Well. What, school'd on both sides? Pr'ythee, Bridget, save me from the rod and lecture.


Kite. With what a decent modesty she rates him!
My heart's at ease, and she shall see it is――
How art thou, wife! Thou look'st both gay and

In troth, thou dost-I'm sent for out, my dear,
But I shall soon return-Indeed, my life,

Business, that forces me abroad, grows irksome,
I cou'd content me with less gain and 'vantage,
To have the more at home, indeed I cou'd.

Dame. Your doubts, as well as love, may breed these thoughts.

Kite. That jar untunes me.

What dost thou say? Doubt thee?

I should as soon suspect myself—No, no,

My confidence is rooted in thy merit,

So fix'd and settled, that, wert thou inclin'd


To masks, to sports, and balls, where lusty youth
Leads up the wanton dance, and the rais'd pulse
Beats quicker measures, yet I could with joy,
With heart's ease and security-not but

I had rather thou should'st prefer thy home,
And me, to toys and such like vanities.
Dame. But sure, my dear,

A wife may moderately use these pleasures,
Which numbers and the time give sanction to,

Without the smallest blemish on her name.

Kite. And so she may-And I'll go with thee,


I will indeed—I'll lead thee there myself,

And be the foremost reveller.- -I'll silence
The sneers of envy, stop the tongue of slander;
Nor will I more be pointed at, as one

Disturb'd with jealousy————

Dame. Why, were you ever so?

Kite. What!-Ha! never-ha! ha! ha! She stabs me home. [Aside.] Jealous of thee! No, do not believe it-Speak low, my love,


brother will overhear us-No, no, my dear,
It cou'd not be, it cou'd not be-for-for-
What is the time now?--I shall be too late-
No, no, thou may'st be satisfied

There's not the smallest spark remaining-
Remaining! What do I say? There never was
Nor can, nor never shall be-so be satisfied-
Is Cob within there? Give me a kiss,

My dear; there, there, now we are reconcil'd-
I'll be back immediately-Goodbye, goodbye-

Ha! ha! jealous! I shall burst my sides with laugh


Ha! ha! Cob, where are you, Cob? Ha! ha!—

[Exit. [WELLBRED and BRIDGET come forward. Well. What have you done, to make your husband part so merry from you? He has of late been little given to laughter.

Dame. He laughed, indeed, but seemingly without mirth. His behaviour is new and strange. He is much agitated, and has some whimsy in his head, that puzzles mine to read it.

Well. 'Tis jealousy, good sister, and writ so largely, that the blind may read it; have you not perceived it yet?

Dame. If I have, 'tis not always prudent that my tongue should betray my eyes, so far my wisdom tends, good brother, and little more I boast-But what makes him ever calling for Cob so? I wonder how he can employ him.

Well. Indeed, sister, to ask how he employs Cob, is a necessary question for you, that are his wife, and a thing not very easy for you to be satisfied in-But this I'll assure you, Cob's wife is an excellent procuress, sister, and oftentimes your husband haunts

her house; marry, to what end, I cannot altogether accuse him. Imagine what you think convenient, But I have known fair hides have foul hearts ere now, sister.

Dame. Never said you truer than that, brother; so much I can tell you for your learning. O, ho! is this the fruits of's jealousy? I thought some game was in the wind, he acted so much tenderness but now; but I'll be quit with him.-Thomas! Fetch your hat, and go with me; I'll get my hood, and out the backward way. I would to fortune I could take him there, I'd return him his own, I warrant him! I'd fit him for his jealousy!

[Exit. Well. Ha! ha! so e'en let them go; this may make sport anon- -What, Brainworm?


Brain. I saw the merchant turn the corner, and come back to tell you, all goes well; wind and tide, my master.

Well. But how got'st thou this apparel of the Justice's man?

Brain. Marry, sir, my proper fine penman would needs bestow the grist o'me at the Windmill, to hear some martial discourse, where I so marshalled him, that I made him drunk with admiration; and because too much heat was the cause of his distemper, I stripped him stark naked, as he lay along asleep, and borrowed his suit to deliver this counterfeit message in, leaving a rusty armour, and an old brown bill, to watch him 'till my return; which shall be, when I have pawned his apparel, and spent the better part of the money, perhaps.

Well. Well, thou art a successful, merry knave, Brainworm; his absence will be subject for more mirth. I pray thee, return to thy young master, and will him to meet me and my sister Bridget at the Tower instantly; for here, tell him, the house is so

stored with jealousy, there is no room for love to stand upright in. We must get our fortunes committed to some large prison, say: and than the Tower, I know no better air, nor where the liberty of the house may do us more present service. Away. [Exit BRAINWORM.

Bridg. What, is this the engine that you told me of? What farther meaning have you in the plot? Well. That you may know, fair sister-in-law, how happy a thing it is to be fair and beautiful.

Bridg. That touches not me, brother,

Well. That's true; that's even the fault of it. Well, there's a dear and well respected friend of mine, sister, stands very strongly and worthily af fected towards you, and hath vowed to inflame whole bonfires of zeal at his heart, in honour of your perfections. I have already engaged my promise to bring you where you shall hear him confirm much

more, Ned Kno'well is the man, sister. There's no exception against the party; you are ripe for a husband, and a minute's loss to such an occasion, is a great trespass in a wise beauty. What say you, sister? On my soul, he loves you; will you give him the meeting?

Bridg. Faith, I had very little confidence in my own constancy, brother, if I durst not meet a man; but this motion of yours savours of an old knight adventurer's servant, a little too much, methinks. Well. What's that, sister?

Bridg. Marry, of the go-between.

Well. No matter if it did; I would be such a one for my friend. But see, who, is returned, to hin der us.


Kite. What villainy is this? Called out on a false message! This was some plot. I was not sent for. Bridget, where's your sister?

Bridg. I think she be gone forth, sir.

Kite. How! is my wife gone forth? Whither, for Heaven's sake?

Bridg. She's gone abroad with Thomas.

Kite. Abroad with Thomas! Oh, that villain cheats me!

He hath discover'd all unto my wife;

Beast that I was, to trust him. Whither, I pray
You, went she?

Bridg. I know not, sir.

Well. I'll tell you, brother, whither I suspect she's


Kite. Whither, good brother?

Well. To Cob's house, 1 believe; but keep my counsel.

Kite. I will, I will. To Cob's house! Does she haunt there?

She's gone on purpose now to cuckold me,
With that lewd rascal, who, to win her favour,
Hath told her all-Why wou'd you let her go?
Well. Because she's not my wife; if she were, I'd
keep her to her tether.

Kite. So, so; now 'tis plain. I shall go mad
With my misfortunes; now they pour in torrents.
I'm bruted by my wife, betray'd by my servant,
Mock'd at by my relations, pointed at by my neigh-

Despis'd by myself.-There is nothing left now
But to revenge myself first, next hang myself;
And then-all my cares will be over.


Bridg. He storms most loudly; sure you have gone too far in this.

Well. "Twill all end right, depend upon't.-But let us lose no time; the coast is clear; away, away; the affair is worth it, and cries haste.

Bridg. I trust me to your guidance, brother, and so fortune for us. [Exeunt.

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