What would this Woman? 
     The purpose of these words? speak not in riddles,
     And when I understand, what you would counsel,
     My answer shall be suddain.

     Viol.

     Thus then Jamie,
     The objects of our fury are the same,
     For young Ascanio, whom you Snake-like hug’d
     (Frozen with wants to death) in your warm bosom,
     Lives to supplant you in your certain hopes,
     And kills in me all comfort.

     Jam.

     Now ’tis plain,
     I apprehend you:  and were he remov’d—­

     Viol.

     You, once again, were the undoubted heir.

     Jam.

     ’Tis not to be deny’d; I was ice before,
     But now ye have fir’d me.—­

     Viol.

     I’le add fuel to it,
     And by a nearer cut, do you but steer
     As I direct you, wee’l bring our Bark into
     The Port of happiness.

     Jam.

     How?

     Viol.

     By Henriques death: 
     But you’l say he’s your Brother; in great fortunes
     (Which are epitomes of States and Kingdoms)
     The politick brook no Rivals.

     Jam.

     Excellent! 
     For sure I think out of a scrupulous fear,
     To feed in expectation, when I may
     (Dispensing but a little with my conscience)
     Come into full possession, would not argue
     One that desir’d to thrive.

     Viol.

     Now you speak like
     A man that knows the World.

     Jam.

I needs must learn That have so good a Tutress:  and what think you, (Don Henrique and Ascanio cut off) That none may live, that shall desire to trace us In our black paths, if that Octavio His foster Father, and the sad Jacinta, (Faith pitie her, and free her from her Sorrows) Should fall companions with ’em?  When we are red With murther, let us often bath in blood, The colour will be scarlet.

     Viol.

     And that’s glorious,
     And will protect the fact.

     Jam.

     Suppose this done: 
     (If undiscovered) we may get for mony,
     (As that you know buyes any thing in Rome)
     A dispensation.

     Viol.

     And be married?

     Jam.

     True. 
     Or if it be known, truss up our Gold and Jewels,
     And fly to some free State, and there with scorn—­

     Viol.

     Laugh at the laws of Spain. 
     ’Twere admirable.

     Jam.

     We shall beget rare children.  I am rapt with
     The meer imagination.—­

     Viol.