Act 5 — [Scene II.][2923]

Cran. Why do you search each room about your house, Now that you have despatch’d your wife away? Frank. Oh, sir! To see that nothing may be left That ever was my wife’s. I lov’d her dearly; And when I do but think of her unkindness,5 My thoughts are all in hell; to avoid which torment, I would not have a bodkin or a cuff, A bracelet, necklace, or rabato wire,[2924] Nor anything that ever was call’d hers, Left me, by which I might remember her.—10 Seek round about. Nich. ’Sblood! master, here’s her lute flung in a corner. Frank. Her lute! Oh, God! Upon this instrument Her fingers have rung quick division,[2925] Sweeter than that which now divides our hearts.15 These frets have made me pleasant,[2926] that have now Frets of my heart-strings made. Oh, Master Cranwell, Oft hath she made this melancholy wood (Now mute and dumb for her disastrous chance) Speak sweetly many a note, sound many a strain20 To her own ravishing voice; which being well strung, What pleasant strange airs have they jointly sung!— Post with it after her!—Now nothing’s left; Of her and hers I am at once bereft. Nich. I’ll ride and overtake her; do my message,25 And come back again. [Exit.] Cran. Meantime, sir, if you please, I’ll to Sir Francis Acton, and inform him Of what hath past betwixt you and his sister. Frank. Do as you please.—How ill am I bested, To be a widower ere my wife be dead! 30 [Exeunt.]