University of Virginia Library

Scea. pria.

Enter Sebastian, & Aberzanes.
Seb.
You are Wellcom Sir,

Ab.
J thinck J'am worthie on't
for looke you (Sir,) J come vn-trust. (in troth)

Seb.
the more's the pitty: (honester Men goe to't)
that Slaves should scape it: What Blade haue you got there?

Ab.

Nay, J know not that (Sir) J am not acquainted greatly
with the Blade; J am sure 'tis a good Scabbard, and that
satisfies me,

An.
'tis long enough indeed, yf that be good.

Ab.
J love to Weare a long-Weapon: 'tis a thing com̄endable

An.
J pray draw it, Sir.

Ab.
Jt is not to be drawne.

An.
Not to be drawne?

Ab.
J doe not Care to see't: to tell you troth Sir,
'tis onely a Hollyday thing, to weare by a mans side

An.
draw it, or J'll rip thee downe from Neck to Navill
though there's small glory in't.

Ab.
are you in earnest, Sir?

An.
J'll tell thee that anon.

Ab.
why, what's the matter Sir?

An.
What a base misery is this in life now.
This Slave had so much daring Courage in him
to Act a syn would shame whole Generations,
but hath not so much honest strength about him
to draw a Sword, in way of Satisfaction.
this showes thy great Guilt, that thou dare'st not fight

Ab.
yes: J dare fight (Sir) in an honest Cause.

An.
why come then (Slave) thou'st made my Sister a Whore.

Ab.
prove that an honest Cause, and J'll be hangd.

An.
so many starting-holes? Can J light no way?
goe-too, you shall haue your wish; all honest play.
Come-forth thou fruitfull Wickednes: thou seed
of Shame, and Murder, Take to thee in Wedlock
Basenes, and Cowardize: a fitt Match for thee.
Come Sir, along with me

Ab.
'las: What to doe
J am too yong to take a wiffe, in troth.

An.
but old enough to take a Strumpet, though:
you'll'd fayne get all Your Children before-hand,
and marry, when y'haue don: that's a strange course Sir,
This woman J bestow on thee: what do'st thou say.

Ab.
J would J had such an other to bestow on You, Sir

An.
vncharitable Slave: Dog: Coward as thou art
to wish a plague so great as thine, to any.

Ab.
to my frend Sir, where J thinck J may be bold

An.
downe; and do't sollempnely: Contract yourselues.
With truth, and zeale, or nere rise vp agen:
J will not haue her die i'th'state of Strumpet
though she tooke pride to live-one: Hermio the Wine

Her.
'tis here Sir: 'troth, J wonder at some things,
but J'll keepe honest.

An.
Soe: hee'rs to you both now.
and to your Joies, if 't be your luck to find 'em,
J tell you, you must weep hard, if you doe:
devide it 'twixt you both: You shall not need
a strong Bill of Divorcement after that
yf you mislike your Bargaine: Goe, get-in, now,
kneele, and pray hartely to get forgivenes
of those two Soules, whose Bodies thou hast murderd:
Spread subtle Poyson. Now my Shame in her
will dye, when J dye: ther's some comfort yet
J doe but thinck how each mans punishment
proves still a kind of Justice to himself
J was the Man, that told this Jnocent Gentlewoman
(whom J did falcely wedd, and falcely kill)
That he that was her Husband first, by Contract
was slayne i'th'feild; and he's knowne yet to live.
So did J cruelly beguile her hart
for which J'am well rewarded: so is Gasper
who, to befrend my Love, swore fearefull othes,
he saw the last Breath fly from him. J see now
'tis a thing dreadfull t'abuse holy Vowes
and falls most weightie

Her.
take Comfort Sir,
You'r guilty of no death: they're onely hurt,
and that not mortally

An.
thou breath'st vntruthes,

—Enter Gaspero
Her.
Speake Gasper, for me then.

Gas.
Your vniust Rage, Sir
has hurt me, without cause.

An.
'tis changd to Greif fo't.
how fares my wiffe.

Gas.
No doubt Sir, She fares well.
for She neu'r felt your fury: The poore Sinner
that hath this seaven yeere, kept herself sound for you
'tis your luck to bring her into th'Surgeons hands now.

An.
Florida.

Gas.
She; J know no other, Sir,
You were neu'r at charge yet, but with one Light-horse

An.
why wher's your Lady? wher's my wiffe to night then

Gas.
nay ask not me, Sir; your struck-Doa within
tells a strange tale of her

An.
this is vnsufferable
Never had man such meanes to make him mad.
Oh, that the Poyson, would but spare my life
till J had found her out.

Her.
your wish is graunted Sir,
vpon the faithfullnes of a pittying Servant
J gaue you none at all; my hart was kinder,
Let not Conceyt abuse you, you'r as healthfull
(for any drug,) as life yet ever found you.

An.
why heer's a happines, wipes of mightie Sorrowes
—Enter L. Gouernor.
the benefit of ever-pleasing Service
blesse thy profession. Oh my worthie Lord
J'haue an ill Bargaine: Never man had worsse
the Woman that (vnworthie) weares your Blood
to countenance Syn in her: your Neice; she's falce,

Gou.
Falce?

An.
Jmpudent-adulterous.

Gou.
you'r too lowd,
—Enter Florida
and grow too bold too, with her Vertuous Meekenes,
who dare accuse-her.

Flo.
heer's one dare and can:
she lyes this night with Celio, her owne Seruant,
the Place Fernando's house.

Gou.
thou do'st amaze vs.

An.
why heere's but Lust translated from one Basenes
into an other; heere J thought to haue caught 'em,
but lighted wrong, by falce Jntelligence
and made me hurt the Jnocent: But now
J'll make my Revenge dreadfuller then a Tempest,
an Army should not stop me', or a Sea
devide 'em from my Revenge.

—Exit
Gou.
J'll not speake
to haue her sparde, if she be base, and guilty.
yf otherwies, heaven will not see her wrongd,
J need not take care for her: Let that Woman
be carefully lookd to, (both for health, and surenes,)
it is not that mistaken wound, thou wearst
shalbe thy priviledge

Flo.
you cannot torture me
worsse then the Surgeon dos: so long J care not.
Yf she be adulterous J will neuer trust
Vertues in Women, they'r but Veyles for lust.

—Exit
Her.
to what a lasting Ruine, mischeif Runs,
J had thought J had well, and happely ended all
in keeping back the poyson, and new rage now
spreads a worsse Venom; My poore Lady greives me,
'tis strange to me, that her sweet seeming Vertues
should be so meanely over-tooke with Celio,
a Seruant, 'tis not possible

—Enter Jsabella & Sebastian
Js.
good morrow Hermio
my Sister stirring yet?

Her.
how? stirring forsooth:
here has byn simple stirring: Are you not hurt Madam:
pray speake, we haue a Surgeon ready.

Js.
how a Surgeon?

Her.
hath byn at work theis five howres.

Js.
how he talkes.

Her.
did you not meete my Master.

Js.
how your Master? why came he home to night?

Her.
then know you nothing, Madam
please you but walk in, you shall heare strange busines

Js.
J'am much beholding to your Truth now, am J not?
y'haue seru'd me faire: my creadit's staind for ever—.

Ext
Seb.
this is the wickedst fortune, that ere blewe.
Wee're both vndon, for nothing: ther's no way
flatters Recovery now; the Thing's so grosse
her disgrace greives me more, then a liffes losse

—Exit.