Tere.  Here comes Lord Lentulus.

Tul.  Swift danger, now ride poaste through this passage.

    Enter[289] Lentulus.

Health to your honour.

Len.  And happines to you.

Tul.  In[290] heaven, deere Lord, but—­

Lent.  Tush, tush, on earth; come, come, I know your suite, tis graunted sure, what ere it be.

Tul.  My sute craves death, for treason to my friend.

Teren.  The Traitor lives while I have breath to spend, Then let me die to satisfie your will.

Lent.  Neither, yfaith, kneele not, rise, rise, I pray; You both confesse you have offended me?

Both.  We doe, we have.

Lent.  Then for this offence, be this your doome:  Tulley must die, but not till fates decree To cut your vital threed, or Terentia Finde in her heart to be your Deathes-man.

Flav.  Faith the Fates may doe as they may, but Terentia will never finde in her heart to kill him, sheele first burie him quick.

Len.  The like is doomde to faire Terentia.  How say you both, are yee content?

Teren.  My thoughts are plung’d in admiration.

Tul.  But can your honour burie such a wrong?

Len.  I can, I can; heere, Tulley, take Terentia,
Live many happie yeares in faithfull love. 
This is no more then friendships lawes allow;
Thinke me thy self, another Cicero.

Flav.  Twere better, my Lord, you did perswade her to think you another Cicero, so you might claim some interest in her now and then.

Lent.  That I would claim with you, faire Ladie; Hark in your eare, nay, I must conclude with you.

Flau.  Y’oule not bite, my Lord?

Len.  No, of my faith, my Lady.

Tere.  Thus far, my love, our hopes have good successe; One storme more past, my griefes were much the less.

Tul.  Friendship itself hath beene more prodigal Then a bolde face could begge upon a friend.

Lent.  Why, then theres a bargaine.

Flav.  Strike hands upon the same, I am yours to commaund.  Ile love with ye, ile lie with ye, ile love with all my heart, With all my strength, with all my power and virtue:  Seald and delivered in the presence of us—­

Lent. Marcus Tullius Cicero.  Then you deliver this as your act and deede?

Flav.  I doe, and scale it with this—­

Lent.  Why, well said, tis done; see, we begin but now, And are as ready to goe to Church as you.  What needes further ceremony?

Flav.  Yes, a little matrimony.

Lent.  I, Lady.  Come Tully and Terentia; One day shall shine on both our Nuptials; Feare not, ile quench the fire of your Fathers heate With my consent.