Scene III A Room in Frankford’s House
Enter Wendoll melancholy.
Wendoll.
I am a villain if I apprehend
But such a thought: then, to attempt the deed,—
Slave, thou art damned without redemption.
I’ll drive away this passion with a song.
A song! ha, ha: a song! as if, fond man,
Thy eyes could swim in laughter, when thy soul
Lies drenched and drownèd in red tears of blood.
I’ll pray, and see if God within my heart
Plant better thoughts. Why, prayers are meditations;
And when I meditate (O God, forgive me!)
It is on her divine perfections.
I will forget her; I will arm myself
Not to entertain a thought of love to her:
And, when I come by chance into her presence,
I’ll hale these balls until my eye-strings crack,
From being pulled and drawn to look that way.
[Enter over the stage, Frankford, Mistress Frankford, and Nicholas.]17
O God! O God! with what a violence
I’m hurried to mine own destruction.
There goest thou, the most perfectest man
That ever England bred a gentleman;
And shall I wrong his bed? Thou God of thunder!
Stay in thy thoughts of vengeance and of wrath,
Thy great, almighty, and all-judging hand
From speedy execution on a villain:
A villain, and a traitor to his friend.
Enter Jenkin.
Jenkin.
Did your worship call?
Wendoll.
He doth maintain me, he allows me largely
Money to spend——
Jenkin.
By my faith, so do not you me; I cannot get a cross of you.
Wendoll.
My gelding, and my man——
Jenkin.
That’s Sorrell and I.
Wendoll.
This kindness grows of no alliance ’twixt us——
Jenkin.
Nor is my service of any great acquaintance.
Wendoll.
I never bound him to me by desert:
Of a mere stranger, a poor gentleman,
A man by whom in no kind he could gain,
He hath placed me in the height of all his thoughts,
Made me companion with the best and chiefest
In Yorkshire. He cannot eat without me,
Nor laugh without me: I am to his body
As necessary as his digestion,
And equally do make him whole or sick:
And shall I wrong this man? Base man! ingrate!
Hast thou the power straight with thy gory hands
To rip thy image from his bleeding heart?
To scratch thy name from out the holy book
Of his remembrance; and to wound his name
That holds thy name so dear? or rend his heart
To whom thy heart was knit and joined together?
And yet I must: then, Wendoll, be content;
Thus villains, when they would, cannot repent.
Jenkin.
What a strange humour is my new master in! pray God he be not mad: if he should be so, I should never have any mind to serve him in Bedlam. It may be he’s mad for missing of me.
Wendoll.
[Seeing Jenkin.] What, Jenkin, where’s your mistress?
Jenkin.
Is your worship married?
Wendoll.
Why dost thou ask?
Jenkin.
Because you are my master; and if I have a mistress, I would be glad, like a good servant, to do my duty to her.
Wendoll.
I mean Mistress Frankford.
Jenkin.
Marry, sir, her husband is riding out of town, and she went very lovingly to bring him on his way to horse.18 Do you see, sir? here she comes, and here I go.
Wendoll.
Vanish.
[Exit Jenkin.
Re-enter Mistress Frankford.
Mistress Frankford.
You are well met, sir; now, in troth, my husband,
Before he took horse, had a great desire
To speak with you: we sought about the house,
Hollaed into the fields, sent every way,
But could not meet you: therefore he enjoined me
To do unto you his most kind commends.
Nay, more; he wills you, as you prize his love,
Or hold in estimation his kind friendship,
To make bold in his absence, and command
Even as himself were present in the house:
For you must keep his table, use his servants,
And be a present Frankford in his absence.
Wendoll.
I thank him for his love.—
Give me a name, you whose infectious tongues
Are tipped with gall and poison: as you would
Think on a man that had your father slain,
Murdered your children, made your wives base strumpets,
So call me, call me so: print in my face
The most stigmatic title of a villain,
For hatching treason to so true a friend. [Aside.
Mistress Frankford.
Sir, you are much beholding19 to my husband;
You are a man most dear in his regard.
Wendoll.
[Aside.] I am bound unto your husband, and you too.
I will not speak to wrong a gentleman
Of that good estimation, my kind friend:
I will not; zounds! I will not. I may choose,
And I will choose. Shall I be so misled?
