MARWOOD

Dost hear firra? Is Master Beauford within? I was informed he came hither, is he not here? Thou sayest he's not within. How is this? Witty Groom, pret ee invite him forth; say here's a friend Why dost not move? It much abo e my desert sir: Captain. Your pardon. We are kinsmen. And shall I doubt to speak to Beauford any thing, My love directs me to? I do: And ere I come to the perjod of my Story, Your understanding will admire. I am not Cose ith'number of those friends Come to congratulate your present marriage. I am no flatterer, the blood you carry Does warm my veins, yet could nature be Forgetfu l and remove it self, the love I owe your merit, coth oblige me, to Relation of a truth which else would fire My bo oh ne with concealment. I am come To divide your S u e, ravish all your pleasures, Poison the very air maintains your breathing, You must not marry. Death is A mockery to that divorce I bring, Come you must not love her. Do not, I will too soon arrive, and make you curse Your knowledge, couldst exchan e thy temper for And angels at the hearing of this reason, 'Twould make you passionate, and urn man again. False, sinful, a black soul she has. I did prophesy, That it would come to this, for I have had A tedious struggling with my nature, but The name of friend overbalanced the exception: Forgive me Ladies, that my love to man Hath power to make me guilty of such language, As with it, must betray a woman's honour: Then, though it carry shame to the reporters, Forgive me heaven, and witness and unwelcome truth. It will enlarge it self too soon, receive it; I have enjoyed her. Gratiana sinfully, before your love Made she and you acquainted. Your friendship I would preferred To my own fame, and but to save you from A lasting shipwreck, noble Beauford, think It should have rotted here, she that will partly With Virgin honour, never should wed the heart. Sir, make use Of reason, 'tis a knowledge should rejoice you, Since it does teach you to preserve your self. Cousin: I repent I have been so open breasted, since you make This severe use on't, and afflict your mind With womanish sorrow, I have but cautioned you Against a danger, out of my true friendship: Prosper me goodness as my ends are noble Goodnight, collect your self, and be a man. Exit. Was this your purpose. We must be the sword-players. This is the way to make it A night indeed, but if you recollect Your self, I brought you beams to let you see The horror of that darkness you are going to, By marrying with Gratiana. I must tell Beauford them, He is ungrateful to return so ill My friendship, have I vnder-va'ued My shame in the relation of a truth, To make the man I wooed preserve, my enemy: Why dost thou tempt thy destiny with so Much sin? dost Thy ke I were a sword I dare Not manage? or that I can be enforced To a revolt? I am no Rebel Beauford : Again I must confirm Gratiana's honour Stained, the treasures of her chastity Rifled, and lost, it my unhappiness To have added that, unto my other sins Ith'wildnesse of my blood, which thou mayest punish. Truth is ever constant R Maines upon her square, firm, and unshaken. I Like this well. as de. This worser es become you. Whom? How Sir, marry her? Marriage, with whom? Should I marry a whore? Are you serious? Will you fight? Mortally, fly Beauford, save thy self, I hasten to the dead. Yes, in my lust, but not in my report, Take my last breath, I sinfully enjoyed her, One hol lows within. Gratiana is a blotted piece of alabaster: Farewell least some betray thee, heaven forgive My offence, as I do freely pardon thine. O! O. Here sir. A live, as glad to S e thee, as thou art To know thy self for my ; Which I of purpose by this honest friend, To whose cure, I owe my life, made you believe, I increase our joy at meeting: for you Lady, You are a woman,—yet you might would been Less violent in your p eading, do not Eng ge me passed respects of mi e, or your own honour. L to it be mine, we have had sto mes already. Why d'ee tempt me to us? So so, you see, I am silent still. Then farewell all respect, and hear me tell This bold and insolent woman, that so late Made triumph in my death. Sirrah boy, who made you so peremptory He would be whipped. Hath my love made me thus ridiculous? Beauford, that you will suffer such a boy To affront me? then against all the world I rise and enemy, and defy his valour Dares justify Gratiana virtuous. You are come oppor unely, Cardona speak the truth, as thou wouldst not Eat my p nard, is not Gratiana A sinful woman. What means Marwood, would? Would? I am to a confasion, where's this daughter? Into how many sins h that lust engaged me? Is there a hope you can forgive, and you, And she whom I have most dishonoured I never had a conscience till now, To be grieved for her, I will hide my self From all the World. Beauford, Gentlemen, This is a woman, Lucibol your daughter, The too much injured maid: o pardon me, Welcome both to my knowledge, and my heart. I shall begin my recompense: Lea you to Church we'll find the P jest more work. I have been wild indeed In my vngouernd youth, but have reclaimed it, And am to laden with the memory of former errors, Than I desire to be confessed. But you must hear, you may absolve me too: I must require your present hearing, A concerns us both, as near as fame, or life. We shall have opportunity at your lodging, The streets are populous and full noise, So please you walk, I'll wait one you. Stay Beauford, Since you dare be so confident of her chastity Hear me conclude, I bring no idle fable Patched up between suspicion, and report Of scandalous tongues, my ears were no assurance To convince me without my eyes.