t is not proved, you have your life.

_Isab._ I thank you for't, I'll make the noblest use
Of your sad gift; that is, to die unforced:
I'll make a present of my life to Towerson,
To let you see, though worthless of his love,
I would not live without him.

_Tow._ I charge you, love my memory, but live.

_Har._ She shall be strictly guarded from that violence
She means against herself.

_Isab._ Vain men! there are so many paths to death,
You cannot stop them all: o'er the green turf,
Where my love's laid, there will I mourning sit,
And draw no air but from the damps that rise
Out of that hallowed earth; and for my diet,
I mean my eyes alone shall feed my mouth.
Thus will I live, till he in pity rise,
And the pale shade take me in his cold arms,
And lay me kindly by him in his grave.

_Enter_ COLLINS, _and then_ PEREZ, JULIA _following him._

_Har._ No more; your time's now come, you must away.

_Col._ Now, devils, you have done your worst with tortures; death's a
privation of pain, but they were a continual dying.

_Jul._ Farewell, my dearest! I may have many husbands,
But never one like thee.

_Per._ As you love my soul, take hence that woman.--
My English friends, I'm not ashamed of death,
While I have you for partners; I know you innocent,
And so am I, of this pretended plot;
But I am guilty of a greater crime;
For, being married in another country,
The governor's persuasions, and my love
To that ill woman, made me leave the first,
And make this fatal choice.
I'm justly punished; for her sake I die:
The Fiscal, to enjoy her, has accused me.
There is another cause;
By his procurement I should have killed--

_Fisc._ Away with him, and stop his mouth. [_He is led off._

_Tow._ I leave thee, life, with no regret at parting;
Full of whatever thou could'st give, I rise
From thy neglected feast, and go to sleep:
Yet, on this brink of death, my eyes are opened,
And heaven has bid me prophecy to you,
The unjust contrivers of this tragic scene:--
_An age is coming, when an English monarch
With blood shall pay that blood which you have shed:
To save your cities from victorious arms,
You shall invite the waves to hide your earth[1],
And, trembling, to the, tops of houses fly,
While deluges invade your lower rooms:
Then, as with waters you have swelled our bodies,
With damps of waters shall your heads be swoln:
Till, at the last, your sapped foundations fall,
And universal ruin swallows all._