Scene II A Sitting-Room in Frankford’s House
Enter Serving-Men, one with a voider and a wooden knife23 to take away; another with the salt and bread; another with the table-cloth and napkins; another with the carpet:24 Jenkin follows them with two lights.
Jenkin.
So, march in order, and retire in battle array. My master and the guests have supped already, all’s taken away: here, now spread for the serving-men in the hall. Butler, it belongs to your office.
Butler.
I know it, Jenkin. What d’ye call the gentleman that supped there to-night?
Jenkin.
Who, my master?
Butler.
No, no; Master Wendoll, he’s a daily guest: I mean the gentleman that came but this afternoon.
Jenkin.
His name’s Master Cranwell. God’s light, hark, within there, my master calls to lay more billets upon the fire. Come, come! Lord, how we that are in office here in the house are troubled! One spread the carpet in the parlour, and stand ready to snuff the lights; the rest be ready to prepare their stomachs. More lights in the hall there. Come, Nich’las.
[Exeunt all but Nicholas.
Nicholas.
I cannot eat, but had I Wendoll’s heart
I would eat that; the rogue grows impudent.
Oh, I have seen such vile notorious tricks,
Ready to make my eyes dart from my head.
I’ll tell my master, by this air I will!
Fall what may fall, I’ll tell him. Here he comes.
Enter Frankford, brushing the crumbs from his clothes with a napkin, as newly risen from supper.
Frankford.
Nicholas, what make you here? why are not you
At supper in the hall among your fellows?
Nicholas.
Master, I stayed your rising from the board,
To speak with you.
Frankford.
Be brief, then, gentle Nicholas;
My wife and guests attend me in the parlour.
Why dost thou pause? Now, Nicholas, you want money,
And, unthrift-like, would eat into your wages
Ere you have earned it: here, sir, ’s half a crown;
Play the good husband,25 and away to supper.
Nicholas.
By this hand, an honourable gentleman! I will not see him wronged.—Sir, I have served you long; you entertained me seven years before your beard.26 You knew me, sir, before you knew my mistress.
Frankford.
What of this, good Nicholas?
Nicholas.
I never was a make-bate27 or a knave;
I have no fault but one: I’m given to quarrel,
But not with women. I will tell you, master,
That which will make your heart leap from your breast,
Your hair to startle from your head, your ears to tingle.
Frankford.
What preparation’s this to dismal news?
Nicholas.
’Sblood, sir! I love you better than your wife;
I’ll make it good.
Frankford.
You are a knave, and I have much ado
With wonted patience to contain my rage,
And not to break thy pate. Thou art a knave:
I’ll turn you, with your base comparisons,
Out of my doors.
Nicholas.
Do, do: there is not room
For Wendoll and for me both in one house.
Oh master, master, that Wendoll is a villain.
Frankford.
Ay, saucy!
Nicholas.
Strike, strike; do, strike; yet hear me: I am no fool,
I know a villain, when I see him act
Deeds of a villain. Master, master, that base slave
Enjoys my mistress, and dishonours you.
Frankford.
Thou hast killed me with a weapon whose sharp point
Hath pricked quite through and through my shivering heart:
Drops of cold sweat sit dangling on my hairs,
Like morning’s dew upon the golden flowers,
And I am plunged into strange agonies.
What didst thou say? If any word that touched
His credit or her reputation,
It is as hard to enter my belief
As Dives into heaven.
Nicholas.
I can gain nothing;
They are two that never wronged me. I knew before
’Twas but a thankless office, and perhaps
As much as is my service, or my life
Is worth. All this I know; but this and more,
More by a thousand dangers, could not hire me
To smother such a heinous wrong from you.
I saw, and I have said.
Frankford.
[Aside.] ’Tis probable; though blunt, yet he is honest:
Though I durst pawn my life, and on their faith
Hazard the dear salvation of my soul,
Yet in my trust I may be too secure.
May this be true? O, may it, can it be?
Is it by any wonder possible?
Man, woman, what thing mortal may we trust,
When friends and bosom wives prove so unjust?—
[To Nicholas.] What instance hast thou of this strange report?
Nicholas.
Eyes, eyes.
Frankford.
Thy eyes may be deceived, I tell thee:
For, should an angel from the heavens drop down,
And preach this to me that thyself hast told,
He should have much ado to win belief;
In both their loves I am so confident.
Nicholas.
Shall I discourse the same by circumstance?
Frankford.
No more! to supper, and command your fellows
To attend us and the strangers. Not a word,
I charge thee on thy life: be secret then,
For I know nothing.
Nicholas.
I am dumb; and, now that I have eased my stomach,
I will go fill my stomach.
Frankford.
Away; be gone. [Exit Nicholas.
She is well born, descended nobly;
Virtuous her education, her repute
Is in the general voice of all the country
Honest and fair; her carriage, her demeanour,
In all her actions that concern the love
To me her husband, modest, chaste, and godly.
Is all this seeming gold plain copper?
But he, that Judas that hath borne my purse,
And sold me for a sin!—O God! O God!
Shall I put up these wrongs? No. Shall I trust
The bare report of this suspicious groom,
Before the double-gilt, the well-hatched ore
Of their two hearts? No, I will lose these thoughts:
Distraction I will banish from my brow,
And from my looks exile sad discontent,
Their wonted favours in my tongue shall flow;
Till I know all, I’ll nothing seem to know.
Lights and a table there! Wife, Master Wendoll,
And gentle Master Cranwell.
Enter Mistress Frankford, Wendoll, Cranwell, Nicholas, and Jenkin, with cards, carpets, stools, and other necessaries.
Frankford.
O Master Cranwell, you are a stranger here,
And often baulk my house: faith, y’are a churl:
Now we have supped, a table, and to cards.
