University of Virginia Library

Scæna prima.

Enter Leontius, and Celia.
Leo.
I know he do's not deserve ye; h'as us'd ye poorely:
And to redeeme himselfe—

Cel.
Redeeme?

Leo.
I know it—
There's no way left:

Cel.
For heavens sake doe not name him.
Doe not thinke on him sir, he's so far from me
In all my thoughts now, methinkes I never knew him.

Leo.
But yet I would see him againe.

Cel.
No, never, never.

Leo.
I doe not meane to lend him any comfort;
But to afflict him, so to torture him;
That even his very soule may shake within him:
To make him know, though he be great and powerfull,
'Tis not within his aime to deale dishonourably,
And carry it off, and with a maid of your sort.

Cel.
I most confesse, I could most spightfully afflict him;
Now, now, I could whet my anger at him;
Now, arm'd with bitternesse, I could shoot through him;
I long to vex him:

Leo.
And doe it home, and bravely:

Cel.
Were I a man?

Leo.
Ile helpe that weakenesse in ye:
I honour ye, and serve ye.

Cel.
Not onely to disclaime me,
When he had seal'd his vowes in heaven, sworne to me,
And poore beleeving I became his servant:
But most maliciously to brand my credit,
Staine my pure name.

Leo.
I would not suffer it:
See him I would againe, and to his teeth too:
Od's precious, I would ring him such a lesson—

Cel.
I have done that already.

Leo.
Nothing, nothing:
It was too poore a purge; besides, by this time
He has found his fault, and feeles the hells that follow it.
That, and your urg'd on anger to the highest.
Why, 'twill be such a stroake—

Cel.
Say he repent then,
And seeke with teares to soften, I am a woman;
A woman that have lov'd him, sir, have honour'd him:
I am no more.

Leo.
Why, you may deale thereafter.

Cel.
If I forgive him, I am lost.

Leo.
Hold there then,
The sport will be to what a poore submission—
But keepe you strong.

Cel.
I would not see him.

Leo.
Yes,
You shall ring his knell:

Cel.
How if I kill him?

Leo.
Kill him: why, let him dye.

Cel.
I know 'tis fit so.
But why should I that lov'd him once, destroy him?
O had he scap't this sin, what a brave Gentleman—

Leo.
I must confesse, had this not falne, a nobler,
A handsomer, the whole world had not show'd ye:
And to his making such a mind.

Cel.
'Tis certaine:
But all this I must now forget.

Leo.
You shall not
If I have any art: goe up sweet Lady,
And trust my truth.

Cel.
But good sir bring him not.

Leo.
I would not for the honour ye are born too,
But you shall see him, and neglect him too, and scorn him.

Cel.
You will be neere me then.

Leo.
I will be with ye;
Yet ther's some hope to stop this gap, ile work hard.

Exe.