Gentleman
That left me dead, ere brought unto his tryal?

_Doct._ Not known, nor apprehended.

_Dua._ That's my grief.

_Doct._ Why, do you wish he had been punished?

_Dua._ No,
The stream of my swoln sorrow runs not that way:
For could I find him, as I vow to Heaven
It shall be my first care to seek him out,
I would with thanks acknowledge that his sword,
In opening my veins, which proud bloud poison'd,
Gave the first symptoms of true health.

_Doct._ 'Tis in you
A Christian resolution: that you live
Is by the Governours, your Uncles charge
As yet conceal'd. And though a sons loss never
Was solemniz'd with more tears of true sorrow
Than have been paid by your unequal'd Mother
For your supposed death, she's not acquainted
With your recovery.

_Dua._ For some few dayes
Pray let her so continue: thus disguis'd
I may abroad unknown.

_Doct._ Without suspicion
Of being discovered.

_Dua._ I am confident
No moisture sooner dies than womens tears,
And therefore though I know my Mother vertuous,
Yet being one of that frail sex I purpose
Her farther tryal.

_Doct._ That as you think fit--I'le not betray you.

_Dua._ To find out this stranger
This true Physician of my mind and manners
Were such a blessing. He seem'd poor, and may
Perhaps be now in want; would I could find him.
The Innes I'le search first, then the publick Stewes;
He was of _Italy_, and that Country breeds not
Precisians that way, but hot Libertines;
And such the most are: 'tis but a little travail:
I am unfurnisht too, pray Mr. Doctor,
Can you supply me?

_Doct._ With what summ you please.

_Dua._ I will not be long absent.

_Doct._ That I wish too;
For till you have more strength, I would not have you
To be too bold.

_Dua._ Fear not, I will be carefull. [_Exeunt._

_Enter_ Leopold, Zabulon, Bravo.

_Zab._ I have brought him Sir, a fellow that will do it
Though Hell stood in his way, ever provided
You pay him for't.

_Leop._ He has a strange aspect,
And looks much like the figure of a hang-man
In a table of the Passion.

_Zab._ He transcends
All precedents, believe it, a flesh'd ruffian,
That hath so often taken the Strappado,
That 'tis to him but as a lofty trick
Is to a tumbler: he hath perused too
All Dungeons in _Portu[g]al_, thrice seven years
Rowed in the Galleys for three several murthers,
Though I presume that he has done a hundred,
And scap't unpunisht.

_Leop._ He is much in debt to you,
You set hi