Wife.
What will become of us? All will away:
My husband never ceases in expence,
Both to consume his credit and his house;
And 'tis set down by heaven's just decree,
That riot's child must needs be beggary.

Are these the virtues that his youth did promise?
Dice and voluptuous meetings, midnight revels,
Taking his bed with surfeits; ill beseeming
The antient honour of his house and name?
And this not all, but that which kills me most,
When he recounts his losses and false fortunes,
The weakness of his state so much dejected^{1 note}






,
Not as a man repentant, but half mad
His fortunes cannot answer his expence,
He sits, and sullenly locks up his arms;
Forgetting heaven, looks downward; which makes him
Appear so dreadful that he frights my heart:
Walks heavily, as if his soul were earth;
Not penitent for those his sins are past,
But vex'd his money cannot make them last:
A fearful melancholy, ungodly sorrow.
O, yonder he comes; now in despight of ills
I'll speak to him, and I will hear him speak,
And do my best to drive it from his heart. Enter Husband.

Hus.
Pox o' the last throw^{2 note}

Vanish from my sight. I am damn'd, I'm damn'd;
The angels have forsook me^{3 note}
. Nay it is
Certainly true; for he that has no coin
Is damn'd in this world; he is gone, he's gone.

Wife.
Dear husband.

Hus.
O! most punishment of all, I have a wife^{4 note}


.

Wife.
I do entreat you, as you love your soul,
Tell me the cause of this your discontent.

Hus.
A vengeance strip thee naked! thou art cause,
Effect, quality, property; thou, thou, thou^{5 note}

. [Exit.

Wife.
Bad turn'd to worse; both beggary of the soul
And of the body;—and so much unlike
Himself at first^{6 note}


, as if some vexed spirit
Had got his form upon him^{7 note}


. He comes again.

Re-enter Husband.
He says I am the cause: I never yet
Spoke less than words of duty and of love.

Hus.

If marriage be honourable, then cuckolds are honourable, for they cannot be made without marriage. Fool! what meant I to marry to get beggars^{8 note}
? Now must my eldest son be a knave or nothing; he cannot live upon the fool, for he will have no land to maintain him. That mortgage sits like a snaffle upon mine inheritance^{9 note}

, and makes me chew upon iron. My second son must be a promoter^{1 note}, and my third a thief, or an under-putter; a slave pander. Oh beggary, beggary, to what base uses dost thou put a man^{2 note}
! I think the devil scorns to be a bawd; he bears himself more proudly, has more care of his credit^{3 note}

.—Base, slavish, abject, filthy poverty!

Wife.
Good sir, by all our vows I do beseech you,
Show me the true cause of your discontent.

Hus.

Money, money, money; and thou must supply me.

Wife.
Alas, I am the least cause of your discontent;
Yet what is mine, either in rings or jewels,
Use to your own desire; but I beseech you,
As you are a gentleman by many bloods^{4 note}
,
Though I myself be out of your respect,
Think on the state of these three lovely boys^{5 note}

Hus.

Puh! bastards, bastards^{6 note}, bastards; begot in tricks, begot in tricks.

Wife.
Heaven knows how those words wrong me: but I may
Endure these griefs among a thousand more.
O call to mind your lands already mortgag'd,
Yourself wound into debts^{7 note}

Hus.
Have done, thou harlot,
Whom though for fashion-sake I married,
I never could abide. Think'st thou, thy words
Shall kill my pleasures? Fall off to thy friends;
Thou and thy bastards beg; I will not bate
A whit in humour. Midnight, still I love you^{8 note}
,
And revel in your company! Curb'd in,
Shall it be said in all societies,
That I broke custom^{9 note}

Wife.
Be it so.

Hus.
Nay I protest (and take that for an earnest) [Spurns her.
I will for ever hold thee in contempt,
And never touch the sheets that cover thee,
But be divorc'd in bed, till thou consent
Thy dowry shall be sold, to give new life
Unto those pleasures which I most affect.

Wife.
Sir, do but turn a gentle eye on me,
And what the law shall give me leave to do,
You shall command.

