Thomas Heywood. A Woman Killed with Kindness. Grief of Frankford after discovering his wife’s infidelity.
“Nic. Master, here’s her lute flung in a corner!
Frank. Her lute! Oh, God! upon this instrument
Her fingers have ran quick division,
Swifter than that which now divides our hearts.
* * * Oh, Master Cranwell!
Oft hath she made this melancholy wood
(Now mute and dumb, for her disastrous change)
Speak sweetly many a note, sound many a strain,
To her own ravishing voice, which being well strung,