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your bow-ings. I was glad to put them off with one of my dog-tricks, on a sudden; I am bewitched, little cost-me-naught, to love thee,-out on’t,--that morris makes me spit in thy mouth.- I dare not stay; farewell, ningle; farewell witch! (Exit.
Dog. Bow, wow, wow, wow.
Saw. Mind him not, he's not worth thy worrying; Run at a fairer game; that foul-mouth'd knight, Scurvy Sir Arthur, fly at him, my Tommy, And pluck out 's throat. Dog. No, there's a dog already biting,-his con
science. Saw. That's a sure bloodhound. Come let's home
and play ; Our black work ended, we'll make holyday.
A Bedroom in CARTER's House.-FRANK in a slumber.
Enter KATHERINE. Kath. Brother, brother! so sound asleep? that's
well. Frank. [Waking.] No, not I, sister; he that's
Kath. My good sweet brother (For now my sister must grow up in you), Though her loss strikes you through, and that I
feel The blow as deep, I pray thee be not cruel To kill me too, by seeing you cast away In your own helpless sorrow. Good love, sit up; And if you can give physic to yourself, I shall be well.
Frank. I'll do my best.
Kath. I thank you:
Frank. Nothing, nothing;
Kath. Dear heart, what?
Kath. Why do you talk so ? . Would you were fast asleep.
Frank. No, no; I am not idle.' But here's my meaning; being robb'd as I am, Why should my soul, which married was to hers, Live in divorce, and not fly after her ? Why-should not I walk hand in hand with Death , To find my love out?
Kath. That were well, indeed, Your time being come ; when Death is sent to call
you, No doubt you shall meet her.
Frank. Why should not I
Kath. Yes, brother, so you might;
Frank. "Troth, sister, thou say'st true;
I No, no, I am not idle,) i. e. wandering. He judges from Katherine's speech that she suspects him, as indeed she does, of being light-headed. -GIFFOR)).
Nor how far he in's navigation went
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.
Enter Dog, shrugging as it were for joy, and dances.
Frank. Sister, O sister,
Kath. În 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 there 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?
Win. For your sake I put on
Frank. 'Would mine and thine
Frank. But just now:
Win. Believe it,
Frank. Then 't was my fancy; Some windmill in my brains for want of sleep. Win. Would I might never sleep, so you could
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?
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.
Frank. 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