University of Virginia Library

Scena 9a.

Calidor. Florimond.
Cal.
Are these the Mariage Nights in Corsica?
O Florimond how Loath I am to thinke
Thou art a Deuil! Prithee Draw thy Sword
That I may doe thy fflesh a Courtesy
In ridding it of Such a filthy Soule.

Flor.
Most noble ffriend (for I must Call you soe
What ere you say to mee) I haue offended,
Forgiue mee, and the Queene, whose Raging Loue
Swore mee unto this Infidelity
Of the gods, and their justice

Cal.
Flatter the Beare
With honey when th'hast robb'd her of her Whelpe«s»
Or take the Angry Lyon by the Paw
When thou hast prick't him; but my Noble Rage
Is not to be Deluded. Wicked Man
To kill with freindship! Is it possible
The Temple of the gods should proue a Stewes
For Pandarisme and falshood? Draw, that I
May send thee straight to Hell

Flor.
There's none Worse
Then this I beare about mee

Cal.
Friendship! nothing
But a meere Stale to Couzen fooles wt hall!
O that I knew but whose this Bastard [was] is!—
But I must turne to thee, thou false Seducer,
And Search thy Heart for him. I prithee Draw.

Flor.
Putt off your Doublet first

Cal.
With as good a Will
As I would not my fflesh

As Cal: is putting off his Doublett Flor. runnes away.
Flor.
Farewell for Euer.