University of Virginia Library

Scen. VII.

Enter Orestes, Pylades, with naked rapiers.
Orest.
My Fury leaues me, now I'me at my last,
And now me thinks thou truely art a friend,
Now with vndaunted spirit preuent my griefe,
And let thy rapier drinke blood greedily,
As if it lou'd it, cause it is thy friend,
Now rid me of my woe, thy friendly vow,
Neuer did truely shew it selfe till now:

Pyl.
Why then deare friend I thus erect this arme,
And will be strong to thee, as thou to me,
Wee'll looke vpon our deathes with better face,
Then others doe on life; come Tyndarus, see,
We scorne to liue when all our friends are dead,
Nor shall thy Fury make base famine be
The executioner to my dearest friend,
Whilst I can kill him, therefore spight of thee,
Wee'll free our selues past all calamity,

Orest.
Yes Pylades, we will beguile our time,
And make him search through euery nooke a'th world,
If he in all his race can euer spie,
Two that like vs did liue, like vs did die:
But we delay our death, now brauely come,
And the last parting word shall be strike home.

they run at one another run again
Pyl.
O brauely rstook deare friend yet once again.

Orst.
Yes at one thrust two friends must not be slain,
O, how I loue these wounds, heauen dropping showers,
When the outragious dogge makes clouds of dust
Vpon the thirsty earth, come not more sweet,
Then the blest streames of blood, thy rapier raines.
Hence weapon: for my loynes now scorne all props,
But my friends armes, O, beare good leggs a while,
The weight of murder sits vpon my soule,
And bends my staggering ioynts vnto the earth.

Pyl.
Haste, haste, I faint, but O, yet let my strength
Be Atlas to sustaine the falling world;
Breath, breath sweet vapours of two trusty hearts,
And let our breaths ascend to heauen before,
To make a roome hard by the frozen pole,
Where that our winged soules shall mount and sit,
More glorious then the Concubines of Ioue,
Wreath'd with a crowne of rich enamel'd starres,
Leauing all ages to deplore our death:
That friendships abstract perish with our breath:

Orest.
Fly thou best part of man, where Hecate
Borne on the swarthy shoulders of the Euen,
Sits in a groue of oakes, till gray eye'd morne,
Bids her to throw off nights blacke Canopie.

Pyl.
Wil't die before me? Stay, stay, I come.

Orest.
O graspe me then, our names like Gemini,
Shall make new starres for to adorne the skie.
Is thy breath gone?

Pyl.
O, yes, 'tis almost past,
Then both together, thus wee'll breath our last.

They fall downe dead, embracing each other.