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Twas not don well to brand my spotles name With Infamy; but to deride me is Inhumaine, when I only come to tell you Ile send my prayers on charities white wings To heaven for your prosperity. You greive For what? for your deliverance from a strumpet? Bon. No, but that my raving fancy should direct My trecherous tongue with that detested name To afflict thy unblemishd purity, Belisea.
Where is she? Who? Clariana? Ma. The faire Belisea. Enter Clariana. Cla. Did you call me, madam. Lady. Noe: were you soe neere? begon againe, Yet stay. Maudlin, avoid the Roome, and if you see Mr. Thurston, entreat him hither. Clariana, you did what I comanded? Cla. Yes, on my Soule. Lady. Cla.
Nay, slight it not: the dismall ravens noate Or mandrakes screches, to a long-sick man Is not so ominous as the heareing of it Will be to you; 'twill like a frost congeale Your lively heate, yet it must out, our frendship Forbids concealment. Bon. Do not torture me; Ime resolute to heare it. Tho. Your soe admired Mistress Who parted from you now, Belisea, Bon.
Lov. She turnes againe. Sir Gef. Certainly, Madam, I can see no cause Wherefore at first you might not, without putting My Knighthood to this trouble, have matched with me Your selfe; it had been somewhat fitter. Enter Belisea and Clariana. Bel. Are these fooles here? Lady. Bel. I hope they cannot blame us, we have usd them With that respect our modesties allowd. Lady.
No creature else Could have inducd me to such a madnes. Bel. My disgrace Was wrong sufficient to tempt mercie, yet Cause twas my owne I pardond it; but this Inferd toth piety of my guiltless mother Stops all indulgence. Bon. Will you not heare me out? Bel. Bon. Contempt repaid with scorne; tis my desert; Poyson soone murders a love wounded heart. Enter Belisea, Clariana and Thorowgood. Bel.
What witch had duld my sense That such a stuped Lethurgie should sease My intellectuall faculties they could not Perceive this drift! If she be virtuous, As no man but an heretick to truth Would have imagind, how shall I excuse My slanderous malice? my old fire renewes And in an instant with its scortching flames Burnes all suspicon up. Enter Belisea. Bel. Peace attend you. Bon.
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