[_Exit_ CLINTON.

_Enter_ CASTILIANO.

CAS. My trunk's broke open, and my jewels gone!
My gold and treasure stol'n: my house despoil'd
Of all my furniture, and nothing left?
No, not my wife, for she is stol'n away:
But she hath pepper'd me, I feel it work--
My teeth are loosen'd, and my belly swell'd;
My entrails burn with such distemper'd heat,
That well I know my dame hath poison'd me:
When she spoke fairest, then she did this act.
When I have spoken all I can imagine,
I cannot utter half that she intends;
She makes as little poisoning of a man,
As to carouse; I feel that this is true.

_Enter_ CLINTON.

Nay, now I know too much of womankind.
'Zounds, here's the captain: what should he make here
With his sword drawn? there's yet more villany.

CLIN. The morning is far spent; but yet he comes not.
I wonder Marian sends him not abroad.
Well, doctor, linger time, and linger life;
For long thou shalt not breathe upon the earth.

CAS. No, no, I will not live amongst ye long:
Is it for me thou wait'st, thou bloody wretch?
Her poison hath prevented thee in murther.

_Enter_ EARL MORGAN, ST DUNSTAN _with_ HONOREA
_fainting, and_ MARIAN.

Now here be they suppose Earl Lacy dead.
See how this lady grieveth for that she wisheth.

DUN. My Lord of London, by his sudden death,
And all the signs before his late departure,
'Tis very probable that he is poison'd.

MAR. Do you but doubt it? credit me, my lord,
I heard him say that drink should be his last:
I heard my husband speak it, and he did it.

CAS. There is my old friend, she always speaks for me.
O shameless creature, was't not thy device?

MOR. Let not extremity of grief o'erwhelm thee,
My dearest Honorea; for his death shall be
Surely reveng'd with all severity
Upon the doctor, and that suddenly.

CLIN. What fortune's this, that all these come this way
To hinder me, and save thy life to-day?

HON. My gracious lord, this doleful accident
Hath robb'd me of my joy: and, royal earl,
Though in thy life thou didst suspect my love,
My grief and tears suspicions shall remove.

MAR. Madam, to you and to your father's love
I owe as much and more than my own life.
Had I ten husbands should agree to do it,
My gracious lord, you presently should know it.

CAS. Ay, there's a girl! think you I did not well,
To live with such a wife, to come from hell.

MAR. Look, look, my lord, there stands the murderer!

CAS. How