The Complete Works of William Shakespeare - Israel Gollancz William Shakespeare [1930]
MASTER
Good sir, in that the angels would be pleas'd, and the world's murmurs calm'd, and I should say I set forth then upon a lucky day.
Exit Master [with Servant].
HUSBAND
Oh thou confused man, thy pleasant sins have undone thee, thy damnation has beggar'd thee! That Heaven should say we must not sin, and yet made women, gives our senses way to find pleasure, which being found, confounds us. Why should we know those things so much misuse us? Oh, would virtue had been forbidden, we should then have proved all virtuous, for 'tis our blood to love what we are forbidden! Had not drunkenness been forbidden, what man would have been fool to a beast, and zany to a swine to show tricks in the mire? What is there in three dice to make a man draw thrice three thousand acres into the compass of a round little table, and with the gentleman's palsy in the hand, shake out his posterity? Thieves or beggars; 'tis done, I ha' done't, i'faith! Terrible, horrible misery! How well was I left, very well, very well! My lands showed like a full moon about me, but now the moon's i' th' last quarter, waning, waning. And I am mad to think that moon was mine: mine and my father's, and my forefathers', generations, generations. Down goes the house of us, down, down, it sinks. Now is the name a beggar, begs in me that name which hundreds of years has made this shire famous: in me, and my posterity runs out. In my seed five are made miserable besides myself. My riot is now my brother's jailer, my wife's sighing, my three boys' penury, and mine own confusion.
Tears his hair.
Why sit my hairs upon my cursed head?
Will not this poison scatter them? Oh, my brother's
In execution among devils
That stretch him and make him give. And I in want,
Not able for to live, nor to redeem him.
Divines and dying men may talk of Hell,
But in my heart her several torments dwell.
Slavery and misery! Who in this case
Would not take up money upon his soul,
Pawn his salvation, live at interest?
I that did ever in abundance dwell,
For me to want, exceeds the throes of Hell!
Enters his little Son with a top and a scourge.
SON
What ails you, father? Are you not well? I cannot scourge my top as long as you stand so: you take up all the room with your wide legs. Puh, you cannot make me afear'd with this; I fear no vizards, nor bugbears.
Husband takes up the child by the skirts of his long coat in one hand and draws his dagger with th' other.
HUSBAND
Up, sir, for here thou hast no inheritance left!
SON
Oh, what will you do, father? I am your white boy.
HUSBAND
Thou shalt be my red boy; take that!
Strikes him.
SON
Oh, you hurt me, father!
HUSBAND
My eldest beggar, thou shalt not live to ask an usurer bread, to cry at a great man's gate, or follow "Good your honour!" by a coach; no, nor your brother. 'Tis charity to brain you.
SON
How shall I learn now my head's broke?
[The Husband] stabs him.
HUSBAND
Bleed, bleed, rather than beg, beg;
Be not thy name's disgrace.
Spurn thou thy fortunes first if they be base.
Come view thy second brother. Fates,
My children's blood shall spin into your faces!
You shall see
How confidently we scorn beggary!
Exit with his Son.
Scene v. The Husband's house, the room above
Enter a Maid with a child in her arms, the mother [Wife] by her asleep.
MAID
Sleep, sweet babe: sorrow makes thy mother sleep.
It bodes small good when [Heaven] falls so deep.
Hush, pretty boy, thy hopes might have been better;
'Tis lost at dice what ancient honours won,
Hard when the father plays away the son;
Nothing but misery serves in this house.
Ruin and desolation, oh!
Enter Husband with the boy bleeding.
HUSBAND
Whore, give me that boy!
Strives with her for the child.
MAID
Oh, help, help! Out, alas! Murder, murder!
HUSBAND
Are you gossiping, prating, sturdy quean?
I'll break your clamour with your neck downstairs: