University of Virginia Library

Scena. 5.

Gayler, Andrugio.
Gay.
Andrugio, as you loue our liues, forthwith post you away.
For Gods sake to no lyuing friend, your safety yet bewraye:
The prouerbe sayth, two may keepe counsell if that one be gone.

An.
Assure thy selfe, most faithful friend, I wylbe knowne to none:
To none alas, I see my scape yeeldes mee but small releefe,
Cassandra, and Polina wyll destroye themselues, with greefe:
Through thought yt I am dead: they dead, to liue what helpeth me?

Gay.
Leaue of these plaints of smal auaile, thank God yt you are free,
For God it was, within my mind, that did your safety moue,
And that same God, no doubt wyl worke for your and their behoue:

An.
Most faithful friend, I hope that God, wyl worke as you do say,
And therfore, to some place vnknowne, I wyl my selfe conuaye.
Gayler, fare wel: for thy good deede, I must remayne thy debter,
In meane whyle yet receyue this gyft, tyll fortune sends a better.

Gay.
God bwy syr, but kepe your mony, your need you do not know.

An.
I pas not now for fortuns threats, yea though hir force she show
And therefore styck not to receyue this smale reward in part.

Gay.
I wyll not sure, such proffers leaue, tys time you doe depart.

An.
Since so thou wilt, I wylbe gone adue tyl fortune smile.

Exit.
Gay.
Syr, fare you wel, I wyl not fayle to pray for you the while.
Well, I am glad, that I haue sent him gone,
For by my fayth, I lyu'd in perlous feare:
And yet God wot, to see his bytter mone,
When he should dye, would force a man forbeare,
From harming him, if pitty might beare sway:
But see how God hath wrought for his safety?
A dead mans head, that suffered th'other day,
Makes him thou'ht dead, through out the citie.
Such a iust, good and righteous God is he:
Although awhyle he let the wicked raygne,
Yet he releeues, the wretch in misery,
And in his pryde, he throwes the tyraunt downe.
I vse these wordes, vpon this onely thought,
That Promos long his rod can not escape:
Who hath in thought, a wylfull murder wrought,
Who hath in act performd a wicked rape,
Gods wyll be done, who well Andrugio speede,
Once well I hope, to heare of his good lucke,
For God thou knowest my conscience dyd this deede,
And no desire of any worldly muck.

Exit.