Vent . What is she?

Serv . Sir, I asked her not.

Vent . Bid her come in.

[ Exit Servant .

Enter Mistress MERRYTHOUGHT and MICHAEL.

Mist . Mer . Peace be to your worship! I come as a poor suitor to you, sir, in the behalf of this child.

Vent . Are you not wife to Merrythought?

Mist . Mer . Yes, truly. Would I had ne’er seen his eyes! he has undone me and himself and his children; and there he lives at home, and sings and hoits and revels among his drunken companions! but, I warrant you, where to get a penny to put bread in his mouth he knows not: and therefore, if it like your worship, I would entreat your letter to the honest host of the Bell in Waltham, that I may place my child under the protection of his tapster, in some settled course of life.

Vent . I’m glad the heavens have heard my prayers. Thy husband,
When I was ripe in sorrows, laughed at me;
Thy son, like an unthankful wretch, I having
Redeemed him from his fall, and made him mine,
To show his love again, first stole my daughter,
Then wronged this gentleman, and, last of all,
Gave me that grief had almost brought me down
Unto my grave, had not a stronger hand
Relieved my sorrows. Go, and weep as I did,
And be unpitied; for I here profess
An everlasting hate to all thy name.

Mist . Mer . Will you so, sir? how say you by that?—Come,
Mick; let him keep his wind to cool his pottage. We’ll go to thy nurse’s, Mick: she knits silk stockings, boy; and we’ll knit too, boy, and be beholding to none of them all.

[ Exit with Michael .

Enter Boy.

Boy . Sir, I take it you are the master of this house.

Vent . How then, boy!

Boy . Then to yourself, sir, comes this letter.

[ Gives letter .

Vent . From whom, my pretty boy?

Boy . From him that was your servant; but no more
Shall that name ever be, for he is dead:
Grief of your purchased anger broke his heart.
I saw him die, and from his hand received
This paper, with a charge to bring it hither:
Read it, and satisfy yourself in all.

Vent . [ Reads .] Sir, that I have wronged your love I must confess; in which I have purchased to myself, 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