Richard Brome Online

212LucyY’are the first maid that e'er I entertained†

Upon so small acquaintance. Yet y’are welcome.

I like your hand† and carriage†.

213Phillis’Tis your favour†.

But love, they say, sweet mistress, is received

At the first sight, and why not service then,

Which often brings more absolute returns

Of the dear trust imposed†, and firmer faith

By servants than by lovers?

214LucyStay there, Phillis.

I may, by that, conjecture you have been

Deceived by some false lover.

215PhillisWho, I, mistress?

I hope I look too merrily* for such a one;

Somewhat too coarsely* too, to be beloved;

If I were sad and handsome, then it might

Be thought I were a little love-sick. Pray,

How long has this disease affected you?

This melancholy, mistress? Not ever since

You lost your father, I hope.

216LucyFor the most part.

Thou saidst, methought, that love might be ta'en in

At the first sight.

217Phillis [Aside] There ’tis. I find her*.

[Aloud] Love, mistress? yes, a maid may take in more

Love at one look, or at a little loop-hole†,

Then all the doddypolls* in town can purge

Out of her while she lives; she smothering it,

And not make known her passion*. There’s the mischief!

218LucySuppose she love* an enemy to her house†.

219PhillisAn enemy! Put case† the case* were yours.

220LucyBut ’tis no case of mine; put by†, I pray thee.

221PhillisI’ll put it to you though I miss your case.

Suppose it were your house, and Master Arthur,

Whose father was your father's enemy,

Were your beloved—

222LucyPray thee, no more.

223Phillis [Aside] Now I have struck the vein*. [Aloud] Suppose, I say,

All this were true! would you confound yourself

In smothering your love, which, in itself,

Is pure and innocent, until it grow

To a pernicious disease within you;

And hide it in your bosom, till it work†

Your kindled heart to ashes?

224LucyThou hast won

My patience to attention. Therefore tell me

If thou canst find or think it honourable

In me to take† such an affection?

225PhillisYes, and religious; most commendable,

Could you but win his love into a marriage

To beget peace between your families.

How many, and what great examples have we

From former ages, and of later times,

Of strong dissentions† between furious factions,

That to their opposite houses have drawn in

Either's allies and friends, whole provinces,

Yea, kingdoms into deadly opposition;

Till the wide wounds on both sides have sent forth

Rivers of blood, which only have been stopped

By the soft bands of love in marriages

Of equal branches, sprung from the first roots

Of all those hell-bred hatreds*!

226LucyMy good maid—

227Phillis [Aside] Yes, I have been a good one*, to my grief.

228LucyThou hast given me strength to tell thee, and I hope

When it is told, I shall have yet more ease.

229PhillisI warrant you, mistress. Therefore out with it.

230LucyI love that worthy gentleman; and am confident

That in the time of our two fathers' friendship

He affected† me no less: But since that time

I have not seen him, nor dare mention him

To wrong* my brother's patience, who is so passionate,

That could he but suspect I bred a thought

That favoured him, I were forever lost.

For this sad cause, as well as for the loss

Of my dear father, I have sighed away

Twelve moons in silent sorrow; and have heard

That Arthur too (but for what cause I know not)

Has not been seen abroad; but spends his time

In pensive solitude.

231PhillisPerhaps he grieves

As much for the supposed loss of you,

As of his father too.

232LucyThe best construction

I make of his retiredness, is the blessed

Prevention* (which I daily pray for) of

A fatal meeting ’twixt him and my brother,

Which would be sure the death of one or both.

And now that fear invades me, as it does always*

My brother being abroad; and such an absence

Has not been usual; I have not seen him

Since yesterday—

233PhillisFear nothing, mistress. Now you have eased your mind,

Let me alone to comfort you -

[Aloud] - And see, your brother!

234TheophilusHow is it with you, sister?

235Lucy *Much better now than when you left me, brother,

If no ill accident has happened you

Since your departure; as I fear there has*;

Why look you else so sadly? Speak, dear brother.

I hope you did not meet the man you hate.

If you did, speak. If you have fought and slain him,

I charge you tell, that I may know the worst

Of fortune can befall me: I shall gain

Perhaps a death* by’t.

236TheophilusYou speak as if you loved the man I hate,

And that you fear I have killed him.

237PhillisNot for love

Of him, I assure you, sir; but of yourself.

Her fear in this case, sir, is that the law

May take from her the comfort of her life

In taking you from her, and so she were

But a dead woman. We were speaking

Of such a danger just as you came in;

And truly, sir, my heart even tremble-tremble-trembles*,

To think upon it yet. Pray, sir, resolve her.

