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Fair, wicked woman, not the matchless joys
Of life itself, had made me wish to live
With any saint but thee: deceitful creature,
How hast thou mock'd my hopes, and in the

Of thy lewd womb even buried me alive!
I did too dearly love thee.

Vas. This is well; follow this temper with some passion; be brief and moving, 'tis for the [Aside to SOR.


Sor. Be witness to my words thy soul and


And tell me, didst not think that in my heart
I did too superstitiously adore thee?

Ann. I must confess, I know you lov'd me well.
Sor. And would'st thou use me thus! O Anna-


Be thou assured, whoe'er the villain was

That thus hath tempted thee to this disgrace,
Well he might lust, but never loved like me.
He doated on the picture that hung out
Upon thy cheeks, to please his humorous eye;
Not on the part I lov'd, which was thy heart,
And, as I thought, thy virtues.

Ann. O, my lord!

These words wound deeper than your sword could do.

Vas. Let me not ever take comfort, but I begin to weep myself, so much I pity him; why, madam, I knew, when his rage was over-past, what it would come to.


Sor. Forgive me, Annabella: though thy youth Hath tempted thee above thy strength to folly, Yet will I not forget what I should be, And what I am, a husband; in that name Is hid divinity: if I do find

That thou wilt yet be true, here I remit

All former faults, and take thee to my bosom. Vas. By my troth, and that's a point of noble charity.

Ann. Sir, on my knees

Sor. Rise up, you shall not kneel.

Get you to your chamber, see you make no shew Of alteration; I'll be with you straight:

My reason tells me now, that " 'tis as common. To err in frailty as to be a woman."

Go to your chamber.

[Exit ANN.

Vas. So! this was somewhat to the matter: what do you think of your heaven of happiness now, sir?

Sor. I carry hell about me, all my blood Is fired in swift revenge.

Vas. That may be; but know you how, or on whom? Alas! to marry a great woman, being made great in the stock to your hand, is a usual sport in these days; but to know what ferret it was' that hunted your coney-burrow,-there is the cunning.

to know what ferret it was.] This is the ingenious emendation of Dodsley. The 4to reads secret; and it may be conjectured that the substantive which probably followed it has been lost. The present reading, however, leaves nothing to regret.

Sor. I'll make her tell herself, or

Vas. Or what? you must not do so; let me yet persuade your sufferance a little while: go to her, use her mildly; win her, if it be possible, to a voluntary, to a weeping tune; for the rest, if all hit, I will not miss my mark. Pray, sir, go in; the next news I tell you shall be wonders. Sor. Delay in vengeance gives a heavier blow. [Exit.

Vas. Ah, sirrah, here's work for the nonce! I had a suspicion of a bad matter in my head a pretty while ago; but after my madam's scurvy looks here at home, her waspish perverseness, and loud fault-finding, then I remembered the proverb, that "where hens crow, and cocks hold their peace, there are sorry houses." "Sfoot, if the lower parts of a she-tailor's cunning can cover such a swelling in the stomach, I'll never blame a false stitch in a shoe whilst I live again. Up, and up so quick? and so quickly too? 'twere a fine policy to learn by whom this must be known; and I have thought on't

Enter PUTANA, in tears.

Here's the way, or none.-What, crying, old mistress! alas, alas, I cannot blame you; we have a lord, Heaven help us, is so mad as the devil himself, the more shame for him.

Put. O Vasques, that ever I was born to see this day! Doth he use thee so too, sometimes, Vasques?

Vas. Me? why he makes a dog of me; but if some were of my mind, I know what we would do. As sure as I am an honest man, he will go near to kill my lady with unkindness: say she be with child, is that such a matter for a young woman of her years to be blamed for?

Put. Alas, good heart, it is against her will full


Vas. I durst be sworn, all his madness is for that she will not confess whose 'tis, which he will know; and when he doth know it, I am so well acquainted with his humour, that he will forget all strait: well, I could wish she would in plain terms tell all, for that's the way, indeed.

Put. Do you think so? Vas. Foh, I know it; win her to it by force.

provided that he did not

He was once in a mind that you could tell, and meant to have wrung it out of you; but I somewhat pacified him from that; yet sure you know a great deal.

Put. Heaven forgive us all! I know a little, Vasques.

Vas. Why should you not? who else should? Upon my conscience she loves you dearly; and you would not betray her to any affliction for the world.

Put. Not for all the world, by my faith and troth, Vasques.

Vas. Twere pity of your life if you should; but in this you should both relieve her present discomforts, pacify my lord, and gain yourself everlasting love and preferment.

. Put. Dost think so, Vasques?

Vas. Nay, I know it; sure it was some near and entire friend.

Put. 'Twas a dear friend indeed; but

Vas. But what? fear not to name him; my life between you and danger: 'faith, I think it was no base fellow.

Put. Thou wilt stand between me and harm? Vas. U'ds pity, what else? you shall be rewarded too, trust me.

Put. "Twas even no worse than her own brother.

Vas. Her brother Giovanni, I warrant you!

Put. Even he, Vasques; as brave a gentleman as ever kiss'd fair lady. O they love most perpetually.

Vas. A brave gentleman indeed! why therein I commend her choice-better and better-[Aside.] You are sure 'twas he?

Put. Sure; and you shall see he will not be long from her too.

Vas. He were to blame if he would; but may I believe thee?

Put. Believe me! why, dost think I am a Turk or a Jew? No, Vasques, I have known their dealings too long, to belie them now.

Vas. Where are you? there, within, sirs!

Enter BANDitti.

Put. How now, what are these?

3 Enter banditti.] It may appear singular, that Vasques should have a body of assassins awaiting his call; before he had any assu

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