny she is here, and what do I enquire any further?

827BellamyYou hear me say again she is here.

828SalewareGo, you are a wag again! She here? Is my lord here? Or any private friend? Alas, alas, you are too young Master Bellamy, and may as well persuade me I am jealous.

829BellamyWell, sir, to put you out of all jealousy and doubt (if you be in any), I was the Anonymous that sent you the letter to draw you hither and declare myself your friend, which shall instantly be manifest to you if now you have a mind to lie with your own wife before any other man.

830SalewareThen she is here indeed, belike?

831BellamyPray, come with me into the next chamber.

832SalewareThis is some waggery plotted by my wife; I smell it.[BELLAMY and SALEWARE] exit.
The bed put forth, ALICIA in it*. Enter BELLAMY [and] SALEWARE with light*.

833BellamyBut you must be sure to say, when she discovers you, that you came of your own accord, unsent for, as inspired or possessed by some dream or vision, to find her here.

834SalewareWell, if this be not my wife’s waggery in a main proof of her chastity, I am not here. I will do so, sir.

835BellamySo then, obscure yourself a while, while I approach her.

836AliciaWho’s there?

837Bellamy’Tis I, your servant, lady.

838AliciaSweet Bellamy, why come you not to bed?

839Saleware   [Aside]   Good.

840AliciaDoes the love that was so hot and the desire that was so fervent begin to cool in you?

841Saleware   [Aside]   Good again. As if he, an asinego, had ever made love to her fine waggery!

842AliciaHas my mere consent to satisfy you cloyed you?

843Saleware   [Aside]   Consent to my lord’s man? A likely matter!

844AliciaOr did you court me to a promise only to try my fidelity to your lord, and then betray me?

845BellamyDear lady, think not so, but that I am struck into stone with wonder and amazement at the most unexpected accident that ever crossed a lover.

846Saleware   [Aside]   Dainty waggery, this! What little mad rogues are these to plot this to make me jealous!

847AliciaPray, are you serious? What is the accident?

848BellamyI will not be so crossed, but kill him rather. To enjoy such a mistress, who would not kill a horned beast*? Yet blood is such a horror —

849Saleware   [Aside]   Very pretty!

850AliciaWill you not tell me?

851BellamySpeak lower, gentle lady.

852AliciaWhy, prithee? Who can hear us?

853BellamyI know not by what magic your jealous husband has made discovery of our being here; he wrought, sure, with the devil!

854AliciaI am undone then. He will tell my lord.

855SalewareI shall undo myself then, friend. No, Sapientia mea mihi. Be not dashed nor ’bashed for that, good friend, if there were any such matter. But this is waggery, fine waggery, plotted betwixt you to tempt my jealousy. But never the sooner for a hasty word, I warrant you. Master Bellamy, that my wife is here, I thank you. But how I came to know it you shall never know from me. You sent not for me; I am sure you were not the Anonymous. Indeed, it should have been Anomina*, friend-wife, for it was thy act, I dare swear. However, you do not hear me say I was sent or writ for at all, more than by a dream or vision. But here I am, and mean to remain tonight. I hope the house can afford you another bed in’t, Master Bellamy, and you to leave me to my own friend-wife.   [To ALICIA]   I like the lodging most curiously, sweet friend, and, I prithee, let’s try heartily what luck* we may have in a strange place. I would so fain have a little one like thee.

856BellamyI’ll leave you to your wishes. A good night to you.

857AliciaPray, sir, a word first. Husband, be farther.

858SalewareFaces about, Tom Saleware, and march forwards.

859AliciaYou told me, sir, of a hundred pound that your sweet Lady Thrivewell sent me.

860Bellamy’Tis true, I have it for you.

861AliciaBut she has since countermanded you to keep it, has she, and to mock my expectation of that and you? Why have you fooled me thus?

862BellamyI rather should suspect your craft in this prevention*. But love forbids me, and I must conclude ’tis witchcraft in your husband.

