Alex.  Thinke, sir, to whome the Iniury was don,—­go to—­your Lady Mother, a vertuous lady, I say and I sayt agen, a very vertuous lady.  Had I but youth and strength as you have, in what cause should I sooner hazard both then in this?

Y.  M.  Murder, my friend!

Alex.  Noe, tis doing sacrifice to slaunderd goodnes.

Y.  M.  Rob my beloved Sister of a husband!

Alex.  Yes, to redeeme to your mother her lost honour.

Y.  M.  Art not a Divell?

Alex.  Ha!

Y.  M.  Thy breath has blasted me.

Alex.  I must confes indeed I have eaten garlicke.

Y.  M.  All pious thoughts that lately fild this spheare
Are scatterd with the winds that issu’d from thee,
Which, like the infectious yawning of a hill,
Belching forth death inevitable,
Has distroyd freindship and nature in me. 
Thou canst not poyson worse:  I can feed now,
Feed and nere burst with mallice.  Sing, Syren, sing
And swell me with revenge sweet as the straines
Falls from the Thrasian lyre; charme each sence
With musick of Revenge, let Innocence
In softest tunes like the expiring Swann
Dy singing her owne Epitaph.

Alex.  What meane you, sir? are you mad? goe to and goe to; you doe not use me well; I say and I say, you do not.  Have I this for my love to you and your good Mother?  Why, I might be your Father by my age, which is falne on me in my old Mrs service; he would have used me better.

Y.  M.  Dost weepe, old Crocodile? looke dost see this sword.

Alex.  Oh, I beseech you, sir; goe to; what meane you?

Y.  M.  No harme to thee; this was my Fathers once,
My honord Father; this did never view
The glaring Sunn but in a noble cause,
And then returnd home blushing with red spoyles,
Which sung his fame and conquest.  Goe, intreat
My Mother be as pleasant as she was
That night my Father got me.  I am going, say,
Most cheerfully to finish her comaund.

Alex.  Heaven prosper you.  Ha!

    Enter Thurston.

Thu.  Freind, I was looking for you.

Y.  M.  And you have found me, Villaine.

Thu.  What meane you?

Y.  M.  If thou darst follow me I will conduct thee Unto the seate of death.

Thu.  Dare!  Ile goe with thee, hand in hand; goe on.

[Exeunt ambo.

Alex.  Goe, goe to and goe to, I say and I sait; here wilbe some revenge.  If the Gent[leman] fall my lady has promist me a farme of 100 pounds a yeare; goe to, then.  Now, if her sonn be slayne, heres then this purse of gold and this rich Jewell which she sent to him.  By this wee see, whoever has the worst, The fox fares well, but better when hees curst.[121] Goe to and goe to then.