University of Virginia Library

Scena XIII.

Enter by him Fancie in a Turbant, Fuga, after a while Musitian, Desperato.
Fan.
—Now in my Turkish Turbant
I walk to find Sir Amorous in his heaven.
Be not so deeply discontented Fuga.

Fug.
Unlesse you cleare me openly, I die.

Fan.
I finde you Amorous somewhat neare your Center.
Your Morphe fittest is to be a Queen.
I go to waite on her, and fetch her home
With me.

Am.
Sweet Soul (that's all she is by this)
I cannot tell you in what world sheis,
Nor where I am my selfe.

Fan.
And why?

Am.
She's dying,
Frighted with such a dismal accident,
That when I tell it, I much fear your highnesse
Will be as weak as she.

Fan.
Speak, I am arm'd.
Where's Livebyhope?

Am.
The same I faine would know:
Last when I saw him, he was laid for dead.

Fan.
How dead?

Am.
Tis so. Just now: not far from hence,
Two bloody Villaines, Audax and Irato,
Persued and sped him with two mortal wounds.
I ran to help; Morphe fell in a Sownd;
I bore her hence; mean while his Corps were gone.

Fan.
I am perplext beyond my power of bearing.
My arme is lopt, my Kingdom is all tumult
The Passions taking vantage of my Law,
Follow their humours to their mutual ruine;
Enter Mus. with Desp. Am. seems to talk with him.
And run like Vessels till they quite run out.

Am.
Mix some ingredient to excite her Love.
Doctor, thou shalt be rich.

Desp.
I'le fit you all.
Morphe for physick sends, Malevolo
Hath purchas'd me long since to give her poyson;
Sir Amorous buyes a Love-pill: I my selfe,
Ev'n I, that will be Master in conclusion,
Intend to mix them all: then fight confusion.
(Ex. Desp.