863AliciaCome, let’s kiss friends*, and, sweet, tomorrow night I will prevent his witchcraft in the full enjoyment of our free pleasures. Be you true to me.

864BellamyMay all that’s man in me forsake me else.

865AliciaAnother kiss and then good night.   [They kiss.]   

866SalewareAre you still whispering? No matter, let ’em whisper*.

867BellamyGood night.Exit.

868AliciaNow may the spirits of all injured women be added to mine own for my revenge, which I this night will dream of, slighted and mocked, he and his like shall know,
        That when a yielding woman is so crossed,
        All thoughts but of revenge with her are lost.

869SalewareOh, he’s gone. Ally, friend, I would say, and now I prithee tell me how or why thou cam’st hither.

870AliciaWill you pardon me?

871SalewareYes, faith, I were no friend else.

872Alicia’Twas but to try if I could make thee jealous.

873SalewareIn waggery! Did not I say so? When do my prophecies fail?

874AliciaBut what brought you hither, think you?

875SalewareA letter from one Anonymous, but I’ll eat spiders and break* if you sent it not.

876AliciaGive me the letter.

877SalewareWhere is it? Fegs, I ha’ lost it!

878Alicia’Twas I indeed that sent it.

879SalewareDid not I say so too? And that it should ha’ been Anonima*? Sapientia mea mihi, when do my prophecies fail? I’ll to bed instantly while the prophetic spirit* is in me, and get a small prophet or a soothsayer*.

880AliciaNo, I’ll have no bed-fellow tonight.

881SalewareNe’er the less for a hasty word, I hope, friend.

882AliciaI am at a word for that.

883SalewareI’ll lie upon thy feet then.

884AliciaWell, you may draw the curtains and sleep by me.

885SalewareSapientia mea mihi, stultitia tua tibi.   Puts* in the bed.   [SALEWARE and ALICIA] exit.
4.4
PHOEBE passes over the stage* in night attire*; CARELESS follows her as in the dark*.

886CarelessMadam, madam, sweet madam, ’twill not be day these three hours. Stay but three minutes longer, but a touch more — She’s whipped into her chamber.    [Searching for the door]   Could I but find the door — I know my uncle’s from home. Oh, she returns with light: that’s well.
Enter LADY [with] a light.

887LadyWhat ail you? Are you mad?

888CarelessWould not any man be mad for losing such a bed-fellow? Sweet madam, let us retire without any noise.

889LadyWhat an insatiate beast are you? Would you undo forever both me and yourself?

890CarelessNot with one do more, I warrant you. Come away, madam. [Knock] Madam, somebody knocks mainly at the gate, and I believe it is my master returned before his time!
Enter CLOSET.

891LadyI cannot think ’tis he.

892Careless’Tis the rogue my man, I warrant, drunk, and has forgot I turned him away. But he shall spoil no sport. Come away, madam.

893LadyCloset, go your ways down, and hark before you—*   [Whispers to CLOSET]   

894ClosetI will, madam.Exit.

895CarelessSo now come, madam, I commend you in the charge you have given your watch-woman.

896LadyWhat charge do you guess?

897CarelessWhy, to tell my uncle (if he be come) that he must not come near you, that you have had no rest tonight till just now you are fallen asleep, and so forth.

898LadyGo, you are a wicked fellow. I am sorry for any the least favour I have done thee. And do thou dare to attempt me once more, I’ll ha’ thee turned headlong out of my doors.

899Careless   [Aside]   I have got her with child tonight with a spark of mine own spirit, and longs* already to do me mischief. The boy will be like me, therefore ’tis pity to knock’t o’the head.   [Aloud]   But come, madam, tother crash and good night. Must I drag you to’t?

900LadyTouch me but with a finger and I’ll raise the house.

901CarelessYou dare not, sure, and now take heed you vex me not. Have you not been my whore?

902LadyYou dare not say so, for spoiling your fortune.

