CYNTHIA

Faith no worse then I did last week, the weather has nothing changed the grain of your complexion. Made to be worn under a Beaver. May we not have the blessing to know the aim of your Fortune's, what coast, for heavens love? What? the Pandresse? But brother? have I not herd you say, your own ears have been witness to her vows, made solemnly to your late Lord; in memory of him, to preserve till death, the unstained honour of a Widow's bed. If nothing else, yet that might cool your confidence. Smile? why so? Brother: I fear me in your travail, you have drunk too much of that Italian air, that hath infected the whole mass of your ingenuous Nature; dried up in you all sap of generous disposition, poisond the very Es sense of your soul, and so polluted your senses, that what soever enters there, takes from them contagion, and is to your fancy represented as foul and tainted, which in it self perhaps is spotless. We have sought you long Sir, there's a Mes senger within, hath brought you letters from the Court, and desires your speech. Sir, it is of weight the bearer says: and beside, much hastens his departure. Honourable Brother! cry mercy! what, in a Conquerors style? but come and over come? Alas you see of how sleight mettle Widow's vows are made. Yet for the honour of our sex, boast not abroad this your easy conquest; another might perhaps have stayed longer below stairs, but upon your confidence, that sur prised her love. Come Sir, will you in? I'll not stir a foot without you. I can not satisfy the messengers impatience. Sir. Let me but see that letter, there is something in this presaging blood of mine, tells me this sudden journey can portend no good, resolve me sweet, have not I given you cause of discontent, by some misprision, or want of fit ob seruance, let me know that I may wreak my self upon my self. of art to cover your busk points; which a blunt and resolute encounter, taken under a fortunate aspect, easily disarms you off; and then alas what are you? poor nam ked sinners, God wot: weak paper walls thrust down with a finger; this is the way on't, boil their appetites to a full height of lust; and then take them down in the neck. Is there probability in this; that a Lady so great, so virtuous, standing on so high terms of honour, should so soon stoop? I am ashamed ant, and abhor to think, So great and vowed a pattern of our sex, Should take into her thoughts, nay to her bed, (Oh stain to womanhood) a second love. In any time. By Juno no; sooner a loathsome Toad. Heavens guide your journey. Yes Madam. Wives should be still young in their husbands loves. Time bears no Sith should bear down them before him. Our lives he may cut short, but not our loves. I wish them happy winds that run that course, From me 'tis far; One Temple sealed our troth. One Tomb, one hour shall end, and shroud us both. Idle discourser. I pray thee leave thy Rhetoric. Thou hast my warrant. Trifler, pursue this wanton Theme no further; Lest (which I would be loath) your speech provoke Uncivil language from me; I must tell you, One joint of him I lost, was much more worth Then the racked value of thy entire body. What are you? Thou seemest and honest Soldier; pray thee then Be as thou seemest; betake thee to thy charge And leave this place; add not affliction To the afflicted. How sweet a breath the calmness of the night in spires the air withal? So Maid, I fear me thy lips have gone so oft to the bottle, that thy tongue-strings are come broken home. So Damosel. You say I must. How excellent ill this humour suits our habit? Nay pray thee take it to thee. Hark I hear some footing near us. Your bottle has poisond this wench sir. Come you're too rude. I'll pledge you Sir. If the world should see this. The praise I have had, I would continue. Not yet sweet love. A little stay will not endanger them. The days proclaimer has not yet given warning. The Cock yet has not beat his third alarm. Thou shalt, thou shalt; though my love to thee Hath proved thus sudden and for hast leapt over The compliment of wooing, Yet only for the world's opinion. I must maintain a form in parting hence. True; but those compliments might have their time for fashion sake. Well go and see; Return, weel go home. Thou shalt not rest before I be resolved What happy wind hath driven thee back to harbour? Was it my love? Yet say so (sweet) that with the thought thereof I may enjoy all that I wish in earth. Die? All the Gods forbid; Oh this affright torments me ten parts more then the sad lose of my deer husband. Yet hear a woman's wit. Take counsel of Necessity and it. I have a body here which once I loved And honoured above all; but that time's passed. That shall supply at so extreme a needs the vacant Gibbet. What hurt is't, being dead it save the living? Vex not thy self deer love, nor use delay. Tempt not this danger, set thy hands to work. The Gods forbid. Oh thou hast told me news that cleaves my heart; Would I had never seen thee, or herd sooner This bloody story; yet see, note my truth Yet I must love thee. I can not doo't. Love must salve any murder: I'll be judge Of thee deer love, and these shall be thy pains In steed of iron, to suffer these soft chains. Arise I say, thou savour of my life. Do not with vain-affrighting conscience Betray a life, that is not thine but mine: Rise and preserve it. It is my Love. So you may do indeed, Or if your own strength will not serve, we'll aid Our hands to yours, and bear him to the place. For heavens love come, the night goes off apace. Do love, be speedy. Whose there? Here was no soldier. Oh Ero! we are undone. Thou didst, thou didst. Nay I resolve to fit out one brunt more; to try to what aim heel enforce his project: were he some other man, un known to me, his violence might awe me; but knowing him as I do, I fear him not. Do thou but second me, thy strength and mine shall master his best force, if he should prove outra gious. Despair they say makes cowards turn courageous. Shut up the Tomb. Shut the Tomb. I, you shall find me constant. I, for that was always heavier then's whole body beside So does not mine, Love's resolute; and stands not to consult With petty terror; but in full carrier Runs blindfold through and Army of misdoubts, And interposing fears; perhaps I'll weep Or so, make a forced face and laugh again. All this I know. But yet my love to thee Swallows all this; or whatsoever doubts Can come against it. Shame's but a feather balanced with thy love. No, I'de mall it down again with this. She snatches up the crow. Nay, then I'll assay my strength; a Soldier and a arrayed of a dead man? A soft-r'ode milksop? come I'll doot my self. No, I'll not loose the glory ant. This hand, &c. Content your self, 'tis in a fitter hand. Ill-destin'd wife of a transformed monster; Who to assure him self of what he knew, Hath lost the shape of man. Poor Soldiers case; do not we know you Sir? But I have given thee what thou camest to seek. Go Satire, run affrighted with the noise Of that harsh sounding horn thy self hast blown, Farewell; I leave thee there my Husbands Corpse, Make much of that. Exit. cum Er.