Act 5 — [Scene II.][2865]

Nich. I cannot eat; but had I Wendoll’s heart,20 I would eat that. The rogue grows impudent, Oh! I have seen such vile, notorious tricks, Ready to make my eyes dart from my head. I’ll tell my master: by this air, I will; Fall what may fall, I’ll tell him. Here he comes.25

Frank. Nicholas, what make you here? Why are not you At supper in the hall, among your fellows? Nich. Master, I stay’d your rising from the board, To speak with you. Frank. Be brief then, gentle Nicholas; My wife and guests attend[2869] me in the parlour.30 Why dost thou pause? Now, Nicholas, you want money, And, unthrift-like, would eat into your wages Ere you had earn’d it. Here, sir, ’s half-a-crown; Play the good husband,[2870]—and away to supper! Nich. By this hand, an honourable gentleman! I will not see him wrong’d.35 Sir, I have serv’d you long; you entertain’d me Seven years before your beard; you knew me, sir, Before you knew my mistress. Frank. What of this, good Nicholas? Nich. I never was a make-bate[2871] or a knave;40 I have no fault but one—I’m given to quarrel, But not with women. I will tell you, master, That which will make your heart leap from your breast, Your hair to startle from your head, your ears to tingle. Frank. What preparation’s this to dismal news?45 Nich. ’Sblood! sir, I love you better than your wife. I’ll make it good. Frank. You are a knave, and I have much ado With wonted patience to contain my rage, And not to break thy pate. Thou art a knave.50 I’ll turn you, with your base comparisons, Out of my doors. Nich. Do, do. There is not room for Wendoll and me too, Both in one house. O master, master, That Wendoll is a villain! Frank. Ay, saucy?55 Nich. Strike, strike, do strike; yet hear me! I am no fool; I know a villain, when I see him act Deeds of a villain. Master, master, the base slave Enjoys my mistress, and dishonours you. Frank. Thou hast kill’d me with a weapon, whose sharp point60 Hath prick’d quite through and through my shiv’ring heart. Drops of cold sweat sit dangling on my hairs, Like morning’s dew upon the golden flowers, And I am plung’d into strange agonies. What did’st thou say? If any word that toucht65 His credit, or her reputation, It is as hard to enter my belief, As Dives into heaven. Nich. I can gain nothing: They are two that never wrong’d me. I knew before ’T was but a thankless office, and perhaps70 As much as is my service, or my life Is worth. All this I know; but this, and more, More by a thousand dangers, could not hire me To smother such a heinous wrong from you. I saw, and I have said.75 Frank. ’T is probable. Though blunt, yet he is honest. Though I durst pawn my life, and on their faith Hazard the dear salvation of my soul, Yet in my trust I may be too secure. May this be true? Oh, may it? Can it be?80 Is it by any wonder possible? Man, woman, what thing mortal can we trust, When friends and bosom wives prove so unjust?— What instance[2872] hast thou of this strange report? Nich. Eyes, [master,] eyes.85 Frank. Thy eyes may be deceiv’d, I tell thee; For should an angel from the heavens drop down, And preach this to me that thyself hast told, He should have much ado to win belief; In both their loves I am so confident.90 Nich. Shall I discourse the same by circumstance? Frank. No more! To supper, and command your fellows To attend us and the strangers! Not a word, I charge thee, on thy life! Be secret then; For I know nothing.95 Nich. I am dumb; and, now that I have eas’d my stomach,[2873] I will go fill my stomach. [Exit.] Frank. Away! Begone!— She is well born, descended nobly; Virtuous her education; her repute Is in the general voice of all the country100 Honest and fair; her carriage, her demeanour, In all her actions that concern the love To me her husband, modest, chaste, and godly. Is all this seeming gold plain copper? But he, that Judas that hath borne my purse, Hath sold me for a sin. O God! O God!106 Shall I put up these wrongs? No! Shall I trust The bare report of this suspicious groom, Before the double-gilt, the well-hatch’d[2874] ore Of their two hearts? No, I will lose these thoughts;110 Distraction I will banish from my brow, And from my looks exile sad discontent. Their wonted favours in my tongue shall flow; Till I know all, I ’ll nothing seem to know.— Lights and a table there! Wife, Master Wendoll,115 And gentle Master Cranwell!

