 | The Jealous Lovers |  |
SCEN. VII.
Tyndarus, Techmessa.Tyn.
Here was a strange deliverance! who can be
So confident of fortune, as to say,
I now am safe?
Tech.
This villain has reveal'd
All our designes to Pamphilus and Evadne:
And they with bribes and hopes of an inheritance,
If you were dead indeed, have won this rascall
To this black treason.—What foul crimes can Lust
Prompt her base vassals to!—Here let us end
Our busie search, and travell o're the world,
To see if any cold and Northern climat
Have entertain'd lost Vertue, long since fled
Our warmer countrey.
Tyn.
Ha!—'Tis so!—'Tis so!
67
And are you brooding crocodiles? I may chance
To break the serpents egge, e're you have hatch'd
The viper to perfection. Come Techmessa,
My anger will no longer be confin'd
To patient silence: Tedious expectation
Is but a foolish fire by night, that leads
The traveller out on's way.—Break forth, my wrath:
Break like a deluge of consuming fire,
And scorch 'um both to ashes, in a flame
Hot as their lust.—No:—'Tis too base a bloud
For me to spill.—Let 'um e'ne live t' ingender
A brood of monsters:—May perpetuall jealousie
Wait on their beds, and poyson their embraces
With just suspicions: may their children be
Deform'd, and fright the mother at the birth:
May they live long, and wretched; all mens hate,
And yet have misery enough for pity:
May they be long a dying—of diseases
Painfull, and loathsome:—Passion, do not hurrie me
To this unmanly womanish revenge.
Wilt thou curse Tyndarus when thou wear'st a sword?
But ha, heark, observe!—
| The Jealous Lovers | |