Page:The maid's tragedy (IA maidstragedy00beau 0).pdf/72

60 But stay not, lest thou draw a timeless death Upon thyself.

Asp.Thou art some prating fellow; One, that hath studied out a trick to talk, And move softhearted people; to be kicked [She kicks him Thus, to be kick'd!—Why should he be so slow In giving me my death? [Aside.

Amin.A man can bear No more, and keep his flesh. Forgive me, then! I would endure yet, if I could. Now show [Draws. The spirit thou pretend'st, and understand, Thou hast no hour to live.—— [They fight; Aspatia is wounded. Thou hast no hour to live.—— What dost thou mean? Thou canst not fight: the blows thou mak'st at me Are quite besides; and those I offer at thee, Thou spread'st thine arms, and tak'st upon thy breast, Alas, defenceless!

Asp.I have got enough, And my desire. There is no place so fit For me to die as here. Enter EVADNE, her Hands bloody, with a Knife.

Evad.Amintor, I am loaden with events, That fly to make thee happy. I have joys, That in a moment can call back thy wrongs, And settle thee in thy free state again. It is Evadne still that follows thee, But not her mischiefs.

Amin.Thou canst not fool me to believe again; But thou hast looks and things so full of news, That I am stay'd.

Evad.Noble Amintor, put off thy amaze, Let thine eyes loose, and speak: Am I not fair? Looks not Evadne beauteous, with these rites now Were those hours half so lovely in thine eyes, When our hands met before the holy man? I was too foul within to look fair then: Since I knew ill, I was not free till now.

Amin.There is presage of some important thing About thee, which, it seems, thy tongue hath lost. Thy hands are bloody, and thou hast a knife!

Evad.In this consists thy happiness and mine. Joy to Amintor! for the king is dead.

Amin.Those have most power to hurt us, that we love; We lay our sleeping lives within their arms! Why, thou hast raised up Mischief to his height, And found out one, to out-name thy other faults. Thou hast no intermission of thy sins, But all thy life is a continued ill. Black is thy colour now, disease thy nature. Joy to Amintor! Thou hast touch'd a life, The