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Beaumont and Fletcher's Works, Vol. 07 of 10 cover

Beaumont and Fletcher's Works, Vol. 07 of 10

Chapter 83: Scæna Secunda.
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About This Book

This volume gathers five early modern stage plays that move between romantic comedy and brisk farce, unfolding interlaced plots of courtship, rivalry, and social complication. Dramatic strategies such as disguise, mistaken identity, nocturnal plotting, and rapid comedic reversals drive laughter while probing questions of honor and desire. An editorial text and notes accompany the plays to clarify variant readings, punctuation, and stage business for readers and performers.

But I shall pump ye anon, Sir.
Isab. Oh my Bartello.
Bart. Ye pretty Rogue; you little Rogue, you sweet Rogue,
Away Penurio, go and walk i'th' Horse-Fair.
Isab. You do not love me?
Bart. Thou liest, thou little rascal;
There sirrah, to your Centry.
Pen. How the Colt itches.
I'll help ye to a Curry-comb shall claw ye. [Exit.
Isab. And how much dost thou love me?
Bart. Let's go in quickly,
I'll tell thee presently, I'll measure it to thee.
Isab. No busses first? sit o' my knee, my brave boy,
My valiant boy; do not look so fiercely on me,
Thou wilt fright me with thy face; come buss again Chick,
Smile in my face you mad thing.
Bart. I am mad indeed wench,
Precious, I am all o' fire.
Isab. I'll warm thee better.
Bar. I'll warm thee too, or I'll blow out my bellows;
Ha, ye sweet rogue, you loving rogue, a boy now,
A Soldier I will get shall prove a fellow.

Enter Jaquenet and Penurio.

Jaq. Mistriss, look to your self, my Master's coming.
Bar. The devil come, and go with him.
Pen. The devil's come indeed, he brings your wife, Sir.
Isab. We are undone, undone then.
Bar. My wife with him?
Why this is a dismal day.
Pen. They are hard by too, Sir.
Bar. I must not, dare not see her.
Isab. Nor my Husband,
For twenty thousand pound.
Bar. That I were a Cat now,
Or any thing could run into a Bench-hole,
Saint Anthonies Fire upon the rogue has brought her;
Where shall I be? just i'th' nick o'th' matter!
When I had her at my mercy! think for heaven sake,
My wife, all the wild furies hell has.
Pen. Up the Chimney.
Bar. They'll smoke me out there presently.
Isab. There, there, it must be there,
We are all undone else: it must be up the Chimney.
Bar. Give me a Ladder.
Isab. You must use your Art, Sir,
Alas, we have no Ladders.
Bar. Pox o'thy Husband,
Does he never mend his house?
Pen. No, nor himself neither:
Up nimbly, Sir, up nimbly.
Bar. Thou know'st I am fat,
Thou merciless lean rogue.
Pen. Will ye be kill'd?
For if he take ye—
Bar. Lend me thy shoulder.
Pen. Soft, Sir,
You'll tread my shoulder-bones into my sides else,
Have ye fast hold o'th' barrs?
Bar. A vengeance barr 'em.
Isab. Patience good Captain, Patience: quickly, quickly.
Bar. Do you think I am made of smoke?
Pen. Now he talks of smoke,
What if my Master should call for fire?
Bar. Will ye Martyr me?
Isab. He must needs have it.
Bar. Will ye make me Bacon?
Isab. We'll do the best we can, are all things ready?
Pen. All, all, I have 'em all.
[Isab.] Go let 'em in then,
Not a word now on your life.
Bar. I hang like a Meteor.

Enter Lopez and Rhodope.

Lop. You are welcome Lady.
Rho. You are too too courteous,
But I shall make amends, fair Isabella.
Isab. Welcome my worthy friend, most kindly welcome.
Rho. I hear on't, and I'll fit him for his foolery.
Lop. Some Sweet meats wife: some Sweet meats presently.
Bart. Oh my sowre sauce.
Lop. Away quick Isabella. [Exit Isab.
Did you hear him?
Rho. Yes, yes, perfectly, proceed, Sir.
Lop. Speak loud enough: Dare ye at length but pity me?
Rho. 'Faith Sir, you have us'd so many reasons to me,
And those so powerfully—
Lop. Keep this kiss for me.
Bar. And do I stand and hear this?
Rho. This for me, Sir,
This is some comfort now: Alas my Husband—
But why do I think of so poor a fellow,
So wretched, so debauch'd?
Bar. That's I, I am bound to hear it.
Rho. I dare not lye with him, he is so rank a Whoremaster.
Lop. And that's a dangerous point.
Rho. Upon my conscience, Sir,
He would stick a thousand base diseases on me.
Bar. And now must I say nothing.
Lop. I am sound Lady.
Rho. That's it that makes me love ye.
Lop. Let's kiss again then.
Rho. Do, do.
Bar. Do, the Devil
And the grand Pox do with ye.
Lop. Do ye hear him? well—

