_Bur_. Or force that sparkling beauty from your face. Looke not so fiercely nor cry out for helpe, For if you doe this makes you cry your last. Seing neyther words, kind letters, hearty sighes. Humble intreaty nor a world of payne Can move you to take pitty of my love, But Tyrant-like your beauty seeks my life; I will blot out that beauty with this juice. Thus, thus I wipe away my passions, Thus doe I heale the torments of my love, Thus doe I ransome my inthralled eye, And by depriving of the cause of life Kill th' effect, which was a world of sorrow. Farewell, foule Bellamira; I am pleasde In this revenge that no way could be easde. [_Exit_. _Rod_.--Zounds, he has don't: now, Roderick, joy thy fill. Burbon is thine, the Dukedome is thine owne, For only he in the Inheritance Stood as an obstacle to let my clayme. This deed of his will take away his life: And then let me alone to enjoy his land. Ile steale away unseene, cause unsuspected; I would not for the world be once detected. [_Exit_. _Bel_. Poyson my face! oh most inhuman wretche! Revenge more vile then to abbridge my life. What, Thomasin! What, brother Ferdinand! My kingly father! is there none that heares? Then Treason, treason! let that waken you, For capitall is this offence to me. _Enter Navar, Pembrooke, Ferdinand and Thomasin_. _Tho_. O Jesu! mistris, what ayles your face? _Nav_. Her face! _Ferd_. Tis spotted like a Panthers skin. _Pem_. O were those spots as kindly beautiful Then were fayre Bellamira undeform'd. _Nav_. O what divine power hath sent this Leprosy? _Ferd_. Say, beautious Sister. _Pem_. Speake, fayre Bellamira. _Nav_. My sweet daughter, speake. _Pem_. Her silence argues a tormented spirit. _Ferd_.--Thy countenance argues a deceitfull soule. _Enter Lewes, Philip, Rodoricke and Flaunders_. _Lew_. Where is Navar? _Phil_. Where is fayre Bellamira? _Bel_. My Philip! oh give leave to fly his sight. _Nav_. Stay, gentle daughter; heele not injure thee. _Lew_. Heere are the Articles concluded on. I could not rest till I had signed them And brought them to your Highnesse. A moneth hence The mariage shall be fully solemnized, So please your Majesty and your fayre daughter. Are you content? _Nav_. To live in discontent. _Phil_. Methinks this royall presence hath dim lookes. Is it because they are in the armes of night, Which sets a leaden lustre in the eye? Or hath some accident occoasted [sic] them That troubles their aspect with melancholy? Is Navar well? is Ferdinando well? Is Pembrooke well? is Bellamira well? 0 where is Bellamira? tell me, Princes, For now my tongue hath strooke upon her name I feele a kind of killing extasie. Where is she? in her Tent? _Bel_.--Deny me father. I would not see Prince Philip with this face. _Phil_. Why speak you not? what, have I toucht the string Whereon the burden of your sorrow lyes? Father, look round about: see you my love? Rodoricke, look round about: see you my love? _Lew_. I see her not.