University of Virginia Library

Scena 10

Calidor.
Cal.
Stay Coward, for my Uengeance is too Swift
For thee to fly from—The Dore Bolted After him!
How much too Cunning is the World for Honesty!
Wee Lay our Sleeping Soules upon the Grasse
And thinke there is noe Serpents. What a Wrong's this?
O why did Neptune Spew mee on this Shore
To find a Worse Sea here? But Come my Sword
Thou art not false yett: ffree mee from this Shame
As thou hast oft from Danger, and I'l need
Noe «other» Epitaph, nor Monument.
Thou art the Wretches Helpe, & the Phisitian
To the most Desperate, but to mee the ffriend,
That when the World shall finde us, will be Crept
Into my Bosome—The Earth still deceiues mee.
But this for all. Agen! Ha! then my Sword,
«H»e offers to fall upon his Sword, and it Slippes from him.
I doe perceiue thou art a Loyall Seruant,
And wilt not kill thy Master. Be it Soe;
Thou doest Admonish well; It is not Uertue
To fly from, But to Conquer Shame, and ffortune