Frank. O! Master Cranwell, you are a stranger here, And often balk[2875] my house; faith, y’ are a churl!— Now we have supp’d, a table, and to cards!

Mrs. F. Come, Mr. Frankford, who shall take my part?[2878] Frank. Marry, that will I, sweet wife. 129

Frank. [Aside.] My saint ’s turn’d devil.—No, we ’ll none of saint:160 You are best at new-cut, wife, you ’ll play at that. Wen. If you play at new-cut, I ’m soonest hitter of any here, for a wager. Frank. [Aside.] ’T is me they play on.—Well, you may draw out;164 For all your cunning, ’t will be to your shame; I’ll teach you, at your new-cut, a new game. Come, come! Cran. If you cannot agree upon the game, To post and pair! Wen. We shall be soonest pairs; and my good host,170 When he comes late home, he must kiss the post.[2882] Frank. Whoever wins, it shall be to thy cost. Cran. Faith, let it be vide-ruff, and let’s make honours! Frank. If you make honours, one thing let me crave: Honour the king and queen, except the knave.175 Wen. Well, as you please for that.—Lift,[2883] who shall deal? Mrs. F. The least in sight. What are you, Master Wendoll? Wen. I am a knave. Nich. [Aside.] I’ll swear it. Mrs. F. I a queen. Frank. [Aside.] A quean, thou should’st say.—Well, the cards are mine: They are the grossest pair[2884] that e’er I felt.180 Mrs. F. Shuffle, I’ll cut: would I had never dealt! Frank. I have lost my dealing. Wen. Sir, the fault’s in me; This queen I have more than mine own, you see. Give me the stock![2884] Frank. My mind ’s not on my game. Many a deal I’ve lost; the more ’s your shame. You have serv’d me a bad trick, Master Wendoll.186 Wen. Sir, you must take your lot. To end this strife, I know I have dealt better with your wife. Frank. Thou hast dealt falsely, then. Mrs. F. What ’s trumps?190 Wen. Hearts. Partner, I rub. Frank. [Aside.] Thou robb’st me of my soul, of her chaste love; In thy false dealing thou hast robb’d my heart.— Booty you play; I like a loser stand, Having no heart, or here or in my hand.195 I will give o’er the set, I am not well. Come, who will hold my cards? Mrs. F. Not well, sweet Master Frankford? Alas what ails you? ’T is some sudden qualm. Wen. How long have you been so, Master Frankford?200 Frank. Sir, I was lusty, and I had my health, But I grew ill when you began to deal.— Take hence this table!—Gentle Master Cranwell, Y’ are welcome; see your chamber at your pleasure! I am sorry that this megrim takes me so,205 I cannot sit and bear you company.— Jenkin, some lights, and show him to his chamber![2885] Mrs. F. A nightgown for my husband; quickly, there! It is some rheum or cold. Wen. Now, in good faith, This illness you have got by sitting late210 Without your gown. Frank. I know it, Master Wendoll. Go, go to bed, lest you complain like me!— Wife, prithee, wife, into my bed-chamber! The night is raw and cold, and rheumatic. Leave me my gown and light; I ’ll walk away my fit.215 Wen. Sweet sir, good night! Frank. Myself, good night! [Exit Wendoll.] Mrs. F. Shall I attend you, husband? Frank. No, gentle wife, thou ’lt catch cold in thy head. Prithee, begone, sweet; I’ll make haste to bed. Mrs. F. No sleep will fasten on mine eyes, you know,220 Until you come. [Exit.] Frank. Sweet Nan, I prithee, go!— I have bethought me; get me by degrees The keys of all my doors, which I will mould In wax, and take their fair impression, To have by them new keys. This being compast,225 At a set hour a letter shall be brought me, And when they think they may securely play, They nearest are to danger.—Nick, I must rely Upon thy trust and faithful secrecy. Nich. Build on my faith! Frank. To bed, then, not to rest! Care lodges in my brain, grief in my breast.231 [Exeunt.]