SEBASTIANO

TO He noble courtesies I have received At Lisbon worthy friend, so much engage That I must die indebted to your worth, Unless you mean to accept what I've studied. Although but partly to discharge the sum . Endue to your honoured love. I speak my thoughts, My tongue and heart are relatives, I think I have deserved no base opinion from you; I wish not only to perpetuate Our friendship, but to exchange that common name Of friend, for Nay then Antonio you mistake, I mean not To leave of friend, which with another title Would not be lost, come them I'll tell you Sir, I would be friend and brother, thus our friendshi Shall Like a diamond set in gold not lose His sparkling, but show fairer; I have a pair Of sisters, which I would commend, but that I might seem partial their birth and Fortune's Deserving noble love; if thou be'st free From other fair engagement, I would be proud To speak them worthy, come shalt go and see them I would not beg them suitors, fame hath spread Through Portugal their persons, and drawn to Have oh. Many affectionate gallants. The same. You shall honour me, And glad my noble Father, to whom you are No stranger, your own worth before, hath been Sufficient preparation. Still you out do me, I could never wish My service better placed, at opportunity I'll visit you at Elva's, i'th mean time Lets hast to Avero, where with you I'll bring My double welcome, and not fail to second Any design. The same. Antonio my father is a rock, In that he first resolved, and I account it partly of my Own unhappiness, I hope you hold me not suspected, My father thinks that sister worthy of More than a bore Nobility. I'll see you a league or two. She's not full forty yet sir. WElcome honest Diego, your Master Antonio is in health I hope. You follow it close me thinks Berinthia, I see this cloud Vanish already, be not deject worser,soon I'll know the depth ont should the world forsake thee, Thou shalt not want a brother deer Berinthia. What fearful cry is this, where are you? Ansilva where art hurt? Whither? which way? My sister Berinthia is violently taken out of her Chamber, and heres Ansilva hurt, see look about, Berinthia sister. It is apparent sir, Valascoes noble. Her Chamber broken open , and she taken thence Thy night. Sir she is my sister, I have a sword dares tent A wound as far as any; spare your valour My most unhappy sister. 'Tis yet in question sir, and will not be So easily proved. Antonio I come not now to Compliment, While you were noble, I was not least of them You called your friends, but you are guilty of And Actium that destroys that name. Add to him ungrateful. Sister you must along with me. Antonio, for here I throw of all The ties of love, I come to fetch a sister, Dishonourably taken from her father; Or with my sword to force thee render her: Now if thou be'st a Soldier redeliver, Or keep her with the danger of thy person , Thou Can st ot be my brother, till we first Be allied I blood. I were ungrateful. Why would you have me think, my sister owes to you such preservation? You must not beat my resolution off With these inventions sir. You amaze me sir. I cannot but believe it, o Berinthi , I am wounded ere I fight. But will you back with me then? And shall I carry shame To Villarezoes house, neglect of father, Whose precepts binds me to return with her, Or leave my life at Elva's, I must on, I have herd you to no purpose, shall Berinthi Back to Avero. Choose thee a second then, this Count and Mean to leave honour here. And wilt How be dishonourd? Let it be so Antonio. This honour Madam of your self and brother, Make me unhappy, when I remember, what I came for, not to feast thus but to fight. Music. Or else my curse, that word cries out for death. Sister. Then J must take my leave, for I am sent for, I am sorry for your fate, Madam I am exepected By a father your virtue hath made me yours. How? Hell on such baseness, v cele engage no more; Let our words try it out. It is granted; It is not in my power. I valve not the odds. So thy death makes the scale even. Antonio before though diest cut off my hand, art woun dead mortally? Away, away. MY friend, my noble friend, that had deserved Most honorably from me, by this hand Divorced from life, and yet I have the use ont, Haplesle Sebastiano; o Berinthia, Let me for ever loose the name of Brother, Wilt thou not curse my memory, give me up To thy just hate a murderer. He's newly gone that way, mayest soon over take him I have no friend alive boy, carry it back, 'Tis not to me, I've not another friend In all the world. Would, name him prithee. Thou liest, and thart a villain, who hath sent thee To tempt Sebastianoes soul to act on thee Another death, for thus affrighting me. Thou dost not promise cozenage, what gift is it? Can it be Thou Wertenberg his boy, o thou shouldst hate me then, Th'art false, I dare not trust thee, unto him Thou shewest thee now unfaithful to accept Of me, I killed him thy Master, it a friend he could commit thee to, I only was, Of all the stock of men his enemy, His cruelest enemy. All is as true as Oracle by heaven, Dost thou believe so? Yet be not rash; TO is no advantage to belong to me, I have no power nor greatness in the Court, To raise thee to a fortune, worthy of So much observance as I shall expect when thou art mine. Beside, I shall afflict thy tenderness With solitude and passion, for I am Only in love with sorrow, never merry, Wear out the day in telling of sad tales, Delight in sighs and tears; sometime I walk To a Wood or River purposely to challenge The bouldest Echo, to send back my groans Ith' height I break e'm, come I shall undo thee. I will not leave thee if thou'lt dwell with me For wealth of Indies, be my loved boy, Come in with me, thus I'll begin to do Some recompense for dead Antonio. Prithee boy be patient; The more I strive to throw off the remembrance Of dead Antonio, love still rubs the wounds To make them bleed afresh. Alas good boy, it will but add more weights Of dulness on me, I am stung with worse Than the Tarantula, to be cured with music IT has the exactest unity, but it cannot, Accord my thoughts. O stay thy hand Berinthia? no Th'ast don't, I wish thee heavens forgiveness, I cannot Tarry to hear thy reasons, at many doors, My life runs out, and yet Berinthia Does in her name give me more wounds then these, Antonio, o Antonio, we shall now Be friends again. At me, what news? thou hast a face of horror, more welcome speak it. And onio I am driven in a storm To my self on thee, if not, any curse— We must on sir. Whats the matter my Lord.