Jenkin.
A pair of cards,28 Nicholas, and a carpet to cover the table. Where’s Cicely with her counters and her box? Candles and candlesticks there! Fie, we have such a household of serving creatures! unless it be Nick and I, there’s not one amongst them all can say bo to a goose. Well said,29 Nick.
[They spread a carpet, set down lights and cards.
Mistress Frankford.
Come, Master Frankford, who shall take my part?
Frankford.
Marry, that will I, sweet wife.
Wendoll.
No, by my faith, sir; when you are together I sit out: it must be Mistress Frankford and I, or else it is no match.
Frankford.
I do not like that match.
Nicholas.
[Aside.] You have no reason, marry, knowing all.
Frankford.
’Tis no great matter neither. Come, Master Cranwell, shall you and I take them up?
Cranwell.
At your pleasure, sir.
Frankford.
I must look to you, Master Wendoll, for you will be playing false; nay, so will my wife too.
Nicholas.
[Aside.] Ay, I will be sworn she will.
Mistress Frankford.
Let them that are taken playing false, forfeit the set.
Frankford.
Content; it shall go hard but I’ll take you.
Cranwell.
Gentlemen, what shall our game be?
Wendoll.
Master Frankford, you play best at noddy.30
Frankford.
You shall not find it so; indeed you shall not.
Mistress Frankford.
I can play at nothing so well as double ruff.
Frankford.
If Master Wendoll and my wife be together, there’s no playing against them at double hand.
Nicholas.
I can tell you, sir, the game that Master Wendoll is best at.
Wendoll.
What game is that, Nick?
Nicholas.
Marry, sir, knave out of doors.
Wendoll.
She and I will take you at lodam.
Mistress Frankford.
Husband, shall we play at saint?
Frankford.
My saint’s turned devil. No, we’ll none of saint:
You are best at new-cut, wife; you’ll play at that.
Wendoll.
If you play at new-cut, I am soonest hitter of any here, for a wager.
Frankford.
’Tis me they play on. Well, you may draw out.
For all your cunning, ’twill be to your shame;
I’ll teach you, at your new-cut, a new game.
Come, come.
Cranwell.
If you cannot agree upon the game, to post and pair.
Wendoll.
We shall be soonest pairs; and my good host,
When he comes late home, he must kiss the post.
Frankford.
Whoever wins, it shall be thy cost.
Cranwell.
Faith, let it be vide-ruff, and let’s make honours.
Frankford.
If you make honours, one thing let me crave:
Honour the king and queen; except the knave.
Wendoll.
Well, as you please for that. Lift who shall deal.
Mistress Frankford.
The least in sight: what are you, Master Wendoll?
Wendoll.
I am a knave.
Nicholas.
[Aside.] I’ll swear it.
Mistress Frankford.
I a queen.
Frankford.
[Aside.] A quean31 thou shouldst say. [Aloud.] Well, the cards are mine;
They are the grossest pair that e’er I felt.
Mistress Frankford.
Shuffle, I’ll cut: would I had never dealt.
Frankford.
I have lost my dealing.
Wendoll.
Sir, the fault’s in me:
This queen I have more than mine own, you see.
Give me the stock.
Frankford.
My mind’s not on my game.
Many a deal I have lost; the more’s your shame.
You have served me a bad trick, Master Wendoll.
Wendoll.
Sir, you must take your lot. To end this strife,
I know I have dealt better with your wife.
Frankford.
Thou hast dealt falsely, then.
Mistress Frankford.
What’s trumps?
Wendoll.
Hearts: partner, I rub.
Frankford.
[Aside.] Thou robb’st me of my soul, of her chaste love;
In thy false dealing thou hast robbed my heart.
[Aloud.] Booty you play; I like a loser stand,
Having no heart, or here or in my hand.
I will give o’er the set; I am not well.
Come, who will hold my cards?
Mistress Frankford.
Not well, sweet Master Frankford!
Alas, what ail you? ’Tis some sudden qualm.
Wendoll.
How long have you been so, Master Frankford?
Frankford.
Sir, I was lusty, and I had my health,
But I grew ill when you began to deal.
Take hence this table. Gentle Master Cranwell,
You are welcome; see your chamber at your pleasure.
I’m sorry that this meagrim takes me so,
I cannot sit and bear you company.
Jenkin, some lights, and show him to his chamber.
[Exeunt Cranwell and Jenkin.
Mistress Frankford.
A night-gown for my husband; quickly there:
It is some rheum or cold.
Wendoll.
Now, in good faith, this illness you have got
By sitting late without your gown.
Frankford.
I know it, Master Wendoll.
Go, go to bed, lest you complain like me.
Wife, prythee, wife, into my bed-chamber;
The night is raw and cold, and rheumatic:
Leave me my gown and light; I’ll walk away my fit.
Wendoll.
Sweet sir, good night.
Frankford.
Myself, good night.
[Exit Wendoll.
Mistress Frankford.
Shall I attend you, husband?
Frankford.
No, gentle wife, thou’lt catch cold in thy head;
Prythee, be gone, sweet; I’ll make haste to bed.
Mistress Frankford.
No sleep will fasten on mine eyes, you know,
Until you come.
Frankford.
Sweet Nan, I prythee go.— [Exit Mistress Frankford.
I have bethought me: get me, by degrees,
The keys of all my doors, which I will mould
In wax, and take their fair impression,
To have by them new keys. This being compassed,
At a set hour a letter shall be brought me,
And, when they think they may securely play,
They nearest are to danger. Nick, I must rely
Upon thy trust and faithful secrecy.
Nicholas.
Build on my faith.
Frankford.
To bed then, not to rest:
Care lodges in my brain, grief in my breast.
[Exeunt.