1 GENTLEMAN.
Your fathers sorrows are alive in me:
What made you shew such monstrous cruelty?
HUSBAND. In a word, Sir, I have consumd all, played away long acre, and I thought it the charitablest deed I could do to cussen beggery and knock my house oth head.
KNIGHT.
Oh, in a cooler blood you will repent it.
HUSBAND.
I repent now, that ones left unkild,
My brat at nurse. Oh, I would full fain have weand him.
KNIGHT.
Well, I do not think but in to morrows judgement,
The terror will sit closer to your soul,
When the dread thought of death remembers you;
To further which, take this sad voice from me:
Never was act played more unnaturally.
HUSBAND.
Thank you, Sir.
KNIGHT.
Go, lead him to the Jail:
Where justice claims all, there must pity fail.
HUSBAND.
Come, come, away with me.
[Exit prisoner.]
MASTER.
Sir, you deserve the worship of your place.
Would all did so: in you the law is grace.