n
My sudden recrudescency of love.
I willed our marriage; but 'twas fate bestowed
The joys I long had fled. Then came our life
In Amsterdam; each day so filled with bliss
It overflowed into the next, and days
Of joy grew into weeks and months of happiness--
Let me have wine, I say!

_Ursula._ [_Within_] Coming, sir!

_Roger._ Anon the traveling itch--was't fate or will--
Possessed my soul to see America,
And money matters calling me to London,
Where raged the plague, I sent my wife before me
To America with Captain Butts, then bound
For Boston. Ah! well-a-day, the parting!--
I hurried up my business; fled London town;
Shipped for America; was wrecked far South;
Captured by Indians; escaping, wandered North
Until I found the white man's colonies;
And now footsore and old I've reached the place
I first intended. What next, O, Fate?

_Enter URSULA._

Good morrow, hostess.

_Ursula._ Good morrow, sir. [_Surprised._

_Roger._ Look not
Askance upon my way-worn clothes; there's gold
To pay my reckoning. [_Throwing money down._

_Ursula._ Your pardon, sir; I marveled, sir, so fine a gentleman
Should be so travel-stained. What will you have?

_Roger._ Bring me a cup of sherris-sack.

_Ursula._ [_Aside_] I knew he was a gentleman! [_Exit._

_Roger._ How will my Hester greet me? Will she know me?
She never saw me with a beard, nor in
Such rags. Perhaps she thinks me dead--
If so, the shock might kill her--Let me see--
Putative widows have before my time
Bought second husbands with their beauty, wealth,
Or wit--and she hath all. 'Tis probable--
And when the long-supposed defunct returned,
He found his amorous relict the bride
Of a bright-eyed youth! What worse, ye harpy fates?
She may be dead! Oh! this is madness!
Sweet Heaven, let her live! and, if I find
Her married, I'll depart unknown to her
And bury in my heart's deep sepulchre
My widowed grief. Bah! I'm a fool!
This weakness comes from my long wandering!
Misfortunes, though we think we conquer them,
Ever pursue, hang on our rear, and give
Such rankling wounds as teach our souls to dread
What else may lie in wait invincible.

_Re-enter URSULA with wine._

_Ursula._ I beg your pardon, sir. I could not find the wine at
first.

_Roger._ Why, how was that?

_Ursu