Lady.  Doe you not love me then?

Thu.  Can a man
Robd of a Jewell deare to him as breath
Affect the theife, O murdresse?—­for that title
Best suites thy impious quality, since thy curse,
Thy cruell curse, imposd uppon my love,
Has massacred two of the faithfulst hearts
Affection ere united.  Though your lust
Desir’d smooth youth to sate it, piety
Might have reclamd you for attempting me,
Your daughter’s interest.—­Ile not rayle
Cause tis unman[ner]ly,[109] untill you find
What ’tis to cause true lovers prove unkind.
          
                                [Exit.

Enter Alexan.

Lady.  Was I a sleepe?  What transitory dreame
Deceivd my sense? did I not here my love
Protest affection? no, it was some feind
Vested in his mortallity, whome hell
Sent to abuse my weaknes.

Lov.  She has bin sure tormented with that furie which cla[pt] me on my shoulder.  She talkes of Hell, love and affection.  Ha, goe to and goe to! the old Knight my Mrs. Goast, I hope does not haunt the house.

Lady.  Twas he, Ime certaine on’t; I felt his lips,
And they were flesh; they breath’d on mine a warmth
Temperate as westerne kisses which the morne
Weaps liquid drops to purchase.  This confirmes
It was no apparition that contemnd
My willingnes, but he, his reall selfe,
Mockt my integrity:  he must not passe soe,
To blase abroad my infamy.

Lov.  Madam, feare nothing, be not troubled; the Goast meant no harme to you, uppon my life he did not; Goe to and goe to, I say and I sayt, he did not.  He did appeare to me—­your love, your husband, my old Mr.—­here, clapt me on the shoulder, as his old custome was still when he usd to talke with me familiarly.

Lady.  But, Sirrah, what familiarity
Have you with any of my privasies? 
Sausie groome, practise your ancient duty.

    Enter Young Mar.

Y.  M.  What meanes this fury, Madam?

Lady.  O, deare boy,
What haplesse fate exposd thee to the veiw
Of this [sic] sad mothers sorrowes? but I charge thee,
As thou respects thy duty, not to question
The cause of my distemper; my iust feares
Prohibits thee the knowledge of it.

Lov.  Why, Sir, she has seene the Divell.

Lady.  Ha!

Lov.  Nay, Madam, I have don; they say the Divell has no power ore a Drunkard; once more Ile run the hazard.

Y.  M.  Whoe, what is he? speake,
For heavens sake, speake:  were he defensd with clouds
Or circled with unsteadfast boggs, my rage
Should cut a passage to him.

Lady.  Thou strait will grow
More passionate then I:  goe to your chamber,
Ile but dispatch these gentlemen.
                                         [Exit Mar.