PIP.  O, my mistress! my mistress! she’s dead! 
She’s gone! she’s dead! she’s gone!

ANS.  What’s that he says?

PIP.  Out of my way! stand back, I say! 
All joy from earth has fled! 
She is this day as cold as clay;
My mistress she is dead! 
O Lord, my mistress! my mistress! [Exit.

ANS.  What, Mistress Arthur dead? my soul is vanish’d,
And the world’s wonder from the world quite banish’d. 
O, I am sick, my pain grows worse and worse;
I am quite struck through with this late discourse.

FUL.  What! faint’st thou, man?  I’ll lead thee hence; for shame! 
Swoon at the tidings of a woman’s death! 
Intolerable, and beyond all thought! 
Come, my love’s fool, give me thy hand to lead;
This day one body and two hearts are dead.

[Exeunt ANSELM and FULLER.

Y. LUS.  But now she was as well as well might be,
And on the sudden dead; joy in excess
Hath overrun her poor disturbed soul. 
I’ll after, and see how Master Arthur takes it;
His former hate far more suspicious makes it.
          
                               [Exit.

Enter HUGH, and after him, PIPKIN.

HUGH.  My master hath left his gloves behind where he sat in his chair, and hath sent me to fetch them; it is such an old snudge, he’ll not lose the droppings of his nose.

PIP.  O mistress!  O Hugh!  O Hugh!  O mistress! 
Hugh, I must needs beat thee; I am mad! 
I am lunatic!  I must fall upon thee:  my mistress is dead!
                                           [Beats HUGH.

HUGH.  O Master Pipkin, what do you mean? what do you mean,
Master Pipkin?

PIP.  O Hugh!  O mistress!  O mistress!  O Hugh!

HUGH.  O Pipkin!  O God!  O God!  O Pipkin!

Pip.  O Hugh, I am mad! bear with me, I cannot choose:  O death! 
O mistress!  O mistress!  O death! [Exit.

HUGH.  Death, quotha? he hath almost made me dead with beating.

    Re-enter JUSTICE REASON, OLD MASTER ARTHUR,
    and OLD MASTER LUSAM.

JUS.  I wonder why the knave, my man, stays thus,
And comes not back:  see where the villain loiters.

Re-enter PIPKIN.

PIP.  O Master Justice!  Master Arthur!  Master Lusam! wonder not why I thus blow and bluster; my mistress is dead! dead is my mistress! and therefore hang yourselves.  O, my mistress, my mistress!
          
                                          [Exit.

O. ART.  My son’s wife dead!

O. LUS.  My daughter!

Enter YOUNG MASTER ARTHUR, mourning.

JUS.  Mistress Arthur!  Here comes her husband.

Y. ART.  O, here the woful’st husband comes alive,
No husband now; the wight, that did uphold
That name of husband, is now quite o’erthrown,
And I am left a hapless widower.