Than fair entreats; look! here's a jewel for thee,
A pretty wanton label for thine ear;
And I would have it hang there, still to whisper
These words to thee, Thou hast my jewel with thee.
It is but earnest of a larger bounty,
When thou return'st, with praises of thy service,
Which I am confident thou wilt deserve.
Why, thou art many now besides thyself:
Thou mayst be servant, friend, and wife to him ;
A good wife is them all.

A friend can play
The wife and servant's part, and shift enough;
No less the servant can the friend and wife :
"T is all but sweet society, good counsel,
Interchang'd loves; yes, and counsel-keeping.

Frank. Not done yet?
Sus. Even now, sir.

Win. Mistress, believe my vow ; your severe eye
Were 't present to command, your bounteous hand,
Were it then by to buy or bribe my service,
Shall not make me more near or dear unto him,
Than I shall voluntary. I 'll be all your charge,
Servant, friend, wife to him.

Sus. Wilt thou ? .
Now blessings go with thee for 't; courtesies
Shall meet thee coming home.

Win. Pray you say plainly,
Mistress, are you jealous of him? if you be,
I 'll look to him that way too.

Sus. Say'st thou so?
I would thou hadst a woman's bosom now;
We have weak thoughts within us. Alas!
There's nothing so strong in us as suspicion ;
But I dare not, nay, I will not think
So hardly of my Thorney.

Win. Believe it, mistress, if I find
Any loose lubric scapes in him, I 'll watch him,
And, at my return, protest I'll show you all :
He shall hardly offend without my knowledge.

Sus. Thine own diligence is that I press,

And not the curious eye over his faults.
Farewell! if I should never see thee more,
Take it for ever.
Frank. Prithee-take that along with thee.--[Gives

his sword to WINNIFREDE.) And haste thee To the hill's top; I'll be there instantly. Sus. No haste, I prithee; slowly as thou canst

[Exit Win, Pray let him Obey me now; 't is happily' his last Service to me. My power is e'en a-going out of sight.

Frank. Why would you delay? We have no other business now but to part. Sus. And will not that, sweetheart, ask a long

time ?
Methinks it is the hardest piece of work
That e'er I took in hand.

Frank. Fy, fy! why look,
I'll make it plain and easy to you-farewell ! -

[Kisses her.
Sus. Ah, 'las! I am not half-perfect in it yet;
I must have it read o'er a hundred times;
Pray you take some pains, I confess my dulness.
Frank. What a thorn this rose grows on! Part-

ing were sweet; But what a trouble 't will be to obtain it !- (Aside. Come, again, and again, farewell !--[Kisses her.

Yet wilt return? All questions of my journey, my stay, employment, And revisitation, fully I have answered all; There's nothing now behind but-nothing.

Sus. And that nothing is more hard than any thing ; Than all the every things. This request

Frank. What is 't ?

Sus. That I may bring you through one pasture more Up to yon knot of trees; among those shadows I'll vanish from you, they shall teach me how.

ll. e. haply.

Frank. Why, 't is granted; come, walk then.

Sus. Nay, not too fast; They say, slow things have best perfection; The gentle shower wets to fertility, The churlish storm may mischief with his bounty. The baser beast take strength even from the womb; But the lord lion's whelp is feeble long. [Exeunt.

SCENE III.

A Field with a clump of Trees.

Enter Dog.
Dog. Now for an early mischief and a sudden !
The mind 's about it now ; one touch from me
Soon sets the body forward.

Enter FRANK and SUSAN.
Frank. Your request
Is out; yet will you leave me?

Sus. What! so churlishly!
You'll make me stay for ever,
Rather than part with such a sound from you.
Frank. Why, you almost anger me.—'Pray you

begone. You have no company, and 't is very early; Some hurt may betide you homewards.

Sus. Tush! I fear none: To leave you is the greatest hurt I can suffer: Besides, I expect your father and mine own, To meet me back, or overtake me with you; They began to stir when I came after you: I know they 'll not be long. Frank. So! I shall have more trouble. [The Dog

rubs against him.)-Thank you for that:'

! Thank you for that,] i. e. for the incidental mention of their parents being stirring; and thus showing him, that he has no time to lose in the execution of his murderous purpose.--GIFFORD.

Then, I'll ease all at once.--[Aside.]—'T is done

now; What I ne'er thought on.—You shall not go back. Sus. Why, shall I go along with thee? sweet

music! Frank. No, to a better place.

Sus. Any place I; I'm there at home, where thou pleasest to have me. Frank. At home! I'll leave you in your last

lodging; I must kill you.

Sus. Oh fine! you'd fright me from you.

Frank. You see I had no purpose; I'm unarm'd ; 'Tis this minute's decree, and it must be; Look, this will serve your turn. [Draws a knife.

Sus. I'll not turn from it,
If you be earnest, sir; yet you may tell me,
Wherefore you'll kill me.

Frank. Because you are a strumpet.

Sus. There's one deep wound already : a strumpet! 'T was ever further from me than the thought Of this black hour; a strumpet ?

Frank. Yes, I will prove it, And you shall confess it. You are No wife of mine; the word admits no second. I was before wedded to another; have her still. I do not lay the sin unto your charge, "T is all mine own: your marriage was my theft ; For I espoused your dowry, and I have it: I did not purpose to have added murder, The Devil did not prompt me till this minute: You might have safe return'd; now you cannot. You have dogg'd your own death. [Stabs her.

Suz. And I deserve it ; I'm glad my fate was so intelligent : ’T was some good spirit's motion. Die? oh, 't was

time! How many years might I have slept in sin, The sin of my most hatred, too, adultery!

Frank. Nay, sure 't was likely that the most was

past; For I meant never to return to you After this parting.

Sus. Why then I thank you more; You have done lovingly, leaving yourself That you would thus bestow me on another. Thou art my husband, Death, and I embrace thee With all the love I have. Forget the stain Of my unwitting sin; and then I come A crystal virgin to thee; my soul's purity Shalí, with bold wings, ascend the door of Mercy; For Innocence is ever her companion.

Frank. Not yet mortal ? I would not linger you, Or leave you a tongue to blab. [Stabs her again. Sus. Now Heaven reward you ne'er the worse for

me!
I did not think that Death had been so sweet,
Nor I so apt to love him. I could ne'er die better,
Had I staid forty years for preparation ;
For I'm in charity with all the world.'
Let me for once be thine example, Heaven;
Do to this man, as I him free forgive,
And may he better die, and better live! [Dies.
Frank. "Tis done: and I am in! once past our

height,
We scorn the deep'st abyss. This follows now,
To heal her wounds, by dressing of the weapon.'
Arms, thighs, hands, any place; we must not fail

[Wounds himself. Light scratches, giving such deep ones: the best I can To bind myself to this tree. Now's the storm, Which, if blown o'er, many fair days' may follow.

[Binds himself to a tree'; the Dog ties hin

behind, and exit. 1 This follows now,

To heal her wounds by dressing of the weapon.] The allusion to this silly superstition is vilely out of place, and shows Frank to be (what indeed the whole of his previous conduct confirms) a brutal, unfeeling villain.--GIFFORD,