Page:Works of Sir John Suckling.djvu/315

] Fran. Swell on, my griefs; and O, ye gentler tears,

Drop still, and never cease to fall till you

Become a boundless ocean, then drown

The source that sent you out,

And hide Francelia from her husband's sight,

Her wronged husband's!

O, could my Florelio but see

How all hot flames within me are gone forth,

Sure he would love again! Yet sure he would not!

Heavens,

How just you are, and, O, how wicked I am!

My heart beats thick,

As if my end were nigh; and would it were!

A better time death cannot take.

An absolution I have had, and have confest

My unchaste love unto my ghostly father.

My peace is made above; but here below?—

What mak'st thou here, Petruchio?

Clar. [aside]. She weeps: the whore repents perchance. [Aloud] Madam,

It is my master's pleasure that this night

You keep your chamber.

Fran. Thy voice and countenance are not the same;

They tell me that thy master is displeas'd.

Clar. Madam, it may be so; but that to me

Is as unknown as is the new-found world.

I am his servant, and obey commands.

Fran. And so am I. I pr'ythee tell him so;

I will not stir.

Clar. How cunning is the devil in a woman's shape!

He had almost again persuaded me

To have become her brother.

Ser. Petruchio,

The favourite is lighted at the door,

And asks to see my lady.

Clar. My lady is retired: where is he?

This to my heart's desire falls out.