And tempted me to gather, must I make
My selfe uncapable and be guilty of
So black, so base a forfeit? I could teare
My eyelids of, that durst let in a Mist
So darke and so destroying, must I sleepe
At such a tyme that the Divell must be over
Watche too! This houre hath blasted such a hope
As the Earth never teemd with nor the spring
Gave up in smileing blosomes to the breath
Of those sweet windes that whisper from the West
A tale of triumph to the yeere. I could
Dissolve with curseing of my Lathargie.
How shall I looke upon her face whose love
And bold adventure I have thus rewarded?
But passion cannot cure my wound; which must
Bleed till I see her, and then either cease,
Blest by her pardon, or dismiss a life
(Though iust) too poore a Sacrifice for her anger.
Where shall I hide my selfe and shame for ever!

[_Exit_.

_The Fifth Act_.

_Enter Sister_.

_Sis_. I cannot forgett my carelesse gentleman: his neglect and
reproaches have wrought strangely upon me.--Hee's here.

_Enter Courtwell_.

_Cou_. Is there not a weesill crept into your Chamber, lady?

_Sis_. A weesill, sir?

_Cou_. A Mounsier sucklegge.

_Sis_. Do you take my Chamber for a henns neast?

_Cou_. There is a thing that calls himselfe _Device_,
One that will break the hart of a post horse
To continue a hand gallop with him; your Alamode,
Your fighting faery feather'd footed servant,--
When saw you him?

_Sis_. My fighting servant? has he beaten you, sir?
Perhapps he thought you were his Rivall; surely
I saw him not since yesterday.

_Cou_. Bu'y, Ladie.--
How many mile ist to the next Cutlers?
The rogue has pawn'd or sold my sword.
[_Offers to go forth_.

_Sis_. Dee heare, sir?
I can tell you now what Lady twas you did
Abuse so.

_Cou_. I abuse a Ladie! tell me the slave
Reported it. I hope twill prove this Mounsieur.
If ere we meet agen! Who wast?

_Sis_. Upon condition, sir, you will requite me
But with one gentle favour.

_Cou_. Any thing--

_Sis_. You must sitt downe and heare me then while I
At a distance thus deliver--

_Cou_. Tis more state.

_Sis_. I am most unfortunate.

_Cou_. In what, deare Damsell?

_Sis_. And much wrongd by a gentleman I lov'd.

_Cou_. Can he be a gentleman that dares
Wrong so much love and beauty? what's the offence?

_Sis_. He wo'not love agen.

_Cou_. And you would have
The stubborne man correct