A Yorkshire Tragedy.
The cause of my setting foorth, was pittious & lamentable;
that hopefull young gentleman your brother,
whose vertues we all loue deerely, through your
default and vnnaturall negligence, lies in bond executed
for your debt, a prisoner, all his studies amazed,
his hope strook dead, and the pride of his youth muffled
in these darke clouds of oppression.
that hopefull young gentleman your brother,
whose vertues we all loue deerely, through your
default and vnnaturall negligence, lies in bond executed
for your debt, a prisoner, all his studies amazed,
his hope strook dead, and the pride of his youth muffled
in these darke clouds of oppression.
Hus. Hum, hum, hum.
Maist. Oh you haue kild the towardest hope of all
our Vniuersity, wherefore without repentance and amends,
expect pandorus and suddaine iudgements to
fall grieuously vpon you; your brother, a man who
profited in his diuine Imployments, and might haue
made ten thousand soules fit for heauen, now by your
carelesse courses cast in prison, which you must answere
for, and assure your spirit it will come home at length.
our Vniuersity, wherefore without repentance and amends,
expect pandorus and suddaine iudgements to
fall grieuously vpon you; your brother, a man who
profited in his diuine Imployments, and might haue
made ten thousand soules fit for heauen, now by your
carelesse courses cast in prison, which you must answere
for, and assure your spirit it will come home at length.
Hus. Oh God, oh.
Ma. Wise men thinke ill of you, others speake ill of
you, no man loues you, nay, euen those whom honesty
condemnes, condemne you: and take this from
the vertuous affection I beare your brother, neuer
looke for prosperous houre, good thought, quiet
sleepes, contented walkes, nor any thing that makes
man perfect, til you redeeme him: What is your answer,
how will you bestow him? vpon desperate misery,
or better hopes? I suffer till I heare your answere.
you, no man loues you, nay, euen those whom honesty
condemnes, condemne you: and take this from
the vertuous affection I beare your brother, neuer
looke for prosperous houre, good thought, quiet
sleepes, contented walkes, nor any thing that makes
man perfect, til you redeeme him: What is your answer,
how will you bestow him? vpon desperate misery,
or better hopes? I suffer till I heare your answere.
Hus. Sir, you haue much wrought with me, I feele
you in my soule, you are your artes master.
I neuer had sence til now; your sillables haue cleft me
Both for your words and pains I thanke you: I cannot
you in my soule, you are your artes master.
I neuer had sence til now; your sillables haue cleft me
Both for your words and pains I thanke you: I cannot
but
