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Frank. Why should not I Go without calling?
Kath. Yes, brother, so you might; Were there no place to go to when you're gone, But only this.
Frank. 'Troth, sister, thou say'st true; For when a man has been an hundred years Hard travelling o'er the tottering bridge of age, He's not the thousandth part upon his way: All life is but a wandering to find home; When we are gone, we're there. Happy were man, Could here his voyage end; he should not then Answer, how well or ill he steer'd his soul, By heaven's or by hell's compass; how he put in (Losing bless'd goodness' shore) at such a sin; Nor how life's dear provision he has spent, Nor how far he in's navigation went Beyond commission: this were a fine reign, To do ill, and not hear of it again; Yet then were man more wretched than a beast; For, sister, our dead pay is sure the best. . Kath. 'Tis so, the best or worst; and I wish
Heaven To pay (and so I know it will) that traitor, That devil Somerton (who stood in mine eye Once as an angel) home to his deservings: What villain but himself, once loving me, With Warbeck's soul would pawn his own to hell, To be revenged on my poor sister! .
Frank. Slaves! A pair of merciless slaves! speak no more of them. Kath. I think this talking hurts you.
Frank. Does me no good, I'm sure; I pay for't
Frank. What's ready? what's ready?
you; [Enter Maid with the chicken. Sweet, wilt thou eat?
Frank. A pretty stomach on a sudden, yes.There's one i'th' house can play upon a lute; Good girl, let's hear him too.
Kath. You shall, dear brother. [Exit Maid. Would I were a musician, you should hear How I would feast your ear!—[Lute plays within.)
-stay, mend your pillow, And raise you higher.
Frank. I am up too high, Am I not sister, now?
Kath. No, no; 'tis well. Fall to, fall to.-A knife! here's ne'er a knife. Brother, I'll look out your's. [Takes up his vest.
Enter Dog, shrugging as it were for joy, and
dances. Frank. Sister, O sister, I'm ill upon a sudden, and can eat nothing.
Kath. In very deed you shall; the want of food
Makes you so faint. Ha!--[Sees the bloody knife.] --here's none in your pocket;
; I will go fetch a knife.
[Exit hastily. Frank. Will you?—'tis well, all's well.
Frank searches first one pocket then the other, finds
the knife, and then lies down.—The spirit of SUSAN comes to the bed's side: he starts at it, and then turns to the other side, but the spirit is theremeanwhile enter WINNIFREDE As a page, and stands sorrowfully at the foot of the bed.-FRANK terrified, sits up, and the spirit vanishes.
Frank. What art thou?
Frank. So am I too.-Win?
Win. For your sake I put on
Frank. 'Would mine and thine
me On both sides of my bed?
Frank. But just now: Outface me, stare upon me with strange postures; Turn my soul wild by a face in which were drawn A thousand ghosts leapt newly from their graves, To pluck me into a winding sheet!
Win. Believe it, I came no nearer to you than yon place, At your bed's feet; and of the house had leave, Calling myself your horse-boy, in to come And visit my sick master.
Frank. Then 'twas my fancy; Some windmill in my brains for want of sleep. Win. Would I might never sleep, so you could
rest! But you have pluck'd a thunder on your head, Whose noise cannot cease suddenly; why should
you Dance at the wedding of a second wife, When scarce the music which you heard at mine Had ta'en a farewell of you? O, this was ill! And they who thus can give both hands away, In th' end shall want their best limbs.
Frank. Winnifrede,The chamber door's fast?
Frank. Sit thee then down;
Through my bad workmanship I now have none; I have lost her and thee.
Win. I know she's dead; But you have me still.
Frank. Nay, her this hand Murdered; and so I lose thee too.
Win. Oh me!
Frank. Be quiet; for thou art my evidence, Jury and judge: sit quiet, and I'll tell all. While they are conversing in a low tone, Old CarTER and KATHERINE meet at the door of the room. Kath. I have run madding up and down to find
you, Being laden with the heaviest news that ever Poor daughter carried.
Car. Why? is the boy dead?
Kath. Dead, sir! Oh, father, we are cozen'd; you are told The murderer sings in prison, and he laughs here. This villain kill'd my sister; see else, see,
[Takes up his vest; and shows the knife
to her father, who secures it. A bloody knife in's pocket! Car. Bless me, patience!
[Dog paws softly at FRANK, and exit. Frank. [Seeing them.] The knife! the knife! the
knife! Kath. What knife?
Frank. To cut my chicken up, my chicken ;-Be
you my carver, father.