Vio. She has hurt my arm; I am afraid she is a very angry woman, but bless him heaven that did me the most wrong, I am afraid Antonio's wife should see me, she will know me.
Mother within. Melvia.
Vio. I am coming, she's not angry agen I hope. [Exit.
Enter Mercury.
Mer. Now what am I the better for enjoying
This woman that I [lov'd so? all] I find,
That I before imagined to be happy:
Now I have done, it turns to nothing else
But a poor pitied, and a base repentance,
Udsfoot, I am monstrous angry with my self:
Why should a man that has discourse and reason,
And knows how near he loses all in these things,
Covet to have his wishes satisfied;
Which when they are, are nothing but the shame
I do begin to loath this woman strangely,
And I think justly too, that durst adventure,
Flinging away her modesty to take
A stranger to her bed, her Husbands body
Being scarce cold in the earth for her content,
It was no more to take my senses with
Than if I had an idle dream in sleep
Yet I have made her promises: which grieves me,
And I must keep 'em too, I think she hunts me:
The devil cannot keep these women off,
When they are fletched once.
Enter Wife in night attire.
Wife. To bed for gods sake Sir, why do you stay here?
Some are up i'th' house, I heard the wife,
Good dear sweet-heart to bed.
Mer. Why, I am going! why do you follow me?
You would not have it known I hope, pray get you
Back to your chamber, the doors hard by for me,
Let me alone, I warrant you this it is
To thresh well, I have got a customer,
Will you go to bed?
Wife. Will you?
Mer. Yes, I am going.
Wife. Then remember your promise you made to marry me.
Mer. I will, but it was your fault, that it came
To this pinch now, that it must need remembrance:
For out of honesty I offer'd you
To marry you first, why did you slack that offer?
Wife. Alas I told you the inconvenience of it,
And what wrong it would appear to the world
If I had married [you] in such post-haste
After his death: beside, the foolish people
Would have been bold to have thought we had lain together
in his time, and like enough imagin'd
We two had murther'd him.
Mer. I love her tongue yet,
If I were a Saint
A gilded Saint, and such a thing as this
Should prate thus wittily and feelingly
Unto my Holiness, I cannot tell,
But I fear shrewdly I should do something
That would quite scratch me out o'th' Kalender,
And if I stay longer talking with her,
Though I am mad at what I have done already,
Yet I shall forget my self again;
I feel the Devil
Ready to hold my stirrop; pray to bed, good night.
Wife. This kiss, good night sweet Love,
And peace goe with thee: thou hast prov'd thy self
The honestest man that ever was entic'd
To that sweet sin as people please to call it,
Of lying with anothers wife, and I,
I think the honestest woman without blushing,
That ever lay with another man, I sent my Husband
Into a Cellar, post, fearing, and justly
He should have known him, which I did not purpose
Till I had had my end.
Well, now this plot is perfect, let him brag on't. [Exit.
Actus Quintus. Scæna Prima.
Enter Justice and Curio with a Paper.