Enter Penurio and Isabella.

Now, what's the news with you?
Pen. The sound of War, Sir,
Comes still along: The Duke will charge the City,
We have lost they say.
Lop. What shall become of me then,
And my poor wealth?
Bar. Even hang'd, I hope.
Rho. Remove your Jewels presently,
And what you have of wealth into the Cittadel,
There all's secure.
Lop. I humbly thank ye Lady:
Penurio, get me some can climb the Chimney,
For there my Jewels are, my best, my richest,
I hid 'em, fearing such a blow.
Pen. Most happily:
I have two boys that use to sweep foul Chimneys,
Truly I brought 'em, Sir, to mock your worship,
For the great Fires ye keep, and the full Diet.
Lop. I forgive thee knave, where are they?
Pen. Here Sir, here:
Monsieur Black, will your small worship mount?

Enter two Boys.

1 Boy. Madam è be com to creep up into your Chimney, and make you

[Boy sings.

Cleane, as any Lady in de world: Ma litla, litla frera, and è,
Chanta, frere, chanta.
Pen. Come Monsieur, mountè, mountè, mount Monsieur Mustard-pot.

[Boy sings.

1 Boy. Monsieur è have dis for votra barba, ple ta vou Monsieur.
Pen. Mountà Monsieur, mountà dere be some fine tings.
1 Boy. [M]e will creep like de Ferret Monsieur.
Pen. Dere in the Chimney. [The Boy above singing.
1 Boy. He be de sheilde due shauson, Madam.

[Boy goes in behind the Arras.

Pen. There's a Bird's nest, I wou'd have ye climb it Monsieur,
Up my fine singing Monsieur: that's a fine Monsieur.
Lop. Watch him, he do not steal.
Pen. I warrant ye Sir.
Lop. These Boys are knavish.

[Boy within, Madam here be de Rat, de Rat, Madam.

Pen. I'll look to him ti[th]ly.
Lop. Lord, what comes here,
A walking apparition? [Boy sings upon Bartello's Shoulder.
Isab. Saint Christopher.
Rho. Mercy o' me, what is it?
How like my Husband it looks?
Bar. Get ye down devil,
I'll break your neck else: was ever man thus chimnied?
Lop. Go pay the boys well; see them satisfied.
Pen. Come Monsieur Devils, come my Black-berries
I'll butter ye o' both sides.

[Boy Exit [saying Adieu Madam, adieu Madam].

Isab. Nay, ev'n look Sir, are you cooled now, Captain?
Bar. I am cuckolled, and fool'd to boot too:
Fool'd fearfully, fool'd shamefully.
Lop. You are welcome Sir,
I am glad I have any thing within these doors Sir
To make ye merry: you love my wife, I thank ye.
You have shew'd your love.
Bar. Wife, am I this? this odd matter,
This monstrous thing?
Rho. You ought, but yet you are not:
I have been bold with you Sir, but yet not basely,
As I have faith I have not.
Lop. Sir, believe it,
'Twas all meant but to make you feel your trespass;
We knew your hour, and all this fashion'd for it.
Bar. Were you o'th' plot too?
Isab. Yes by my troth, sweet Captain.
Bar. You will forgive me wife?
Rho. You will deserve it?
Bar. Put that to th' venture.
Rho. Thus am I friends again then,
And as you ne'er had gone astray, thus kiss ye.
Bar. And I'll kiss you, and you too ask forgiveness,
Kiss my wife Lopez, 'tis but in jest remember;
And now all friends together to my Castle,
Where we'll all dine, and there discourse these stories,
And let him be Chimney-swept in's lust that glories. [Ex.

Scæna Quarta.

Enter Silvio and Belvidere severally.

