University of Virginia Library

Scena 7a.

Ariste. Achæe. Florimond.
At sight of «Ariste» Florimond would Kill himselfe
Aris.
Neuer kill your selfe fort.
O Madam, what a Swarme of Sinnes are here?
See the God's Iustice! Most ungracious Wretch
Looke where the [Lust] ffruite of thy black Lust Lyes buried
Poore Infant Killd wt h last nights Cold & Trauaile.

Ach.
Thou art too Cruell. Cease. it is Enough.
Looke up. I pardon thee with all my Heart,
And will pray that the Gods may

Flo.
Tis impossible.

Ach.
Tis not.

Flo.
O Heauen!

Ach.
Rise up. Ile kisse thee.
Prithee Looke at mee. Florimond!

Flor.
Doe not Add
unto my Punishments by Being Kind.

Ach.
Why thou shalt Marrie mee to make Amends

Flor.
How is it possible you are not Perisht!
O take my Cloake and keepe you warme said you not
My Little Infant here was Buried
Let mee Creepe to it. I will make my Way
Through the Dust with my Teares. ye Dust is Kinder
Then my Armes. Let mee yett