Frankford. Thou hast dealt falsely, then. Mistress Frankford. What’s trumps? Wendoll. Hearts: partner, I rub. Frankford. [_Aside_.] Thou robb’st me of my soul, of her chaste love; In thy false dealing thou hast robbed my heart. [_Aloud_.] Booty you play; I like a loser stand, Having no heart, or here or in my hand. I will give o’er the set; I am not well. Come, who will hold my cards? Mistress Frankford. Not well, sweet Master Frankford! Alas, what ail you? ’Tis some sudden qualm. Wendoll. How long have you been so, Master Frankford? Frankford. Sir, I was lusty, and I had my health, But I grew ill when you began to deal. Take hence this table. Gentle Master Cranwell, You are welcome; see your chamber at your pleasure. I’m sorry that this meagrim takes me so, I cannot sit and bear you company. Jenkin, some lights, and show him to his chamber. [_Exeunt_ Cranwell _and_ Jenkin. Mistress Frankford. A night-gown for my husband; quickly there: It is some rheum or cold. Wendoll. Now, in good faith, this illness you have got By sitting late without your gown. Frankford. I know it, Master Wendoll. Go, go to bed, lest you complain like me. Wife, prythee, wife, into my bed-chamber; The night is raw and cold, and rheumatic: Leave me my gown and light; I’ll walk away my fit. Wendoll. Sweet sir, good night. Frankford. Myself, good night. [_Exit_ Wendoll. Mistress Frankford. Shall I attend you, husband? Frankford. No, gentle wife, thou’lt catch cold in thy head; Prythee, be gone, sweet; I’ll make haste to bed. Mistress Frankford. No sleep will fasten on mine eyes, you know, Until you come. Frankford. Sweet Nan, I prythee go.-- [_Exit_ Mistress Frankford. I have bethought me: get me, by degrees, The keys of all my doors, which I will mould In wax, and take their fair impression, To have by them new keys. This being compassed, At a set hour a letter shall be brought me, And, when they think they may securely play, They nearest are to danger. Nick, I must rely Upon thy trust and faithful secrecy. Nicholas. Build on my faith. Frankford. To bed then, not to rest: Care lodges in my brain, grief in my breast. [_Exeunt_. ACT THE FOURTH. SCENE I.--_A Room in_ Old Mountford’s _House_. _Enter_ Susan, Old Mountford, Sandy, Roder, _and_ Tidy. Old Mountford. You say my nephew is in great distress: Who brought it to him, but his own lewd life? I cannot spare a cross.[1.32] I must confess He was my brother’s son: why, niece, what then? This is no world in which to pity men.