at may concern my wedlock's breach,
I yield unto it; but
To pass the bounds of modesty and chastity,
Sooner[19] will I bequeath myself again
Unto this grave, and never part from hence,
Than taint my soul with black impurity.
ANS. Take here my hand and faithful heart to gage.
That I will never tempt you more to sin:
This my request is--since your husband dotes
Upon a lewd, lascivious courtesan--
Since he hath broke the bonds of your chaste bed,
And, like a murd'rer, sent you to your grave,
Do but go with me to my mother's house;
There shall you live in secret for a space,
Only to see the end of such lewd lust,
And know the difference of a chaste wife's bed,
And one whose life is in all looseness led.
MRS ART. Your mother is a virtuous matron held:
Her counsel, conference, and company
May much avail me; there a space I'll stay,
Upon condition, as you said before,
You never will move your unchaste suit more.
ANS. My faith is pawn'd. O, never had chaste wife
A husband of so lewd and unchaste life!
[_Exeunt_.
SCENE II.
_A Room in Mistress Mary's House_.
_Enter_ MISTRESS MARY, MISTRESS SPLAY, _and_ BRABO.
BRA. Mistress, I long have serv'd you, even since
These bristled hairs upon my grave-like chin
Were all unborn; when I first came to you,
These infant feathers of these ravens' wings
Were not once begun.
MRS SPLAY. No, indeed, they were not.
BRA. Now in my two moustachios for a need,
(Wanting a rope) I well could hang myself;
I prythee, mistress, for all my long service,
For all the love that I have borne thee long,
Do me this favour now, to marry me.
_Enter_ YOUNG MASTER ARTHUR.
MRS MA. Marry, come up, you blockhead! you great ass!
What! wouldst thou have me marry with a devil!
But peace, no more; here comes the silly fool,
That we so long have set our lime-twigs for;
Begone, and leave me to entangle him.
[_Exeunt_ MISTRESS SPLAY _and_ BRABO.
Y. ART. What, Mistress Mary?
MRS MA. O good Master Arthur,
Where have you been this week, this month, this year?
This year, said I? where have you been this age?
Unto a lover ev'ry minute seems
Time out of mind:
How should I think you love me,
That can endure to stay so long from me?
Y. ART. I' faith, sweetheart, I saw thee yesternight.
MRS MA. Ay, true, you did, but since you saw me not;
At twelve o'clock you parted from my house,
And now 'tis morning, and ne
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