238TheophilusThen ’twas your frivolous fear that wrought in† her.

Good sister, be at peace: for, by my love to you,

An oath I will not violate, I neither saw

Nor sought him, I. But other thoughts perplex me.

239LucyWhat, were you at the wedding, brother?

240TheophilusWhose wedding, sister?

241LucyYour lost love, Millicent's. Are you now sad

After your last leave-taking?

242TheophilusWhat do you mean?

243LucyThere may be other matches, my good brother—

244TheophilusYou wrong me shamefully, to think that I

Can think of other than her memory.

Though she be lost and dead to me, can you

Be so unnatural as to desire

The separation of a thought of mine

From her dear memory, which is all the comfort

My heart is married to, or I can live by?

245PhillisSurely, good sir, in my opinion,

Sharp†, eager stomachs may be better fed

With airy smell of meat, than the bare thought

Of the most curious dainties—

246TheophilusWhat piece of impudence have you received

Into my house?

247LucyPray, brother, pardon me.

I took her, as I find her, for my comfort.

She has by counsel† and discourse† wrought much

Ease and delight into my troubled thoughts.

248TheophilusGood maid, forgive me; and my gentle sister,

I pray thee, bear with my distractions†.

249Phillis [Aside] A good-natured gentleman, for all his hasty flashes†.

250TheophilusAnd now I’ll tell you, sister — do not chide me —

I have a new affliction.

251LucyWhat is it, brother?

252TheophilusI am engaged† unto a gentleman,

A noble, valiant gentleman, for my life,

By hazarding his own, in my behalf.

253LucyIt was then against Arthur*.

What villain was’t durst take your cause in hand

Against that man?

254TheophilusYou wrong me beyond sufferance,

And my dear father's blood within yourself,

In seeming careful of that man's safety—

255PhillisHis safety, sir? Alas! she means, he is

A villain that would take the honour of

His death out of your hands, if he must fall*

By sword of man.

256TheophilusAgain, I ask you pardon. But I had

A quarrel yesterday, that drew strong odds

Upon my single person; three to one:

When, at the instant, that brave gentleman

With his sword, sides† me, puts’em all to flight—

257LucyBut how can that afflict you?

258TheophilusHow quick you are!

259LucyGood brother, I ha’ done*.

260TheophilusMy affliction is,

That I not know the man, to whom I am

So much engaged, to give him thanks at least.

O, sir, y’are welcome, though we parted somewhat

Abruptly yesterday.

261NathanielI thank you, sir.

262TheophilusPray thee, Nat, tell me, for I hope thou knowst him;

What gentleman was that came in betwixt us?

263NathanielIf the devil know him no better*, he will lose

A part of his due, I think. But to the purpose:

I knew your wonted nature would be friends

With me before I could come at you. However, I

Have news for you that might deserve your love,

Were you my deadly enemy.

264TheophilusWhat is’t pray thee?

265NathanielSweet mistress Lucy, so long unsaluted?

266LucyMy brother attends your news, sir.

267Nathaniel [Aside] My wench become her chambermaid! Very pretty!

How the jade† mumps† for fear I should discover her.

268TheophilusYour news, good Nat? What, is it ready made,

Or are you now but coining* it?

269NathanielNo, it was coined last night, o’the right stamp,

And passes current* for your good. Now know,

That I, and Mun*, and Vince, with divers† others

Of our comrades, were last night at the bride-house†.

270TheophilusWhat mischief did you there?

271NathanielA masque, a masque lad, in which we presented

The Miseries of Enforced Marriages*

So lively— Zooks†, lay by your captious countenance*,

And hear me handsomely*.

272LucyGood brother, do, it has a fine beginning.

273NathanielBut mark what follows:

This morning, early up we got again,

And with our fiddlers made a fresh assault

And battery ’gainst the bed-rid bridegroom's window

With an old song, a very wondrous old one,

Of all the cares, vexations, fears and torments

That a decrepit, nasty, rotten husband

Meets in a youthful, beauteous, sprightly wife:

So as the weak wretch will shortly be afraid

That his own feebler shadow makes him cuckold*.

Our masque o’er night† begat† a separation

Betwixt ’em before bedtime: for we found

Him at one window, coughing and spitting at us;

She at another, laughing, and throwing money

Down to the fiddlers, while her Uncle Testy

From a third porthole† raves, denouncing† law,

And thundering statutes ’gainst their minstrelsy*.

