Beaumont and Fletcher's Works, Vol. 06 of 10Fletcher, John
General
Beaumont and Fletcher's Works, Vol. 06 of 10
Fletcher, John
English drama
Merch. _Sir that I have wronged your love, I must confess, in
which I have purchast to my self, besides mine own undoing,
the ill opinion of my friends, let not your anger, good_
_Sir, outlive me, but suffer me to rest in peace with your
forgiveness; let my body (if a dying man may so much prevail
with you) be brought to your daughter, that she may [truely]
know my hot flames are now buried, and withall, receive a
testimony of the zeal I bore her virtue: farewell for ever,
and be ever happy._
_Jasper._
Gods hand is great in this, I do forgive him,
Yet am I glad he's quiet, where I hope
He will not bite again: boy bring the bo[d]y,
And let him have his will, if that be all.
_Boy._ 'Tis here without Sir.
_Mer._ So Sir, if you please
You may conduct it in, I do not fear it.
_Hum._ I'll be your Usher boy, for though I say it,
He ow'd me something once, and well did pay it. [_Exeunt._
_Enter_ Luce _alone_.
_Luce._ If there be any punishment inflicted
Upon the miserable, more than yet I feell,
Let it together seize me, and at once
Press down my soul, I cannot bear the pain
Of these delaying tortures: thou that art
The end of all, and the sweet rest of all;
Come, come oh death bring me to thy peace,
And blot out all the memory I nourish
Both of [my] father and my cruel friend.
O wretch'd maid still living to be wretched,
To be a say to fortune in her changes,
And grow to number times and woes together,
How happy had I been, if being born
My grave had been my cradle! [_Enter servant._
_Ser._ By your leave
Young Mistris, here's a boy hath brought a Coffin,
What a would say I know not: but your father
Charg'd me to give you notice, here they come.
_Enter two bearing a Coffin_, Jasper _in it_.
_Luce._ For me I hope 'tis come, and 'tis most welcome.
_Boy._ Fair Mistriss, let me not add greater grief
To that great store you have already; _Jasper_
That whilst he liv'd was yours, now dead,
And here inclos'd, commanded me to bring
His body hither, and to crave a tear
From those fair eyes, though he deserve not pitty,
To deck his Funeral; for so he bid me
Tell her for whom he di'd.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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