SCENA III.

Enter Demetrius, and Leontius.

Dem.  Let me but see her, dear Leontius; Let me but dye before her.

Leo.  Would that would doe it: 
If I knew where she lay now, with what honestie,
You having flung so main a mischief on her,
And on so innocent and sweet a Beauty,
Dare I present your visit?

Dem.  I’le repent all:  And with the greatest sacrifice of sorrow, That ever Lover made.

Leo.  ’Twill be too late Sir:  I know not what will become of you.

Dem.  You can help me.

Leo.  It may be to her sight:  what are you nearer?  She has sworn she will not speak to ye, look upon ye, And to love ye again, O she cries out, and thunders, She had rather love—­there is no hope—­

Dem.  Yes Leontius, There is a hope, which though it draw no love to it, At least will draw her to lament my fortune, And that hope shall relieve me.

Leo.  Hark ye Sir, hark ye:  Say I should bring ye—­

Dem.  Do [not] trifle with me?

Leo.  I will not trifle; both together bring ye, You know the wrongs ye’ done.

Dem.  I do confess ’em.

Leo.  And if you should then jump into your fury, And have another querk in your head.

Dem.  I’le dye first.

Leo.  You must say nothing to her; for ’tis certain, The nature of your crime will admit [no] excuse.

Dem.  I will not speak, mine eyes shall tell my penance.

Leo.  You must look wondrous sad too.

Dem.  I need not look so, I am truly sadness self.

Leo.  That look will do it:  Stay here, I’le bring her to you instantly:  But take heed how you bear your self:  sit down there, The more humble you are, the more she’l take compassion.  Women are per’lous thing[s] to deal upon. [Exit.

Dem.  What shall become of me? to curse my fortune,
Were but to curse my Father; that’s too impious;
But under whatsoever fate I suffer,
Bless I beseech thee heaven her harmless goodness.

Enter Leontius, and Celia.

Leo.  Now arm your self.

Cel.  You have not brought him?

Leo.  Yes faith, And there he is:  you see in what poor plight too, Now you may doe your will, kill him, or save him.

Cel.  I will goe back.

Leo.  I will be hang’d then Lady, Are ye a coward now?

Cel.  I cannot speak to him.

Dem.  O me.

Leo.  There was a sigh to blow a Church down; So, now their eyes are fixt, the small shot playes, They will come to th’ batterie anon.

Cel.  He weeps extreamly.

Leo.  Rail at him now.

Cel.  I dare not.