am I round beset on every side!
First, that same captain here stands to kill me;
My dame she hath already poisoned me;
Earl Morgan he doth threaten present death;
The Countess Honorea, in revenge
Of Lacy, is extremely incens'd 'gainst me.
All threaten--none shall do it; for my date
Is now expired, and I must back to hell.
And now, my servant, wheresoe'er thou be,
Come quickly, Akercock, and follow me.
Lordings, adieu, and my curs'd wife, farewell,
If me ye seek, come follow me to hell.

[_The ground opens, and they both fall[480] down into it_.

MOR. The earth that opened now is clos'd again.

DUN. It is God's judgment for his grievous sins.

CLIN. Was there a quagmire, that he sank so soon?

HON. O miracle! now may we justly say,
Heavens have reveng'd my husband's death this day.

MOR. Alas, poor Marian! we have wrong'd thee much
To cause thee match thyself to any such.

MAR. Nay, let him go, and sink into the ground;
For such as he are better lost than found.
Now, Honorea, we are freed from blame,
And both enrich'd with happy widow's name[481].

_Enter_ EARL LACY, _with_ FORREST _and_ MUSGRAVE.

LACY. O, lead me quickly to that mourning train,
Which weep for me, who am reviv'd again.

HON. Marian, I shed some tears of perfect grief.
[_She falleth into a swoon_.

MOR. Do not my eyes deceive me? liveth my son?

LACY. My lord and father, both alive and well,
Recover'd of my weakness. Where's my wife?

MAR. Here is my lady, your beloved wife,
Half dead to hear of your untimely end.

LACY. Look on me, Honorea; see thy lord:
I am not dead, but live to love thee still.

DUN. 'Tis God disposeth all things, as he will:
He raiseth those the wicked wish to fall.

CLIN. 'Zounds, I still watch on this enclosed ground;
For if he rise again, I'll murder him.

HON. My lord, my tongue's not able to report
Those joys my heart conceives to see thee live.

DUN. Give God the glory: he recovered thee,
And wrought this judgment on that cursed man,
That set debate and strife among ye all.

MOR. My lord, our eyes have seen a miracle,
Which after ages ever shall admire.
The Spanish doctor, standing here before us,
Is sunk into the bowels of the earth,
Ending his vile life by a viler death.

LACY. But, gentle Marian, I bewail thy loss,
That wert maid, wife, and widow, all so soon.

MAR. 'Tis your recovery that joys me more,
Than grief can touch me for the doctor's death.
He ne