Why weeps my wife? You know, I promised you
An airing o'er the pleasant Hampshire downs
To the blest cottage on the green hill side,
Where first I told my love. I wonder much,
If the crimson parlour hath exchanged its hue
For colours not so welcome. Faded though it be,
It will not shew less lovely than the tinge
Of this faint red, contending with the pale,
Where once the full-flush'd health gave to this cheek
An apt resemblance to the fruit's warm side,
That bears my Katherine's name.--

Our carriage, Philip.

_Enter a Servant_.

Now, Robin, what make you here?

SERVANT
May it please you,
The coachman has driven out with Mrs. Frampton.

SELBY
He had no orders--

SERVANT
None, Sir, that I know of,
But from the lady, who expects some letter
At the next Post Town.

SELBY
Go, Robin.

[_Exit Servant_.]

How is this?

KATHERINE
I came to tell you so, but fear'd your anger--

SELBY
It was ill done though of this Mistress Frampton,
This forward Widow. But a ride's poor loss
Imports not much. In to your chamber, love,
Where you with music may beguile the hour,
While I am tossing over dusty tomes,
Till our most reasonable friend returns.

KATHERINE
I am all obedience. [_Exit Katherine_]

SELBY
Too obedient, Kate,
And to too many masters. I can hardly
On such a day as this refrain to speak
My sense of this injurious friend, this pest,
This household evil, this close-clinging fiend,
In rough terms to my wife. 'Death! my own servants
Controll'd above me! orders countermanded!'
What next? _[Servant enters and announces the Sister]

_Enter Lucy._

Sister! I know you are come to welcome
This day's return. 'Twas well done.

LUCY
You seem ruffled.
In years gone by this day was used to be
The smoothest of the year. Your honey turn'd
So soon to gall?

SELBY
Gall'd am I, and with cause,
And rid to death, yet cannot get a riddance,
Nay, scarce a ride, by this proud Widow's leave.

LUCY
Something you wrote me of a Mistress Frampton.

SELBY
She came at first a meek admitted guest,
Pretending a short stay; her whole depo