Fra. Why, she was better eaten than my child,
Better by beasts, than beastly men devoured,
They took away a life, no honor from her:
Those beasts might make a Saint of her, but these
Will make my child a devil but was she, Sir,
Your only Daughter?
Enter Gilian.
Jul. I ne'r had other (Friend.)
Gill. Where are you (man?) your business lies not here,
Your Daughters in the Pound, I have found where;
'Twill cost [you] dear, her freedom.
Fra. I'll break it down,
And free her without pay:
Horse-locks nor chains shall hold her from me.
Jul. I'll take this relief.
I now have time to speak alone with grief. [Exit.
Fra. How? my Landlord? he's Lord of my Lands
But not my Cattle: I'll have her again (Gill.)
Gill. You are not mad upon the sudden now.
Fra. No Gill. I have been mad these five hours:
I'll sell my Mill, and buy a Roring.
I'll batter down his house, and make a Stewes on't.
Gill. Will you gather up your wits a little
And hear me? the King's near by in progress,
Here I have got our supplication drawn,
And there's the way to help us.