Page:The Tragedy of the Duchesse of Malfy (1623).pdf/75

 To a young Gentle-man.

Exec. Here's your wedding Ring.

Car. Let me but speake with the Duke: I'll discover Treason to his person.

Bos. Delayes: throttle-her.

Exec. She bites: and scratches:

Car. If you kill me now I am damn'd: I have not bin at Confession This two yeeres:

Bos. When.

Car. I am quicke with child.

Bos. Why then, Your credit's sav'd: beare her in toth' next roome: Let this lie still.

Ferd. Is she dead?

Bos. Shee is what You'll'd have her: But here begin your pitty, Alas, how have these offended?

Ferd. The death Of young Wolffes, is never to be pittied.

Bos. Fix your eye here:

Ferd. Constantly.

Bos. Doe you not weepe? Other sinnes, onely speake; Murther shreikes out: The Element of water, moistens the Earth, But blood flies upwards, and bedewes the Heavens.

Ferd. Cover her face: Mine eyes dazell she di'd yong.

Bos. I thinke not so: her infelicitie Seem'd to have yeeres too many.

Ferd. She, and I were Twinnes: And should I die this instant, I had liv'd Her Time to a Mynute.

Bos. It seemes she was borne first: You have bloodely approv'd the auncient truth, That kindred commonly doe worse agree Then remote strangers.

Ferd. Let me see her face againe; Why didst not thou pitty her: what an excellent Honest man, might'st thou have bin If thou hadst borne her to some Sanctuary?