Or shall I purchase to my father’s crest
The motto of a villain? If I say
I will not do it, what thing can enforce me?
What can compel me? What sad destiny
Hath such command upon my yielding thoughts?
I will not—Ha! some fury pricks me on,
The swift Fates drag me at their chariot-wheel,
And hurry me to mischief. Speak I must;
Injure myself, wrong her, deceive his trust.
Mistress Frankford.
Are you not well, sir, that you seem thus troubled?
There is sedition in your countenance.
Wendoll.
And in my heart, fair angel, chaste and wise.
I love you: start not, speak not, answer not.
I love you: nay, let me speak the rest:
Bid me to swear, and I will call to record
The host of Heaven.
Mistress Frankford.
The host of Heaven forbid
Wendoll should hatch such a disloyal thought!
Wendoll.
Such is my fate; to this suit I was born,
To wear rich pleasure’s crown, or fortune’s scorn.
Mistress Frankford.
My husband loves you.
Wendoll.
I know it.
Mistress Frankford.
He esteems you
Even as his brain, his eye-ball, or his heart.
Wendoll.
I have tried it.
Mistress Frankford.
His purse is your exchequer, and his table
Doth freely serve you.
Wendoll.
So I have found it.
Mistress Frankford.
O! with what face of brass, what brow of steel,
Can you, unblushing, speak this to the face
Of the espoused wife of so dear a friend?
It is my husband that maintains your state;
Will you dishonour him that in your power
Hath left his whole affairs? I am his wife,
It is to me you speak.
Wendoll.
O speak no more!
For more than this I know, and have recorded
Within the red-leaved table of my heart.
Fair, and of all beloved, I was not fearful
Bluntly to give my life into your hand,
And at one hazard all my earthly means.
Go, tell your husband; he will turn me off,
And I am then undone. I care not, I;
’Twas for your sake. Perchance in rage he’ll kill me:
I care not, ’twas for you. Say I incur
The general name of villain through the world,
Of traitor to my friend; I care not, I.
Beggary, shame, death, scandal, and reproach,
For you I’ll hazard all: why, what care I?
For you I’ll live, and in your love I’ll die.
Mistress Frankford.
You move me, sir, to passion and to pity.
The love I bear my husband is as precious
As my soul’s health.
Wendoll.
I love your husband too,
And for his love I will engage my life:
Mistake me not, the augmentation
Of my sincere affection borne to you
Doth no whit lessen my regard of him.
I will be secret, lady, close as night;
And not the light of one small glorious star
Shall shine here in my forehead, to bewray
That act of night.
Mistress Frankford.
What shall I say?
My soul is wandering, and hath lost her way.
Oh, Master Wendoll! Oh!
Wendoll.
Sigh not, sweet saint;
For every sigh you breathe draws from my heart
A drop of blood.
Mistress Frankford.
I ne’er offended yet:
My fault, I fear, will in my brow be writ.
Women that fall, not quite bereft of grace,
Have their offences noted in their face.
I blush and am ashamed. Oh, Master Wendoll,
Pray God I be not born to curse your tongue,
That hath enchanted me! This maze I am in
I fear will prove the labyrinth of sin.
Re-enter Nicholas behind.
Wendoll.
The path of pleasure, and the gate to bliss,
Which on your lips I knock at with a kiss.
Nicholas.
[Aside.] I’ll kill the rogue.
Wendoll.
Your husband is from home, your bed’s no blab.
Nay, look not down and blush.
[Exeunt Wendoll and Mistress Frankford.
Nicholas.
Zounds! I’ll stab.
Ay, Nick, was it thy chance to come just in the nick?
I love my master, and I hate that slave:
I love my mistress, but these tricks I like not.
My master shall not pocket up this wrong;
I’ll eat my fingers first. What say’st thou, metal?
Does not the rascal Wendoll go on legs
That thou must cut off? Hath he not ham-strings
That thou must hough? Nay, metal, thou shalt stand
To all I say. I’ll henceforth turn a spy,
And watch them in their close conveyances.
I never looked for better of that rascal,
Since he came miching20 first into our house:
It is that Satan hath corrupted her,
For she was fair and chaste. I’ll have an eye
In all their gestures. Thus I think of them,
If they proceed as they have done before:
Wendoll’s a knave, my mistress is a—— [Exit.