University of Virginia Library

SCEN. VII.

Sir Frederick is brought in upon a Bier, with a mourning Cloth over him, attended by a Gentleman in a mourning Cloak: Four Fidlers carry the Corps, with their Instruments tuck'd under their Cloaks.
Enter the Widow weeping.
Mourner.
Madam, you must expect a bloody consequence
When men of such prodigious courage fight.
The young Lord Beaufort was the first that fell,
After his Sword too deeply had engag'd
His Rival not to stay behind him long.
Sir Frederick with your Nephew bravely fought;
Death long did keep his distance, as if he
Had fear'd excess of Valour; but when they,
Oreloaded with their wounds, began to faint,
He with his terrours did invade their breasts.
Fame soon brought many to the Tragick place,
Where I found my dearest Friend, Sir Fred'rick,
Almost as poor in breath as blood:
He took me by the hand, and all the stock h'ad left
He spent, Madam, in calling upon you.
He first proclaim'd your Virtues, then his Love;
And having charg'd me to convey his Corps hither
To wait on you, his latest breath expir'd with
The Command.

Wid.
The World's too poor to recompense this loss.
Unhappy woman! why shou'd I survive
The only man in whom my joys did live?
My dreadful grief!

[The Fidlers prepare.
Enter Dufoy in his Tub.
Dufoy.
Oh my Matré, my Matré; who has kill my
Matré? Morbleu, I vil—
[The Widow shrieks, and runs out: All the Fidlers run out in a fright.
Oh, de diablé, de diable!

[Sir Frederick starts up, which frights Dufoy.
Sir Fred.
What devilish accident is
This? or has the Widow undermin'd me?

Enter the Widow and her Maid laughing.
Sir Fred.
I shall be laugh'd to death now indeed,
By Chamber-maids; why have you no
Pity, Widow?

Wid.
None at all for the living; Ha, ha, ha.
You see w'are provided for your Frollick, Sir; ha, ha.

Sir Fred.
Laugh but one minute longer I will foreswear
Thy company, kill thy Tabby Cat, and make thee weep
For ever after.

Wid.
Farewell, Sir; expect at night to see the old
Man, with his paper Lanthorn and crack'd
Spectacles, singing your woful Tragedy
To Kitchin-maids and Coblers Prentices.

[Widow offers to go, Sir Frederick holds her by the arm.
Sir Fred.
Hark you, hark you, Widow:
By all those Devils that have
Hitherto possess'd thy Sex—

Wid.
No swearing, good Sir Fred'rick.

Sir Fred.
Set thy face then; let me not see the remains
Of one poor smile: So, now I will kiss thee,
And be friends.
[Widow falls out a laughing.
Not all thy wealth shall hire me to
Come within smell of thy breath again.
Jealousie, and, which will be worse for thee, Widow, Impotence
Light upon me, if I stay one moment longer with thee.

[Offers to go.
Wid.
Do you hear, Sir; can you be so angry with one
That loves you so passionately she cannot survive
You?

Sir Fred.
Widow, May the desire of man keep thee
Waking till thou art as mad as I am.
[Exit Sir Frederick.

Wid.
How lucky was this accident!
How he wou'd have insulted
Over my weakness else!
Sir Frederick, since I've warning, you shall prove
More subtill ways, before I owne my Love.

[Exeunt.