274LucyWould he refuse his bride-bed the first night?

275PhillisHang him.

276NathanielOur horn-masque* put him off it†, bless my invention,

For which, I think, you’ll judge she’ll forsake him

All nights and days hereafter. Here’s a blessing*

Prepared now for you, if you have grace to follow it.

277TheophilusOut of my house, that I may kill thee! Go:

For here it were inhospitable*. Hence,

Thou busy† villain*, that with sugared malice

Hast poisoned all my hopes*, ruined my comforts

In that sweet soul forever. Go, I say,

That I may with the safety of my manhood*

Right* me upon that mischievous head of thine.

278NathanielIs this your way of thanks for courtesies?

Or is’t our luck always to meet good friends,

And never part so? Yet before I go,

I will demand your reason (if you have any)

Wherein our friendly care* can prejudice you,

Or poison any hopes of yours in Millicent?

279LucyPray, brother, tell him.

280TheophilusYes: that he may die

Satisfied, that I did but justice on him,

In killing him. That villain, old in mischief

(Hell take him!) that has married her, conceives

It was my plot (I know he does) and, for

A sure revenge, will either work her death

By poison, or some other cruelty,

Or keep her locked up in such misery

That I shall never see her more.

281NathanielI answer—

282TheophilusNot in a word, let me entreat you, go.

283NathanielFair Mistress Lucy—

284TheophilusNeither shall she hear you.

285NathanielHer maid shall then, or I’ll not out* to night.

286PhillisOn what acquaintance, sir?

287Nathaniel [Aside to PHILLIS] Be not afraid*: I take no notice o’thee,

I like thy course, wench, and will keep thy counsel†,

And come sometimes, and bring thee a bit† and th’wilt*.

288Phillis [Aside to NATHANIEL] I’ll see you choked first.

289Nathaniel [Aside to PHILLIS] Thou art not the first

Cast† wench that has made a good chamber-maid.

290Phillis [Aside to NATHANIEL] O, you are base, and I could claw your eyes out.

291Nathaniel [Aloud to PHILLIS] Pray tell your master now.* [Aloud to THEOPHILUS] So fare you well, sir.*[NATHANIEL] exits.

292LucyI thank you, brother, that you promise me

You will not follow him now: some other time

Will be more fit. What said he to you, Phillis?

293PhillisMarry he said - [Aside] help me, good apron strings!

294TheophilusWhat was it that he said?

295Phillis [Aside] I have it now.

[Aloud] It was in answer, sir, of your objections.

First, that you feared the old man wickedly

Would make away his wife: to which he saies,

That is not to be feared, while she has so

Much fear of heaven before her eyes*. And next,

That he would lock her up from sight of man:

To which he answers, she is so endued†

With wit of woman*, that, were she locked up

Or had locks hung upon her, locks upon locks;

Locks of prevention, or security*;

Yet being a woman, she would have her will*,

And break those locks as easily as her wedlock.

Lastly, for your access unto her sight:

If you have land, he says, to sell or mortgage,

He’ll undertake* his doors, his wife* and all,

Shall fly wide open to you.

296TheophilusHe* could not say so.

297LucyTroth, but ’tis like his wild way of expression.

298Phillis [Aside] Yes; I knew that: my wit else had been puzzled.

299TheophilusAnd now I find my self instructed by him;

And friends with him again.

Now, Arnold, any tidings?

300ArnoldNot of the gentleman that fought for you,

But I have other news that’s worth your knowledge.

Your enemy, young Arthur, that has not

Been seen abroad this twelvemonth is got forth

In a disguise I hear, and weaponed well.

I have it from most sure intelligence.†

Look to yourself, sir.

301LucyMy blood chills again.

302TheophilusPseugh†, I’ll not think of him. To dinner, sister.[THEOPHILUS, LUCY, and PHILLIS exit.]

303QuicksandsHere was a good night, and good morrow too,

Given by a crew† of devils.

304Testy’Twas her* plot,

And let her smart† for’t.

305MillicentSmart, sir, did you say?

I think ’twas smart† enough for a young bride

To be made lie alone, and gnaw the sheets*

Upon her wedding.

306TestyRare impudence!

307MillicentBut for your* satisfaction, as I hope

To gain your favour as you are my uncle,

I know not any actor* in this business.

308BuzzardSir, here’s a letter, thrown into the entry†.

309TestyIt is some villanous libel then, I warrant.

Sawst thou not who conveyed it in?

310BuzzardNot I. I only found it, sir.

