Page:The Tragedy of the Duchesse of Malfy (1623).pdf/94

 How ever, fare you well: Though in our miseries, Fortune have a part, Yet, in our noble suffrings, she hath none, Contempt of paine, that we may call our owne. Card. You shall not watch to night by the sicke Prince, His grace is very well recover'd.

Mal. Good my Lord suffer us.

Card. Oh, by no meanes: The noyse, and change of object in his eye, Doth more distract him: I pray, all to bed, And though you heare him in his violent fit, Do not rise, I intreate you.

Pesc. So sir, we shall not,

Card. Nay, I must have you promise Upon your honors, for I was enjoin'd to't By himselfe; and he seem'd to urge it sencibly.

Pesc. Let our honors bind this trifle.

Card. Nor any of your followers.

Mal. Neither.

Card. It may be to make trial of your promise When he's a sleep, my selfe will rise, and faigne Some of his mad trickes, and crie out for helpe, And faigne my selfe in danger.

Mal. If your throate were cutting, I'll'd not come at you, now I have protested against it.

Card. Why, I thanke you.

Gris. 'Twas a foul storme to night.

Rod. The Lord Ferdinand's chamber, shooke like an Ozier.

Mal. 'Twas nothing but pure kindnesse in the Divell, To rocke his owne child.

Card. The reason why I would not suffer these