Page:Works of Sir John Suckling.djvu/282

262 Myself th' unfortunate cause.

Bren. O, d'you so? Hadst thou been cause of all the plagues

That vex mankind, thou'dst been an innocent

To what thou art: thou shalt not think repentance.

Iph. O, thou wert too sudden, and

Bren. Was I so?

The lustful youth would sure have spoil'd her honour;

Which finding highly guarded, rage, and fear

To be reveal'd, counsell'd this villainy.

Is there no more of them?

Alm. Not enter?

Yes, dog, through thee! Ha! a corpse laid out,

Instead of Iphigene! Francelia dead too!

Where shall I begin to curse?

Bren. Here, if he were thy friend!

Alm. Brennoralt!

A gallant sword could ne'er have come

In better time.

Bren. I have a good one for thee,

If that will serve the turn.

Alm. I long to try it. That sight doth make me desperate;

Sick of myself and the world.

Bren. Didst value him?

A greater villain did I never kill.

Alm. Kill?

Bren. Yes.

Alm. Art sure of it?

Bren. Maybe, I do not wake.

Alm. Th'ast taken then

A guilt off from me, would have weigh'd down my sword,

Weak'ned me to low resistance:

I should have made no sports, hadst thou conceal'd it.

Know, Brennoralt, thy sword is stain'd in excellence,

Great as the world could boast.

Bren. Ha, ha!

How thou'rt abus'd! Look there, there lies the excellence

Thou speak'st of! Murd'red: by him too; he did