311QuicksandsPray read it you. Not my own house free from ’em!

The devil owed me a spite†; and when he has ploughed†

An old man’s lust up, he sits grinning at him.

Nay, I that have so many gallant† enemies

On fire to do me mischief, or disgrace;

That I must provide tinder for their sparks!

The very thought bears weight enough to sink me.

312MillicentMay I be worthy, sir, to know your trouble?

313QuicksandsDo you know yourself?

314MillicentAm I your trouble then?

315Quicksands’Tis sworn and written in that letter there

Thou shalt be wicked. Hundreds have ta’en oaths

To make thee false, and me a horned† monster.

316MillicentAnd does that trouble you?

317TestyDoes it not you?

318MillicentA dream has done much more. Pray, sir, your patience,

And now I will be serious*, and endeavour

To mend your faith in me. Is’t in their power

To destroy virtue, think you? or do you

Suppose me false already? ’tis perhaps

Their plot to drive you into that opinion.

And so to make you cast me out amongst ’em:

You may do so upon the words of strangers;

And if they tell you all* your gold is counterfeit,

Throw that out after me.

319TestyNow she speaks woman*.

320MillicentBut since these men pretend, and you suppose ’em

To be my friends, that carry this presumption*

Over† my will, I’ll take charge of myself,

And do fair justice, both on them and you:

My honour is my own; and I’m no more

Yours yet, on whom my uncle has bestowed me,

Than all the world’s, the ceremony off*;

And will remain so, free from them and you,

Who, by the false light of their wildfire flashes*

Have slighted and depraved me and your bride-bed;

Till you recant your wilful ignorance*,

And they their petulant folly.

321TestyThis sounds well.

322MillicentBoth they and you trench on† my peace and honour,

Dearer than beauty, pleasure, wealth and fortune.

I would stand under the fall of my estate

Most cheerfully, and sing, for there be ways

To raise up fortune’s ruins, were her towers

Shattered in pieces, and the glorious ball*

She stands on cleft asunder: but for peace

Once ruined, there’s no reparation;

If honour fall, which is the soul of life,

’Tis like the damned, it ne’er lifts the head

Up to the light again.

323TestyNiece, thou hast won me;

And nephew, she’s too good for you. I charge you,

Give her her will: I’ll have her home again else.

324QuicksandsI know not what I can deny her now.

325MillicentI ask but this, that you will give me leave

To keep a vow I made, which was last night

Because you slighted me.

326TestyStay there a little.

[Aside to QUICKSANDS] I’ll lay the price of twenty maidenheads*

Now, as the market goes, you get not hers

This sennight†.

327MillicentMy vow is for a month; and for so long

I crave your faithful promise not to attempt me.

In the meantime, because I will be quit†

With my trim†, forward† gentlemen, and secure you

From their assaults, let it be given out,

That you have sent me down into the country

Or back unto my uncle's; whither you please.

328QuicksandsOr, tarry, tarry—stay, stay here a while.

329MillicentSo I intend, sir, I’ll not leave your house,

But be locked up in some convenient room

Not to be seen by any, but yourself:

Or else to have the liberty of your house

In some disguise, if it were possible,

Free from the least suspicion of your servants.

330TestyWhat needs all this?

Do we not live in a well-governed city?

And have not I authority? I’ll take

The care and guard of you and of your house

’Gainst all outrageous attempts; and clap†

Those goatish† roarers† up, fast as they come.

331QuicksandsI understand her drift†, sir, and applaud

Her quaint† device†. ’Twill put ’em to more trouble,

And more expense in doubtful search of her.

The best way to undo ’em is to foil† ’em

At their own weapons. ’Tis not to be thought

They’ll seek by violence to force her from me,

But wit; in which we’ll overcome ’em.

332TestyAgree on’t ’twixt yourselves. I see y’are friends.

I’ll leave you to yourselves.

[Aside to MILLICENT] Hark hither, niece—now I dare trust you with him.

He is in years†, ’tis true. But hear’st thou girl,

Old foxes are best blades*.

333Millicent [Aside to TESTY] I’m sure they stink most.

334Testy [Aside to MILLICENT] Good keeping makes him bright* and young again.

335Millicent [Aside to TESTY] But for how long?

336Testy [Aside to MILLICENT] A year or two, perhaps.

Then, when he dies, his wealth makes thee a countess.

337Millicent [Aside to TESTY] You speak much comfort, sir.

338TestyThat’s my good girl!

