int 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?

_Kath._ 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.

_Kath_. 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 deportment
Seem'd as of one obliged. A slender trunk,
The wardrobe of her scant and ancient clothing,
Bespoke no more. But in few days her dress,
Her looks, were proudly changed. And now she flaunts it
In jewels stolen or borrow'd from my wife;
Who owes her some strange service, of what nature
I must be kept in ignorance. Katherine's meek
And gentle spirit cowers beneath her eye,
As spell-bound by some witch.

_Lucy_. Some mystery hangs on it.
How bears she in her carriage towar