 | Beggars Bush |  |
Scæna quarta.
Enter Floriz. and Bertha.Ber.
Indeed yae'r welcom: I have hard your scape,
And therefore give her leave, that onely loves you;
(Truely and dearely loves ye) give her joy leave,
To bid ye welcom: what'ist makes you sad man?
Why do you looke so wilde? is't I offend ye?
Be shrew my heart, not willingly.
Flo.
No Jertred.
Ber.
Is't the delay of that ye' long have look'd for,
A happy marriage? now I come to urge it:
Now when ye please to finish it.
Flo.
No newes yet?
Ber.
Do you heare Sir?
Flo.
Yes.
Ber.
Do you love me?
Flo.
Have I liv'd,
In all the happinesse fortune could seat me,
In all mens faire opinions?
Ber.
I have provided
A Priest, that's ready for us.
Flo.
And can the Divell,
In one ten dayes, that Divell chance devour me?
Ber.
Wee'le fly to what place you please.
Flo.
No star prosperous?
All at a swoope?
Ber.
You do not love me Goswin?
You will not looke upon me?
Flo.
Can mens prayers
Shot up to heaven, with such a zeale as mine are,
Fall back like lazy mists, and never prosper?
Geyves, I must weare, and cold must be my comfort;
Darknesse, and want of meat; alas she weepes too,
Which is the top of all my sorrowes, Jertred.
Ber.
No, no, you will not know me; my poore beauty,
Which has been worth your eyes.
Flo.
The time growes on still:
And like a tumbling wave, I see my ruine,
Come rolling over me.
Ber.
Yet will ye know me?
Flo.
For a hundred thousand crownes.
Ber.
Yet will ye love me?
Tell me but how I have deserv'd your slighting.
Flo.
For a hundred thousand crownes?
Ber.
Farewell dissembler.
Flo.
Of which I have scarce ten: ô how it starts me.
Ber.
And may the next you love, hearing my ruine.
Flo.
I had forgot my selfe, ô my best Gertred,
Crowne of my joyes, and comforts.
Ber.
sweet what ayle ye?
I thought you had been vext with me.
Flo.
My minde wench,
My minde o're flow'd with sorrow, sunck my memory.
Ber.
Am I not worthy of the knowledge of it?
And cannot I as well affect your sorrowes,
As your delights? you love no other woman?
Flo.
No I protest.
Ber.
You have no ships lost lately?
Flo.
None that I know of.
Ber.
I hope you have spilt no blood: whose innocence
May lay this on your conscience.
Flo.
Cleare, by heaven.
Ber.
Why should you be thus then?
Flo.
Good Jertred, aske not,
Ev'n By the love you beare me.
Ber.
I am obedient.
Flo.
Go in my faire; I will not be long from ye,
Nor long I feare me with thee, At my returne
Despise me as you please.
Ber.
The good gods guide ye.
Exit.
Flo.
Now for my selfe which is the least I hope for,
And when that failes, for mans worst fortune, pitty.
Exit.
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