[Aloud to QUICKSANDS] And nephew, love her, I find she deserves it;

Be as benevolent to her as you can;

Show your good will, at least. You do not know

How the good will of an old man may work

In a young wife. I must now take my journey

Down to my country house. At your month’s end

I’ll visit you again. No ceremony!

Joy and content be with you.

339Quicksands and MillicentAnd a good journey to you.TESTY exits.

340QuicksandsYou are content, you say, to be locked up

Or put in some disguise, and have it said

Y’are gone unto your uncle's. I have heard

Of some bridegrooms that shortly after marriage

Have gone to see their uncles*, seldom brides.

I have thought of another course.

341MillicentBe’t any way.

342QuicksandsWhat if it were given out y’are run away

Out of a detestation of your match?

343Millicent’Twould pull a blot upon my reputation.

344QuicksandsWhen they consider my unworthiness,

’Twill give it credit. They’ll commend you for it.

345MillicentYou speak well for yourself.

346QuicksandsI speak as they’ll speak.

347MillicentWell; let it be so then; I am content.

348QuicksandsWe’ll put this instantly in act. The rest,

As for disguise, or privacy in my house,

You’ll leave to me.

349MillicentAll, sir, to your dispose†,

Provided still you urge not to infringe

My vow concerning my virginity.

350Quicksands’Tis the least thing I think on.

I will not offer at it till your time.

351MillicentWhy, here’s a happiness in a husband now.[QUICKSANDS and MILLICENT exit.]

352DionysiaThou tell’st me things that truth never came near.

353Rafe’Tis perfect truth: you may believe it, lady.

354DionysiaMaintain’t but in one syllable more, I’ll tear

Thy mischievious tongue out.

355RafeFit reward for tell-troths†.

But that’s not the reward you promised me.

For watching of your brothers actions;

You said forsooth (if’t please you to remember)

That you would love me for it.

356DionysiaArrogant rascal!

I bade thee bring account of what he did

Against his enemy; and thou reportest

He took his enemy's danger on himself,

And helped to rescue him whose bloody father

Killed ours. Can truth or common reason claim

A part in this report? My brother do’t,

Or draw a sword to help Theophilus!

357Rafe [Aside] ’Tis not for any spite I owe my master,

But for my itch† at her that I do this.

I am strangely taken. Such brave-spirited women

Have cherished strong-backed servingmen* ere now.

358DionysiaWhy dost not get thee from my sight, false fellow?

359RafeI’ll be believed first. Therefore pray have patience

To peruse that.

360DionysiaMy brother’s character†!

Theophilus’ sister’s name—'The brighter Lucy'

So often written? nothing but her name,

But change of attributes†—one serves not twice.

'Blessed', 'divine', 'illustrious', 'all perfection',

And—so heaven bless me!—'powerful' in one place.

The worst thing I read yet, 'heap of all virtues',

'Bright shining', and all these ascribed to Lucy.

O! I could curse thee now for being so just.

Would thou hadst belied† him still.

361RafeI ne’er belied him, I.

362DionysiaO mischief of affection! Monstrous! Horrid!

It shall not pass so quietly.

Nay, stay.

363Rafe [Aside] She’ll cut my throat, I fear.

364DionysiaThou art a faithful servant.

365Rafe [Aside] It may do yet.*

[Aloud] To you I am, sweet lady, and to my master

In true construction*: he is his friend I think

That finds his follies out to have them cured,

Which you have only* the true spirit to do.

366DionysiaHow I do love thee now!

367RafeAnd your love, mistress,

Brave, sprightly† mistress, is the steeple top,

Or rather weathercock o’top of that,

To which aspires my life’s ambition.

368DionysiaHow didst thou get this paper?

369RafeAmongst many

Of his rare twelve-months-melancholy* works

That lie in’s study. Mistress, ’tis apparent

His melancholy all this while has been

More for her love, than for his father’s death.

370DionysiaThou hast my love for ever.

371RafeSome small token

In earnest† of it, mistress, would be felt.

372DionysiaTake that in earnest then.

373Rafe [Aside] It is a sure one.

And the most feeling pledge she could have given:

For she is a virago†. And I have read

That your viragoes use to strike all those

They mean to lie with: And from thence ’tis taken

That your brave active women are called strikers*.

374DionysiaSet me that chair.

375Rafe [Aside] The warm touch of my flesh

Already works in her. I shall be set

To better work immediately.

I am prevented!

376DionysiaAway and be not seen. Be sure I love thee.

377Rafe [Aside] Aha! This clinches*. Another time I’m sure on’t.[RAFE] exits.