903CarelessFaith, but I dare, and if you will not obey me in a course of further pleasure tonight, fetch me a hundred pieces to take a course abroad* withal. Do ye look? I’ll make you fetch me hundred after hundred, huswife, when I want it or shall be pleased to call for’t. All comes out else: the gates of your fame flies open, lady. I will proclaim our act.

904LadyDare you forfeit your own reputation so?

905CarelessI shall gain reputation by’t in the company I keep abroad, and if the cuckold, my uncle, come to the knowledge of it at home, I shall possess him that you lustfully tempted me to it.

906LadyCanst thou be so villainously impudent to destroy thine own fortune* to ruin me?

907CarelessYou may conceal all then, and so will I, and mend my fortune by yours. I will live bravely upon your fortune, and the heir which I have got tonight shall inherit it, my uncle’s estate. And therefore, indeed, I would have all concealed for my child’s good, or rather for mine own. For it shall go hard if I put him not into a course in his minority to consume the estate upon me before he come to age.
Enter THRIVEWELL [and] SAVEALL.

908LadyI am undone.

909CarelessAnd oh, that ever I did it!

910LadyThou, villain, hast undone me.

911CarelessCome I’ll do you again, and then all’s whole* again.

912Thrivewell*You’re both undone. Oh you prodigious monsters
        That have betwixt you made me monster* too!
        What’s to be done, but that I kill you both,
        Then fall upon my sword.

913SaveallSir, you resume the temper of humanity
        And let the law distinguish you from them.
        You neither are to be their executioner,
        Nor to fall with them.

914ThrivewellLife to me is torment!

915CarelessOh, the devil, what a case am I in now!*

916LadyPray, hear me, sir?

917ThrivewellCan more be said to aggravate thy shame
        Or my affliction than I have heard already?

918SaveallLet me entreat you hear her.

919LadyWhat shame did you, or what affliction I
        Suffer, when you discovered unto me
        Your bargain of a hundred pound in saleware?
        You understand me. How was life a torment
        To me then, think you?

920ThrivewellDid you not vow forgivements* then? And thus
        You freely would forgive my act? And thus
        Now to revenge it on me to my ruin
        And your own endless infamy? Oh, ’tis horrid!

921Lady’Tis no revenge at all, only a show
        To startle you, or try your manly temper,
And so near to be even with ye as to let you know what some wife might perhaps ha’ done, being so moved. It was my plot indeed to strain you hither to this false-fire discovery, for which I’ll give you reasons.

922ThrivewellOh gross dissimulation!

923LadyMaster Saveall, you have done many fair offices for his nephew. Do this for me: entreat him* to a conference a few minutes in my chamber. If I clear not myself in his and your opinion, and that by witnesses, let me be found the shame of all my sex.

924Saveall   [To THRIVEWELL]    Sir, my counsels have been prevalent with your judgement, let me persuade you.

925ThrivewellBut I will have that friend thrust out of door first.

926LadyI would not that you should, nor give a look or word to him till you have heard me; then exercise your justice.

927Saveall   [To THRIVEWELL]   Sir, be induced to it.

928ThrivewellYou have prevailed.

929LadyGo to your bed again, George, and sleep. Be not afraid of bugbears.[LADY, THRIVEWELL and SAVEALL] exit.

930CarelessHow’s this? She’s come about again and has patched* all up already. I hope she’ll work mine uncle to reward me for my night work, and bring him in time to hold my stirrup* while his George mounts her. She’s a delicate well-going beast! I know but one to match her in a course, just the same pace and speed as if I had only had the breaking and managing of her myself. But the mark goes out of Phoebe’s mouth* now, and I’ll play my aunt against all the town. But how she thought to fright me with “villain” and “impudent”.
        And now go to bed, George — ha, ha, ha! I find her drift.
        No wit like women’s* at a sudden shift.[Exit.]

Edited by Eleanor Lowe