shall inculcate your desires unto him.
--Her favour! goe to, theres comfort.
[_Exit_.

_Enter Thorowgood_.

_Tho_. Madam, theres one brings a sad message to you.

_Lady_. From whome, I pray you.

_Tho_. From two friends of yours
Your cruelty has murdred,

_Lady_. My cruelty
Never extended to that horrid height,
Not to my foes. Who are they?

_Tho_. Your daughter,
The innocent _Belisia_, and my friend,
Her worthy suiter, _Bonvill_.

_Lady_. Your freind and my daughter dead and by my meanes!
This cannot be; my daughters sure in the house.
Good sir, unfould this ridle, it begetts
Wonder and terror in me.

_Tho_. Madam, you know with what a cruel messuage
You sent me to my friend, which provd as false
As your faire daughter virtuous. Why you did it
I will not question, nor upbraid you with
This violation of your faith.

_Lady_. This story
Conduces nothing to the deathes you talkd of.

_Tho_. Yes, since then
A iust mistrust that you would crosse their match
Causd them last night privatly to steale hence
With an intention to have reacht the house
Where _Bonvills_ mother lives; but see the fates
How they dispose of men! crossing the River
That runns beneath your orchard, and ith darke,
Their headstrong horses missing the ford overthrew them
And, which I cannot without true griefe utter,
There drownd them both.
Was it not soe, _Grimes_?

_Grimes_. Tis too sad a truth; and I,
After all meanes to save their life was past,
Lookd to my owne and got the shore: their bodies
I feare the violence of the tide has carried
Into the Sea by this time.

_Lady_. Enough, good friend; no more.
Had a rude _Scythian_, ignorant of teares,
Unlesse the wind enforcd them from his eyes,
Heard this relation, sure he would have wept;
And yet I cannot. I have lost all sense
Of pitty with my womanhood, and now
That once essentiall Mistress of my soule,
Warme charity, no more inflames my brest
Than does the glowewormes ineffectual fire
The ha[n]d that touches it. Good sir, desist
The agravation of your sad report; [_Weepe_
Ive to much greife already.

_Tho_. It becomes you:
You do appeare more glorious in these t[ears]
Then the red morne when she adornes her cheeks
With _Nabathean_ pearls: in such a posture
Stand _Phaetons_ sisters when they doe distill
Their much prisd amber. Madam, but resume
Your banishd reason to you, and consider
How many Iliads of preposterous mische