Volume Viii Part 30 (2/2)
Away from me! your treacheries I hate.
You, when your n.o.ble master was undone, (That honourable-minded Huntington), Who forwarder than you all to distrain?
And, as a wolf that chaseth on the plain The harmless hind, so wolf-like you pursued Him and his servants. Vile ingrat.i.tude, d.a.m.n'd Judasism,[231] false wrong, abhorred treachery, Impious wickedness, wicked impiety!
Out, out upon thee! foh, I spit at thee!
WAR. Good cousin.
COU. Away! I'll spurn thee if thou follow me.
[_Exit_.
WAR. O just heaven, how thou plagu'st iniquity!
All that he has my hand on him bestowed.
My master gave me all I ever owed, My master I abus'd in his distress; In mine my kinsman leaves me comfortless.
_Enter_ JAILER _of Nottingham, leading a dog_.
Here comes another; one that yesterday Was at my service, came when I did call, And him I made jailer of Nottingham.
Perchance some pity dwells within the man; Jailer, well met; dost thou not know me, man?
JAI. Yes, thou art Warman; every knave knows thee.
WAR. Thou know'st I was thy master yesterday.
JAI. Ay, but 'tis not as it was: farewell; go by.
WAR. Good George, relieve my bitter misery.
JAI. By this flesh and blood, I will not.
No, if I do, the devil take me quick.
I have no money, beggar: balk the way!
WAR. I do not ask thee money.
JAI. Wouldst ha' meat?
WAR. Would G.o.d I had a little bread to eat.
JAI. Soft, let me feel my bag. O, here is meat, That I put up at Retford for my dog: I care not greatly if I give thee[232] this.
WAR. I prythee, do.
JAI.[233] Yet let me search my conscience for it first: My dog's my servant, faithful, trusty, true; But Warman was a traitor to his lord, A reprobate, a rascal and a Jew, Worser than dogs, of men to be abhorr'd!
Starve, therefore, Warman; dog, receive thy due.
Follow me not, lest I belabour you, You half-fac'd groat, you thick-cheek'd chittyface; You Judas-villain! you that have undone The honourable Robert Earl of Huntington. [_Exit_.
WAR. Worse than a dog the villain me respects, His dog he feeds, me in my need rejects.
What shall I do? yonder I see a shed, A little cottage, where a woman dwells, Whose husband I from death delivered: If she deny me, then I faint and die.
Ho! goodwife Thompson!
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