Clare. But there are crosses,[246] wife; here's one in Waltham,
Another at the Abbey, and a third
At Cheston;[247] and it is ominous to pass
Any of these without a pater-noster.
Crosses of love still thwart this marriage,
Whilst that we two (like spirits) walk in night
About those stony and hard-hearted plots.
Mil. O God! what means my father? [Aside.
Clare. For look you, wife, the riotous old knight
Hath overrun his annual revenue,
In keeping jolly Christmas all the year:
The nostrils of his chimneys are still stuff'd
With smoke, more chargeable than cane-tobacco;
His hawks devour his fattest hogs,[248] whilst Simple,
His leanest cur, eats his hounds' carrion.
Besides, I heard of late his younger brother,
A Turkey merchant, hath sore[249] suck'd the knight,
By means of some great losses on the sea;
That (you conceive me), before God, all's naught,
His seat is weak: thus, each thing rightly scann'd,
You'll see a flight, wife, shortly of his land.
Mil. Treason to my heart's truest sovereign:
How soon is love smothered in foggy gain! [Aside.
Dor. But how shall we prevent this dangerous match?
Clare. I have a plot, a trick; and this it is.
Under this colour I'll break off the match—
I'll tell the knight, that now my mind is chang'd
For marrying of my daughter; for I intend
To send her unto Cheston nunnery.[250]
Mil. O me accurs'd! [Aside.
Clare. There to become a most religious nun.
Mil. I'll first be buried quick. [Aside.
Clare. To spend her beauty in most private prayers.