Sil. Hail reverend Dame, heaven wait upon thy studies.
Bel. You are all well met Son: what is the Battel ended?
Sil. Mother, 'tis done.
Bel. How has thy honour prosper'd?
Sil. The Dutchess has the day, Syenna's prisoner:
Arm'd with thy powerful Art, this arm dismounted him,
Receiv'd him then on foot, and in fair valour.
Forc'd him mine own, this Jewel I took from him,
It hung upon his cask, the Victors triumph:
And to the Dutchess now a Prisoner
I have render'd him: Come off again unknown, Mother.
Bel. 'Tis well done, let me see the Jewel Son;
'Tis a rich one, curious set, fit for a Princess Burgonet:
This rich Token late was sent, by the Dutchess with intent,
The Marriage next day to begin: Dost thou know what's hid within?
Wipe thine eyes, and then come near, see the beauteous Belvidere:
Now behold it.
Sil. Oh my Saint.
Bel. Wear it nobly, do not faint.
Sil. How blest am I in this rich spoil, this Picture,
For ever will I keep it here, here Mother,
For ever honor it: how oft, how chastly
Have I embrac'd the life of this, and kist it!
Bel. The day draws on that thou must home return,
And make thy answer to the Dutchess question
I know it troubles thee, for if thou fail in't.
Sil. Oh, I must dye.
Bel. Fear not, fear not, I'll be nigh,
Cast thy trouble on my back, Art nor cunning shall not lack,
To preserve thee, still to keep, what thy envious foemen seek;
Go boldly home, and let thy mind, no distrustful crosses find:
All shall happen for the best; souls walk through sorrows that are blest.
Sil. Then I go confident.
Bel. But first my Son, a thankful service must be done,
The good old woman for her pain, when every thing stands fair again,
Must ask a poor Boon, and that granting, there's nothing to thy journey wanting.
Sil. Except the trial of my soul to mischief,
And as I am a Knight, and love mine honor,
I grant it whatsoever.
Bel. Thy pure soul
Shall never sink for me, nor howl.
Sil. Then any thing.
Bel. When I shall ask, remember.
Sil. If I forget, heavens goodness forget me.
Bel. On thy journey then awhile, to the next cross way and stile,
I'll conduct thee, keep thee true, to thy Mistriss and thy vow,
And let all their envies fall, I'll be with thee, and quench all.

[Exeunt.


Actus Quintus. Scæna Prima.

Enter Dutchess, Syenna, and Lords.

Sy. LAdy, the stubborn war's more mild than you are,
That allows Ransom, and the Prisoner taken—
Dutch. We must not be too hasty: Remember Sir,
The wrong and violence you have offer'd us,
Burnt up our frontier Towns, made prey before ye
Both of our Beasts, and Corn; slain our dear subjects,
Open'd the fountain eyes of thousand widows,
That daily fling their curses on your fury;
What ordinary satisfaction can salve this?
What hasty thought-on Ransome give a remedy?
You must excuse us yet, we'll take more counsel:
In the mean time, not as a prisoner,
But as a noble Prince we entertain ye.
Sy. I am at your mercy Lady, 'tis my fortune,
My stubborn fate; the day is yours, you have me,
The valour of one single man has cross'd me,
Crost me and all my hope; for when the Battel's
Were at the hottest game of all their furies,
And conquest ready then to crown me Victor,
One single man broke in, one sword, one vertue,
And by his great example thousands followed,
Oh how I shame to think on't, how it shakes me!
Nor could our strongest head then stop his fury,
But like a tempest [']bore the field before him,
Till he arriv'd at me, with me he buck'lled,
A while I held him play; at length his violence
Beat me from my saddle, then on foot pursu'd me,
There triumph'd once again, then took me prisoner:
When I was gone, a fear possest my people.
Dutch. One single arm, in a just cause, heaven prospers.
Is not this stranger Knight as yet discover'd,
That we may give his virtue a due honor?
Lord. Not yet that we hear Madam, but to that purpose,
Two daies ago we publish'd Proclamations.

Enter Soto with a [T]rumpet, and Silvio.