Hus.
Look it be done. Shall I want dust,

And like a slave wear nothing in my pockets [Holds his hands in his pockets.
But my bare hands, to fill them up with nails?
O much against my blood^{2 note}
! Let it be done;
I was never made to be a looker on,
A bawd to dice; I'll shake the drabs myself,
And make them yield: I say, look it be done.

Wife.
I take my leave: it shall. [Exit^{3 note}.

Hus.
Speedily, speedily.
I hate the very hour I chose a wife:
A trouble, trouble! Three children, like three evils,
Hang on me. Fie, fie, fie! Strumpet and bastards! Enter three Gentlemen.
Strumpet and bastards!

1 Gent.
Still do these loathsome thoughts jar on your tongue?
Yourself to stain the honour of your wife,
Nobly descended? Those whom men call mad,
Endanger others; but he's more than mad
That wounds himself; whose own words do proclaim
Scandals unjust, to soil his better name^{4 note}.
It is not fit; I pray, forsake it.

2 Gent.
Good sir, let modesty reprove you.

3 Gent.
Let honest kindness sway so much with you.

Hus.
Good den^{5 note}

Ser.

Only to certify you, sir, that my mistress was met by the way, by them who were sent for her up to London^{6 note} by her honourable uncle, your worship's late guardian.

Hus.
So, sir, then she is gone; and so may you be;
But let her look the thing be done she wots of,
Or hell will stand more pleasant than her house
At home. [Exit Servant. Enter a Gentleman.

Gent.
Well or ill met, I care not.

Hus.
No, nor I.

Gent.
I am come with confidence to chide you.

Hus.
Who? me?
Chide me? Do't finely then; let it not move me:
For if thou chid'st me angry, I shall strike^{7 note}

.

Gent.
Strike thine own follies, for 'tis they deserve
To be well beaten. We are now in private;

There's none but thou and I. Thou art fond and peevish^{8 note};
An unclean rioter; thy lands and credit
Lie now both sick^{9 note}


of a consumption:
I am sorry for thee. That man spends with shame,
That with his riches doth consume his name;
And such art thou.

Hus.
Peace.

Gent.
No, thou shalt hear me further.
Thy father's and fore-fathers' worthy honours,
Which were our country monuments, our grace,
Follies in thee begin now to deface.
The spring-time of thy youth did fairly promise^{1 note}

Such a most fruitful summer to thy friends,
It scarce can enter into men's beliefs,
Such dearth should hang upon thee. We that see it,
Are sorry to believe it. In thy change,
This voice into all places will be hurl'd—
Thou and the devil have deceiv'd the world.

Hus.
I'll not endure thee.

Gent.
But of all the worst,
Thy virtuous wife, right honourably allied,
Thou hast proclaim'd a strumpet.

Hus.
Nay then I know thee;
Thou art her champion, thou; her private friend;

The party you wot on^{2 note}.

Gent.
O ignoble thought!
I am past my patient blood. Shall I stand idle,
And see my reputation touch'd to death^{3 note}




?

Hus.
It has gall'd you, this; has it?

Gent.
No, monster; I will prove
My thoughts did only tend to virtuous love.

Hus.
Love of her virtues? there it goes.

Gent.
Base spirit,
To lay thy hate upon the fruitful honour
Of thine own bed! [They fight, and the Husband is hurt.

Hus.
Oh!

Gent.
Wilt thou yield it yet?

Hus.
Sir, sir, I have not done with you.

Gent.
I hope, nor ne'er shall do. [They fight again.

Hus.
Have you got tricks? Are you in cunning with me?

Gent.
No, plain and right:
He needs no cunning that for truth doth fight^{4 note}
. [Husband falls down.

Hus.
Hard fortune! am I levell'd with the ground?

Gent.
Now, sir, you lie at mercy.

Hus.
Ay, you slave.

Gent.
Alas, that hate should bring us to our grave^{5 note}

Hus.
Has the dog left me then,
After his tooth has left me^{6 note}
? O, my heart
Would fain leap after him. Revenge I say;
I'm mad to be reveng'd. My strumpet wife,
It is thy quarrel that rips thus my flesh,
And makes my breast spit blood^{7 note}

;—but thou shalt bleed.
Vanquish'd? got down? unable even to speak?
Surely 'tis want of money makes men weak:
Ay, 'twas that o'erthrew me^{8 note}
: I'd ne'er been down else. [Exit.

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