صور الصفحة
PDF
النشر الإلكتروني

You must be then kept up close, and well watch'd!
For, give you opportunity, no quick-sand
Devours or swallows swifter! He that lends
His wife, if she be fair, or time, or place,
Compels her to be false. I will not go.

The dangers are too many. I am resolv'd for that.
Carry in my cloak again. Yet, stay. Yet do, too.
I will defer going on all occasions.

Cash. Sir, Snare, your scrivener, will be there with the bonds.

Kite. That's true! fool on me! I had clean forgot it! I must go. What's o'clock ?

Cash. Exchange time, sir.

Kite. 'Heart, then will Well-bred presently be here

too,

With one or other of his loose consorts.

I am a knave, if I know what to say,
What course to take, or which way to resolve.
My brain, methinks, is like an hour-glass,
Wherein my imagination runs, like sands,
Filling up time; but then are turn'd and turn'd;
So that I know not what to stay upon,
And less to put in act. It shall be so.
Nay, I dare build upon his secrecy,

He knows not to deceive me.

Cash. Sir.

Thomas I

Kite. Yet now, I have bethought too, I will notThomas, is Cob within ?

Cash. I think he be, sir.

Kite. But he'll prate too, there's no speech of him.

F

No, there were no man o' the earth to Thomas,
If I durst trust him; there is all the doubt.
But should he have a chink in him; I were gone,
Lost i' my fame for ever: talk for th' exchange.
The manner he hath stood with, 'till this present,
Doth promise no such change! What should I fear

then

Well, come what will, I'll tempt my fortune once.
Thomas-you may deceive me, but I hope-
Your love to me is more-

Cash. Sir, if a servant's

Duty, with faith, may be call'd love, you are
More than in hope, you are possess'd of it.

Kite. I thank you heartily, Thomas; gi' me your

hand.

With all my heart, good Thomas. I have, Thomas,
A secret to impart to you-but

When once you have it, I must seal your lips up.
So far I tell you, Thomas.

Cash. Sir, for that—

Kite. Nay, hear me out. Think, I esteem you, Thomas,

When I will let you in, thus to my private.

It is a thing sits nearer to my crest,

Than thou art aware of, Thomas. If thou should'st Reveal it, but

Cash. How! I reveal it!

Kite. Nay,

I do not think thou would'st; but if thou should'st, 'Twere a great weakness.

Cash. A great treachery.

Give it no other name.

Kite. Thou wilt not do't then?

Cash. Sir, if I do, mankind disclaim me ever.
Kite. He will not swear; he has some reservation,
Some conceal'd purpose, and close meaning, sure,
Else, being urg'd so much, how should he choose,
But lend an oath to all this protestation ?
He's no fanatic, I have heard him swear.
What should I think of it? Urge him again,
And by some other way? I will do so.

Well, Thomas, thou hast sworn not to disclose;
Yes, you did swear?

Cash. Not yet, sir, but I will,

Please you

Kite. No, Thomas, I dare take thy word,
But if thou wilt swear, do, as thou think'st good;
I am resolv'd without it at thy pleasure.

Cash. By my soul's safety then, sir, I protest My tongue shall ne'er take knowledge of a word, Deliver'd me in nature of your trust.

Kite. It's too much, these ceremonies need not; I know thy faith to be as firm as rock. Thomas, come hither, near; we cannot be Too private in this business. So it is. (Now he has sworn, I dare the safelier venture) I have of late, by divers observationsBut whether his oath can bind him, there it is. I will bethink me ere I do proceed.

Thomas, it will be now too long to stay,

I'll spy some fitter time soon, or to-morrow.
Cash. Sir, at your pleasure ?

Kite. I will think. Give me my cloak. And, Thomas,

I pray you search the books 'gainst my return,
For the receipts 'twixt me and Traps.

Cash. I will, sir.

Kite. And, hear you, if your mistress's brother, Well-bred,

Chance to bring hither any gentlemen,

Ere I come back, let one straight bring me word.
Cash. Very well, sir.

Kite. To the Exchange; do you hear?

Or here in Coleman-Street, to Justice Clement's.
Forget it not, nor be out of the way.

Cash. I will not, sir.

Kite. I pray you have a care on't.

Or whether he come or no, if any other
Stranger, or else, fail not to send me word.

Cash. I shall not, sir.

Kite. Be't your special business

Now to remember it.

Cash. Sir, I warrant you.

Kite. But, Thomas, this is not the secret, Thomas,

I told you of.

Cash. No, sir, I do suppose it.

Kite. Believe me, it is not.

Cash. Sir, I do believe you.

Kite. By Heaven! it is not; that's enough. But,

Thomas,

I would not you should utter it, do you see,
To any creature living; yet I care not.

Well, I must hence. Thomas, conceive thus much; It was a trial of you, when I meant

So deep a secret to you: I mean not this,

But that I have to tell you. This is nothing, this.
But, Thomas, keep this from my wife, I charge you.
Lock'd up in silence, midnight, buried here,
No greater hell than to be slave to fear.

[Exit. Cash. Lock'd up in silence, midnight, buried here. Whence should this flood of passion, trow, take head? ha!

Best dream no longer of this running humour,
For fear I sink! the violence of the stream
Already hath transported me so far,

That I can feel no ground at all! But soft,
Here is company: now must I

[Exit.

Enter WELL-BRED, EDW. KNO'WELL, BRAINWORM, BOBADIL, STEPHEN.

Well. Beshrew me, but it was an absolute good jest, and exceedingly well carried.

E. Kno. Ay, and our ignorance maintained it as well, did it not?

Well. Yes, faith but was't possible thou should'st not know him? I forgive Mr. Stephen, for he is stupidity itself.

E. Kno. 'Fore heav'n, not I. "He had so written himself into the habit of one of your poor infantry,

« السابقةمتابعة »