Soto. Oh dainty Dutchess, here I bring that Knight
Before thy fragrant face, that warlike wight,
He that Syenna's Duke, and all his Louts
Beat (as the Proverb seemly saies) to clouts:
He that unhors'd the man o' fame to boot,
And bootless taught his Grace to walk afoot:
He that your writings (pack'd to every pillar)
Promis'd promotion to, and store of siller,
That very man I set before thy Grace,
And once again pronounce, this man it was.
Dutch. A pretty foolish Squire, what must the Knight be?
Sy. Some Jugler or some Mad man.
Sil. I was not so,
When thy faint Troops in flocks I beat before me,
When, through the thickest of thy warlike horse,
I shot my self even to thy Standard Duke,
And there found thee, there singled thee, there shew'[d t]hee
The temper of my Sword. 'Tis true, thou stoodst me,
And like a noble soldier bidst me welcome;
And this I'll say, More honor in that arme,
I found and tryed, than all thy Army carried:
What follows thy imprisonment can tell thee.
Sy. His fair relation carries truth and virtue,
And by those Arms I see, (for such were his,
So old, so rusty) this may be he that forc'd me.
Sil. Do you know this Jewel, from your Cask I rent it,
Even as I clos'd, and forced ye from your saddle;
Do you now remember me?
Sy. This is the valour
Madam, for certain he, it must be he,
That day I wore this Jewel, you remember it.
Dutch. Yes, very well; not long before I sent it.
Sy. That day I lost this Jewel, in fight I lost it,
I felt his strokes, and felt him take it from me,
I wore it in my Cask; take it again Sir,
You won it nobly, 'tis the prize of honor.
Soto. My Father and my self are made for ever.
Dutch. Kneel down brave Sir thus my Knight first I raise ye,
Gird on a Sword; next General of my Army, [Discovers himself.
Give him a staff; last, one in Counsel near me.
Now, make us happy with your sight: how? Silvio?
Have I on thee bestow'd this love, this honor?
The Treasons thou hast wrought set off with favours?
Unarm him presently: Oh thou foul Traitor,
Traitor to me, mine honor, and my Countrey,
Thou kindler of these Wars.
Sil. Mistake not Madam.
Dutch. Away with him to prison,
See him safe kept, the Law shall shortly sirrah,
Find fitter Titles for ye, than I gave ye.
Soto. This is the youth that kill'd me, I'll be quit with him,
What a blind rogue was I, I could never know him!
And't please your Grace, I claim the benefit
Of the Proclamation that proclaim'd him Traitor,
I brought him in.
Dutch. Thou shalt have thy reward for't.
Soto. Let him he hang'd, or drown'd then.
Dutch. Away with him.
Sil. Madam, I crave your promise first; you are tyed to it,
You have past your Princely word.
Dutch. Prove it, and take it.
Sil. This is the day appointed,
Appointed by your Grace for my appearance,
To answer to the Question.
Dutch. I remember it.
Sil. I claim it then.
Dutch. If you perform it not,
The penalty you claim too.
Sil. I not repent it;
If I absolve the words?
Dutch. Your life is free then,
You have drawn a speedy course above my wishes,
To my revenge, be sure ye hit it right,
Or I'll be sure you shall not scape the danger.
Sil. My rest is up now Madam.
Dutch. Then play it cunningly.
Sil. Now, where's the Hag? where now are all her promises,
She would be with me, strengthen me, inform me?
My death will now be double death, ridiculous:
She was wont still to be near, to feel my miseries,
And with her Art, I see her no where now;
What have I undertaken? now she fails me,
No comfort now I find, how my soul staggers!
Till this hour never fear nor doubt possest me,
She cannot come, she will not come, she has fool'd me;
Sure, she is the Devil, has drawn me on to ruine,
And now to death bequeaths me in my danger.
Sy. He stands distracted, and his colour changes.
Dutch. I have given him that will make his blood forsake him;
Shortly his life.
Sy. His hands and contemplation
Have motion still, the rest is earth already.
Duc. Come, will ye speak or pray? your time grows out Sir;
How every where he looks! he's at last cast.

Enter Belvidere, and secretly gives him a paper, and Exit.

Sy. His colour comes again fresh.
Duc. 'Tis a flash, Sir,
Before the flame burns out; can ye yet answer?
Sil. Yes Madam, now I can.
Duc. I fear you'll fail in't.
Sil. And do not think my silence a presage,
Or Omen to my end, you shall not find it;
I am bred a Soldier not an Orator:
Madam, peruse this scrowl, let that speak for me,
And as you are Royal, wrong not the construction.
Dutch. By heaven you shall have fair play.
Sil. I shall look for't.

