A Yorkshire Tragedy.
be drunke in it, they cal it knighting in London, when
they drinke vpon their knees.
they drinke vpon their knees.
Amb. Faith that's excellent.
Come follow me, Ile giue you all the degrees of it in order.
Exeunt.
Come follow me, Ile giue you all the degrees of it in order.
Exeunt.
Enter Wife.
Wife. What will become of vs? all will away,
My husband neuer ceasses in expence,
Both to consume his credite and his house.
And tis set downe by heauens iust decree,
That Ryots childe must needs be beggery.
Are these the vertues that his youth did promise?
Dice and voluptuous meetings, midnight Reuels,
Taking his bed with surfets. Ill beseeming
The ancient honour of his house and name:
And this not all, but that which kils me most,
When he recounts his losses and false fortunes,
The weaknesse of his state so much deiected,
Not as a man repentant, but halfe mad,
His fortunes cannot answere his expence:
He sits and sullenly lockes vp his armes,
Forgetting heauen, looks downward, which makes
Him appeare so dreadfull, that he frights my heart:
Walkes heauily, as if his soule were earth;
Not penitent for those his sins are past,
But vext, his money cannot make them last:
A fearefull melancholy, vngodly sorrow.
Oh yonder he comes,now in despight of ils
Ile speake to him, and I will heare him speake,
And do my best to driue it from his heart.
My husband neuer ceasses in expence,
Both to consume his credite and his house.
And tis set downe by heauens iust decree,
That Ryots childe must needs be beggery.
Are these the vertues that his youth did promise?
Dice and voluptuous meetings, midnight Reuels,
Taking his bed with surfets. Ill beseeming
The ancient honour of his house and name:
And this not all, but that which kils me most,
When he recounts his losses and false fortunes,
The weaknesse of his state so much deiected,
Not as a man repentant, but halfe mad,
His fortunes cannot answere his expence:
He sits and sullenly lockes vp his armes,
Forgetting heauen, looks downward, which makes
Him appeare so dreadfull, that he frights my heart:
Walkes heauily, as if his soule were earth;
Not penitent for those his sins are past,
But vext, his money cannot make them last:
A fearefull melancholy, vngodly sorrow.
Oh yonder he comes,now in despight of ils
Ile speake to him, and I will heare him speake,
And do my best to driue it from his heart.
Enter
