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Nor how far he in's navigation went
Beyond commission: this were a fine reign,
To do ill, and not hear of it again;
Yet then were man more wretched than a beast;
For, sister, our dead pay is sure the best.
Kath. 'T is so, the best or worst; and I wish

Heaven
To pay (and so I know it will) that traitor,
That devil Somerton (who stood in mine eye
Once as an angel) home to his deservings:
What villain but himself, once loving me,
With Warbeck's soul would pawn his own to hell,
To be revenged on my poor sister!

Frank. Slaves! A pair of merciless slaves ! speak no more of

them. Kath. I think this talking hurts you.

Frank. Does me no good, I'm sure; I pay for 't everywhere.

Kath. I have done then. Eat if you cannot sleep; you have these two days Not tasted any food :-Jane, is it ready?

Frank. What's ready? what's ready? Kath. I have made ready a roasted chicken for you;

[Enter Maid with the chicken. Sweet, wilt thou eat?

Frank. A pretty stomach on a sudden, yes.There's one i' the house can play upon a lute; Good girl, let's hear him too.

Kath. You shall, dear brother. [Exit Maid. Would I were a musician, you should hear How I would feast your ear!--[Lute plays within.)

stay, mend your pillow, And raise you higher.

Frank. I am up too high, Am I not, sister, now?

Kath. No, no, 't is well. Fall to, fall to.-A knife! here's ne'er a knife. Brother, I?ll look out yours. [Takes up his vest.

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Enter Dog, shrugging as it were for joy, and dances.

Frank. Sister, O sister,
I'm ill upon a sudden, and can eat nothing.

Kath. In very deed you shall; the want of food
Makes you so faint. Ha !-[Sees the bloody knife.]—

here's none in your pocket; I will go fetch a knife.

[Exit hastily. Frank. Will you ?'t is well, all's well. FRANK searches first one pocket then the other, finds the

knife, and then lies down. The spirit of SUSAN comes to the bed's side: he starts at it, and then turns to the other side, but the spirit is there-meanwhile enter WINNIFREDE as a Page, and stands sorrowfully at the foot of the bed.—FRANK, terrified, sits up, and the spirit vanishes. Frank. What art thou ? Win. A lost creature. Frank. So am I too.-Win? Ah, my she-page!

Win. For your sake I put on
A shape that's false; yet do I wear a heart
True to you as your own.

Frank. 'Would mine and thine
Were fellows in one house !-kneel by me here.
On this side now! how durst thou come to mock me
On both sides of my bed ?

Win. When ?

Frank. But just now:
Outface me, stare upon me with strange postures;
Turn my soul wild by a face in which were drawn
A thousand ghosts leap'd newly from their graves
To pluck me into a winding-sheet !

Win. Believe it,
I came no nearer to you than yon place,
At your bed's feet; and of the house had leave,
Calling myself your horse-boy, in to come
And visit my sick master.

Frank. Then 't was my fancy; Some windmill in my brains for want of sleep. Win. Would I might never sleep, so you could

rest! But you have pluck'd a thunder on your head, Whose noise cannot cease suddenly; why should

you
Dance at the wedding of a second wife,
When scarce the music which you heard at mine
Had ta'en a farewell of you? O, this was ill!
And they who thus can give both hands away,
In th' end shall want their best limbs.

Frank. Winnifrede,-
The chamber door 's fast ?

Win. Yes.

Frank. Sit thee then down; And when thou 'st heard me speak, melt into tears: Yet I, to save those eyes of thine from weeping, Being to write a story of us two, Instead of ink, dipp'd my sad pen in blood. When of thee I took leave, I went abroad Only for pillage, as a freebooter, What gold soe'er I got, to make it thine. To please a father, I have Heaven displeased, Striving to cast two wedding-rings in one, Through my bad workmanship I now have none; I have lost her and thee.

Win. I know she's dead; But you have me still.

Frand. Nay, her this hand Murdered ; and so I lose thee too.

Win. Oh me!

Frank. Be quiet; for thou art my evidence, Jury, and judge: sit quiet, and I 'll tell all. While they are conversing in a low tone, Old CARTER

and ŘATHERINE meet at the door of the room. Kath. I have run madding up and down to find

you,

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Being laden with the heaviest news that ever
Poor daughter carried.

Car. Why? is the boy dead?

Kath. Dead, sir!
Oh, father, we are cozen'd; you are told
The murderer sings in prison, and he laughs here.
This villain kill'd my sister; see else, see,

[Takes up his vest; and shows the knife to her

father, who secures it. A bloody knife in 's pocket! Car. Bless me, patience!

[Dog paws softly at Frank, and exit. Frank. [Seeing them.] The knife! the knife! the

knife!
Kath. What knife?

Frank. To cut my chicken up, my chicken ;-
Be you my carver, father.

Car. That I will.
Kath. How the Devil steels our brows after

doing ill!
Frank. My stomach and my sight are taken from

me;
All is not well within me.

Car. I believe thee, boy: I that have seen so many moons clap their horns on other men's foreheads to strike them sick; yet mine to 'scape, and be well! I that am as sound as an honest man's conscience when he's dying, I should cry out as thou dost, “ All is not well within me,” felt I but the bag of thy imposthumes. Ah, poor villain ! ah, my wounded rascal ! all my grief is, I have now small hope of thee.

Frank. Do the surgeons say my wounds are dan

Car. Yes, yes, and there's no way with thee but one.

1 Yes, yes, and there's no way with thee but one.) A proverbial expression for an inevitable event-death. Thus Mrs. Quickly of poor Sir John-"After I saw him fumble with the sheets, and smile upon his finger-ends, I knew there was but one way,” &c. -GIFFORD.

gerous, then!

Frank. Would he were here to open them.

Car. I'll go to fetch him; I'll make a holyday to see thee as I wish.

[Exit. Frank. A wondrous kind old man.

Win. Your sin 's the blacker, So to abuse his goodness.-(Aside to FRANK.)— Master, how do you?

[Aloud. Frank. Pretty well now, boy; I have such odd

qualms Come cross my stomach :-I'll fall-to; boy, cut

meRe-enter CARTER, followed by Servants, with the body

of Susan in a coffin. What's that?

Car. That? what? oh, now I see her; 't is a young wench, my daughter, sirrah, sick to the death ; and hearing thee to be an excellent rascal for letting blood, she looks out at a casement, and cries, “Help! help! stay that man! him I must have or none." Frank. For pity's sake remove her; see, she

stares With one broad open eye still in my face!

Car. Thou puttest both hers out like a villain as thou art; yet, see! she is willing to lend thee one again, to find out the murderer, and that's thyself. Frank. Old man, thou liest. Car. So shalt thou-in the jail. Run for officers.

Kath. Oh, thou merciless slave! She was (though yet above ground) in her grave To me; but thou hast torn her up again Mine eyes, too much drown'd, now must feel more

rain. Car. Fetch officers. [Exit Kath. with Servants. Frank. For whom ?

Car. For thee, sirrah! sirrah! Some knives have foolish posies upon them, but thine has a villanous one; look !-[showing the bloody knife.)-oh, it is

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