Question.

Tell me what is that only thing,
For which all women long;
Yet having what they most desire,
To have it do's them wrong.

Answer.

Tis not to be chaste, nor fair,
Such gifts malice may impair;
Richly trimm'd to walk or ride,
Or to wanton unespy'd;
To preserve an honest name,
And so to give it up to fame;
These are toys. In good or ill
They desire to have their Will;
Yet when they have it, they abuse it,
For they know not how to use it.
Dutch. You have answer'd right, and gain'd your life,
I give it.
Sil. Oh happy Hag! But my most gracious Madam,
Your promise ty'd a nobler favour to me.
Duch. 'Tis true, my Daughter too.
Sil. I hope you will keep it.
Dutch. 'Tis not in my power now, she is long since wander'd,
Stol'n from Court, and me; and what I have not
I cannot give: no man can tell me of her,
Nor no search find her out: and if not Silvio,
Which strongly I believe—
Sil. Mock me not Lady,
For as I am a servant to her virtue,
Since my first hour of exile, I ne'er saw her.
Lord. That she is gone, 'tis too too true, and lamentable,
Our last hope was in you.
Sil. What do I hear then,
And wherefore have I life bestow'd and honor?
To what end do I walk? for men to wonder at,
And fight, and fool? pray ye take your honors from me,
(My sorrows are not fit companions for 'em)
And when ye please my life: Art thou gone Mistriss,
And wander'st heaven knows where? this vow I make thee,
That till I find thee out, and see those fair eyes;
Those eyes that shed their lights, and life into me,
Never to know a friend, to seek a kindred,
To rest where pleasure dwels, and painted glory,
But through the world; the wide world, thus to wander,
The wretched world alone, no comfort with me,
But the meer meditations of thy goodness:
Honor and greatness, thus adieu.

Enter Belvidere.

Bel. Stay Silvio,
And Lady sit again, I come for Justice.
Sil. What would she now?
Bel. To claim thy promise Silvio,
The boon thou swor'st to give me.
Sy. What may this be,
A Woman or a Devil?
Duch. 'Tis a Witch sure,
And by her means he came to untwist this Riddle.
Sil. That I am bound to her for my life, mine honor;
And many other thousand ways for comfort
I here confess: confess a promise too,
That what she would aske me to requite these favours,
Within the endeavour of my life to grant,
I would; and here I stand my words full master.
Bel. I wish no more: great Lady, witness with me,
The boon I crave for all my service to thee,
Is now to be thy wife, to grant me marriage.
Sil. How? for to marry thee? ask again woman,
Thou wilful woman, ask again.
Bel. No more Sir.
Sil. Ask Land, and Life.
Bel. I aske thee for a Husband.
Soto. Marry her, and beat her into Gun-powder,
She would make rare Crackers.
Sil. Ask a better fortune,
Thou art too old to marry: I a Soldier,
And always married to my sword.
Bel. Thy word Fool,
Break that, and I'll break all thy fortunes yet.
Dutch. He shall not,
I am witness to his faith: and I'll compel it.
Sy. 'Tis fit ye hold your word, Sir.
Sil. Oh most wretched.
Dutch. This was a fortune now beyond my wishes,
For now my Daughter's free, if e'er I find her.
Sy. But not from me.
Dutch. You are sharer in this happiness,
My self will wait upon this marriage,
And do the old woman all the honor possible.
Sy. I'll lead the Knight, and what there wants in dalliance,
We'll take it out in drink.
Sil. Oh wretched Silvio. [Exeunt.

Scæna Secunda.

Enter Lopez and Isabella.

Lop. Hast thou sent for him?
Isab. Yes.
Lop. A young man, saist thou?
Isab. Yes, very young, and very amorous.
Lop. And handsome?
Isab. As the Town affords.
Lop. And dar'st thou
Be so far good, and Mistriss of thine honor,
To slight these?
Isab. For my Husband's sake to curse 'em,
And since you have made me Mistriss of my fortune,
Never to point at any joy, but Husband,
I could have cozen'd ye, but so much I love ye,
And now so much I weigh the estimation
Of an unspotted wife—
Lop. I dare believe thee,
And never more shall doubt torment my spirit.

