[Enter Husband.]
HUSBAND.
Now, are you come? where’s the money? let’s see the money.
Is the rubbish sold, those wiseakers your lands? why, when?
the money! where ist? powr’t down, down with it, down with it:
I say powr’t oth ground! lets see’t, lets see’t.
WIFE.
Good sir, keep but in patience and I hope
My words shall like you well: I bring you better
Comfort then the sale of my Dowrie.
HUSBAND.
Ha, whats that?
WIFE. Pray, do not fright me, sir, but vouchsafe me hearing: my Uncle, glad of your kindness to me and mild usage—for so I made it to him—has in pity of your declining fortunes, provided a place for you at Court of worth and credit, which so much overjoyed me—
HUSBAND. Out on thee, filth! over and over-joyed, [spurns her] when I’m in torments? Thou pollitick whore, subtiller then nine Devils, was this thy journey to Nuncke, to set down the history of me, of my state and fortunes? Shall I that Dedicated my self to pleasure, be now confind in service to crouch and stand like an old man ith hams, my hat off? I that never could abide to uncover my head ith Church? base slut! this fruit bears thy complaints.
WIFE.
Oh, heaven knows
That my complaints were praises, and best words
Of you and your estate: only my friends
Knew of our mortgaged Lands, and were possest
Of every accident before I came.
If thou suspect it but a plot in me
To keep my dowrie, or for mine own good
Or my poor childrens: (though it suits a mother
To show a natural care in their reliefs)
Yet I’ll forget my self to calm your blood:
Consume it, as your pleasure counsels you,
And all I wish e’en Clemency affords:
Give me but comely looks and modest words.
HUSBAND.
Money, hore, money, or I’ll—
[Draws his dagger.]
[Enters a servant very hastily.]