ISABELLA

Surprised by him alone, Oh my just fears. My noble Lord. My Lord, bade custom is become In men a second nature to deceive Poor Virgins by their flatteries; noble youth, That I do love you dearly, may these tears, Shed for your folly testify: look back Into your princeless honour, call that up To assist the fortress of your mind assailed By foul unlawful passion: think how base it's, To rob a silly Orphan of her dowry; I have no other but my Virgin whiteness, Left to uphold my fame, nought but my virtue To my inheritance; should you despoil me Of that fair portion by your lust, my memory, Would Like and early Rose bud by that tempest, Die on its own stalk blasted. Women's fame's sir, Are Like thin Crystal glasses, by a breath Blown into excellent form, and by a touch, Cracked or quite broken: say I should consent To your desires, your appetite once sated, You would repent the fact, when you should see Your self surrounded in a missed of cares, View bashful Virgins point at you, as at Some hateful prodigy; hear matrons cry, There goes the lustful thief, that glories in The spoil of innocent Virgins, that foul thief, That has a hundred eyes to let lust in at, As many tongues to give his wild thoughts utterance. Do not sir Abuse that sacred title which the Saints, And powers celestial glory in, by ascribing It to your lose desires, pray rather cloth them In their own attribute, term them your lust sir, Your wild irregular lust, which Like those fired rakes Misguiding nighted travellers, will led you Forth of the fair path of your fame and virtue, To unavoided ruin. Thus besieged, It is high time, I summon up my virtue, All that is good, about me, to assist But never aspire your Nuptials. My Lord, I'm so secure in my own innocence, That should your fury riot on my life, 'Twould not affright me, I should meet my death, As willingly as I should do my rest, After a tedious watching, there's no armour Like that of innocence, with which I'm guarded, And therefore laugh at punishment. Dear Albertus, draw not a ruin on thy prizeles life, For my despised sake I will go to death, All peace as does and Anchorite, that's assured of all his sins for givenesse. There friend, there's all the Jewels I am mistress of, And that thou merits, prithee be as speedy In thy dispatch, as fate it self; there is A pure white Ghost in you same azure cloud, Expects me straight, I come my deer Albertus. Is hanged. Ten comely dollars, and the devil take her, she paid me with a pox. But see, here comes the Lady of the Lake, for whom you good fir Lancelot make these lamentations; be not you bashful now, but fallen on boldly heart, let me drill her for you, if her body be under Musket proof, it's ten to one my morris pike shall enter. to her, to her. Exit Newm.