Enter Penurio.

Isab. How now Penurio?
Pen. The thing is comming, Mistriss.
Lop. I'll take my standing.
Pen. Do, and I'll take mine. [Exit Lopez.
Isab. Where didst thou leave him?
Pen. I left him in a Cellar,
Where he has paid me titely, paid me home Mistriss,
We had an hundred and fifty healths to you, sweet Mistriss,
And threescore and ten damnations to my Master;
Mistriss, shall I speak a foolish word to ye?
Isab. What's that Penurio?
The fellow's drunk.
Pen. I would fain know your body.
Isab. How's that? how's that prethee?
Pen. I would know it carnally,
I would conglutinate.
Isab. The reason sirrah?
Pen. Lobster, sweet Mistriss, Lobster.
Isab. Thy Master hears.
Pen. Lobster, sweet Master, Lobster.
Isab. Thou art the most pretious rogue.

Enter Claudio.

Pen. Most pretious Lobster.
Isab. Do you see who's here? go sleep ye drunken rascal.
Pen. Remember you refuse me arm'd in Lobster. [Exit.
Isab. Oh my lost Rugio, welcome, welcome, welcome,
A thousand welcomes here I'll seal.
Cla. Pray ye stay, Lady,
Do you love me ever at this rate? or is the fit now,
By reason of some wrong done by your Husband,
More fervent on ye?
Isab. Can I chuse but love thee?
Thou art my Martyr, thou hast suffered for me,
My sweet, sweet Rugio.
Cla. Do you do this seriously?
'Tis true, I would be entertained thus.
Isab. These are nothing,
No kisses, no embraces, no endearments,
To those—
Cla. Do what you will.
Isab. Those that shall follow,
Those I will crown our love withal; why sigh ye?
Why look ye sad my dear one?
Cla. Nay, faith nothing,
But methinks so sweet a beauty, as yours shews to me,
And such an innocence as you may make it,
Should hold a longer Siege.
Isab. Ha, you speak truth, Sir.
Cla. I would not have it so.
Isab. And now methinks,
Now I consider truly what becomes me,
I have been cozen'd, fearfully abus'd,
My reason blinded.
Cla. Nay, I did but jest with ye.
Isab. I'll take ye at your word, and thank ye for't Sir;
And now I see no sweetness in that person,
Nothing to stir me to abuse a Husband,
To ruine my fair fame.
Cla. Good Isabella.
Isab. No handsome man, nor any thing to doat on,
No face, no tongue to catch me, poor at all points,
And I an ass.
Cla. Why do ye wrong me Lady?
If I were thus, and had no youth upon me,
My service of so mean a way to win ye,
(Which you your self are conscious must deserve ye,
If you had thrice the beauty you possess, must reach ye)
If in my tongue your fame lay wrack'd, and ruin'd
With every cup I drink: if in opinion
I were a lost, defam'd man: but this is common
Where we love most, where most we stake our fortunes,
There least and basest we are rewarded: fare ye well,
Know now I hate you too as much, contemn ye,
And weigh my credit at as high a value.
Isab. May be I did but jest.
Cla. Ye are a woman,
And now I see your wants, and mine own follies,
And task my self with indiscretion,
For doating on a face so poor.
Isab. Say ye so Sir,
(I must not lose my end) I did but jest with you,
Only fool'd thus to try your faith: my Rugio,
Do you think I could forget?
Cla. Nay, 'tis no matter.
Isab. Is't possible I should forsake a constancy,
So strong, so good, so sweet?
Cla. A subtle woman.
Isab. You shall forgive me, 'twas a trick to try ye,
And were I sure [y]e lov'd me—
Cla. Do you doubt now?
Isab. I do not doubt, but he that would profess this,
And bear that full affection you make shew of,
Should do—
Cla. What should I do?
Isab. I cannot shew ye.
Cla. I'll try thee damnedst Devil: hark ye Lady,
No man shall dare do more, no service top me,
I'll marry ye.
Isab. How Sir?
Cla. Your Husband's sentenc'd,
And he shall dye.
Isab. Dye?
Cla. Dye for ever to ye,
The danger is mine own.
Isab. Dye did ye tell me?
Cla. He shall dye, I have cast the way.
Isab. Oh foul man,
Malicious bloody man.

Enter Lopez.