Ah! was he so? how durst thou then, ungracious councillor, First cause me murder such a worthy man, And after tempt so virtuous a woman? Be this therefore the last that e'er thou speak. Janissaries, take him straight unto the block; Off with his head, and suffer him not to speak. [_Exit_ BRUSOR. And now, Perseda, here I lay me down, And on thy beauty still contemplate, Until mine eyes shall surfeit by my gazing. But stay, let me see what paper is this. [_Then he takes up a paper, and reads in it_ _as followeth--_ Tyrant, my lips were sauc'd[431] with deadly poison, To plague thy heart that is so full of poison. What, am I poison'd? Then, Janissaries, Let me see Rhodes recover'd ere I die. Soldiers, assault the town on ev'ry side; Spoil all, kill all; let none escape your fury. [_Sound an alarm to the fight._ Say, Captain, is Rhodes recovered again? CAPTAIN. It is, my lord, and stoops to Soliman. SOLIMAN. Yet that allays the fury of my pain, Before I die, for doubtless die I must. Ay, fates, injurious fates have so decreed: For now I feel the poison 'gins to work, And I am weak, ev'n to the very death; Yet something more contentedly I die, For that my death was wrought by her device Who, living, was my joy, whose death my woe. Ah, Janissaries! now dies your emperor, Before his age hath seen his mellow'd years; And, if you ever lov'd your emperor, Affright me not with sorrows and laments: And, when my soul from body shall depart, Trouble me not; but let me pass in peace, And in your silence let your love be shown. My last request, for I command no more, Is that my body with Perseda's be Interr'd, where my Erastus lies entomb'd, And let one epitaph contain us all. Ah! now I feel the paper told me true; The poison is dispers'd through ev'ry vein, And boils, like Ætna, in my frying guts. Forgive me, dear Erastus, my unkindness; I have reveng'd thy death with many deaths: And, sweet Perseda, fly not Soliman, When as my gliding ghost shall follow thee With eager mood thorough eternal night. And now pale death sits on my panting soul, And with revenging ire doth tyrannise, And says: for Soliman's too much amiss This day shall be the period of my bliss. [_Then_ SOLIMAN _dies, and they carry him forth_ _with silence. Exeunt omnes_. _Enter_ CHORUS. FORTUNE. I gave Erastus woe and misery Amidst his greatest joy and jollity. LOVE.