378ArthurSister! Where are you? How now! Not well? Or sleepy?

379DionysiaSick, brother*—sick at heart, oh—

380ArthurPassion of heart*! Where are our servants now

To run for doctors? Ho!†

381DionysiaPray stay and hear me.

Here’s no work for them*. They’ll find a master here

Too powerful for the strength of all their knowledge.

382ArthurWhat, at thy heart?

383DionysiaYes, brother, at my heart,

Too scornful to be dispossessed by them.

384ArthurWhat may that proud† grief be? Good sister, name it.

385DionysiaIt grieves me more to name it, than to suffer’t.

Since I have endured the worst on’t, and proved constant

To sufferance and silence*, ’twere a weakness

Now to betray a sorrow, by a name,

More fit to be severely felt than known.

386ArthurIndeed I’ll know it.

387DionysiaRather let me die,

Than so afflict your understanding, sir.

388ArthurIt shall not afflict me.

389DionysiaI know you’ll chide me for’t.

390ArthurIndeed you wrong me now. Can I chide you?

391DionysiaIf you be true and honest you must do’t,

And heartily.

392Arthur [Aside] You tax† me nearly there.

393DionysiaAnd that’s the physic must help me, or nothing.

394ArthurWith grief I go about to cure a grief then.

Now speak it boldly, sister.

395DionysiaNoble physician! It is—

396ArthurIt is! What is it? If you love me, speak.

397Dionysia’Tis—love, and I beseech thee, spare me not.

398ArthurAlas dear sister, canst thou think that love

Deserves a chiding in a gentle breast?

399DionysiaDo you pity me already? O faint man

That tremblest but at opening of a wound!

What hope is there of thee to search† and dress it?

But I am in thy hands, and forced to try thee.

I love—Theophilus—

400ArthurHa!†

401DionysiaTheophilus, brother;

His son that slew our father. There’s a love!

O more than time ’twere looked*, for fear it festers.

402Arthur Aside* She has put me to’t indeed*. What must I do?

She has a violent spirit; so has he*;

And though I wish most seriously the match,

Whereby to work mine own with his fair sister,

The danger yet, in the negotiation

May quite destroy my course, spoil all my hopes.

I’ll therefore put her off on’t* if I can.

403DionysiaCan you be tender now?

404ArthurWhat! To undo you?

I love you not so slightly. Pardon me.

A rough hand must be used, for here’s a wound

Must not be gently touched†; you perish then*,

Under a brother’s pity. Pray sit quiet,

For you must suffer all.

405DionysiaI’ll strive to do it.

406ArthurTo love the son of him that slew your father!

To say it shews unlovingness of nature,

Forgetfulness in blood, were all but shallow

To the great depth of danger your fault stands in.

It rather justifies the act itself*,

And commends that down to posterity

By your blood-cherishing embraces. Children,

Born of your body, will, instead of tears,

By your example, offer a thankful joy

To the sad memory of their grandsire's slaughter.

Quite contrary! How fearful ’tis to think on’t!

What may the world say too? There goes a daughter,

Whose strange desire leaped from her father’s ruin;

Death gave her to the bridegroom; and the marriage

Knit fast and cemented with blood*. O sister—

407DionysiaO brother!

408ArthurHow! Well? And so quickly cured?

409DionysiaDissembler, foul dissembler!

410ArthurThis is plain.

411DionysiaTh’hast played with fire; and like a cunning fellow

Bit in† thy pain o’purpose to deceive

Another’s tender touch. I know thy heart weeps

For what’t has spoke against. Thou that darest love

The daughter of that fiend that slew thy father,

And plead against thy cause! unfeeling man,

Can not thy own words melt thee? To that end

I wrought and raised ’em. ’Twas to win thy health

That I was sick; I played thy disease to thee,

That thou mightst see the loathed complexion on't,

Far truer in another than one's self.

And, if thou canst, after all this, tread wickedly,

Thou art a rebel to all natural love

And filial duty; dead to all just counsel;

And every word thou mockedst with vehemence

Will rise a wounded father in thy conscience,

To scourge thy judgement.

There’s thy saint crossed out*,

And all thy memory with her. I’ll ne’er trust

Revenge again with thee, so false is manhood,

But take it now into mine own power fully,

And see what I can do with my life’s hazard;†

Your purpose shall ne’er thrive. There I’ll make sure work.[DIONYSIA] exit[s].

412ArthurHow wise and cunning is a womans malice!

I never was so cozened.[ARTHUR] exit[s].