[_She thrusts at_ VOTARIUS _with the sword_. VOT. How now, lady! 'Ud's life, you prick me, madam! WIFE. Prythee, peace! I will not hurt thee; will you yet be gone, sir? LEO. He's upon going, I think. VOT. Madam, you deal false with me; O, I feel it; You're a most treacherous lady! this thy glory! My breast is all a-fire! O-- [_Dies._ LEO. Ha, ha, ha! ANS. Ha! I believe her constancy too late, Confirm'd e'en in the blood of my best friend; Take thou my vengeance, thou bold, pernicious strumpet, [_Kills_ LEONELLA. _Enter_ BELLARTUS. That durst accuse thy virtuous lady falsely! BEL. O deadly poison after a sweet banquet! What make I here? I had forgot my part;[474] I am an actor too, and never thought on't, The blackness of this season cannot miss me. Sirrah, you lord! WIFE. Is he there? welcome, ruin! BEL. There is a life due to me in that bosom For this poor gentlewoman. ANS. And art thou then receiver! I'll pay thee largely, slave, for thy last 'scape. [_They make a dangerous pass at one another,_ _the lady purposely runs between them, and_ _is killed_. WIFE. I come, Votarius! ANS. Hold, if manhood guide thee! O, what has fury done now? BEL. What has it done now? Why, kill'd an honourable whore, that's all. ANS. Villain! I'll seal that lie upon thy heart. A constant lady---- [_He kneels at his wife's side._ BEL. ----to the devil, as could be! Must I prick you forward; either up Or, sir, I'll take my chance; thou couldst kill her Without repenting, that deserv'd more pity; And spend'st thy time and tears upon a quean. ANS. Slave! BEL. That was deceiv'd once in her own deceit, [_They fight: both are mortally wounded._ As I am now; the poison I prepar'd Upon that weapon for mine enemy's bosom, Is bold to take acquaintance of my blood too, And serves us both to make up death withal. ANS. I ask no more of destiny, but to fall Close by the chaste side of my virtuous mistress; If all the treasure of my weeping strength Be left so wealthy but to purchase that, I have the dear wish of a great man's spirit, Yet favour me, O, yet--I thank thee, fate, I expire cheerfully, and give death a smile. [ANSELMUS _dies_. BEL. O rage! I pity now mine enemy's flesh. _Enter_ GOVIANUS, _with Servants_. GOV. Where should he be? 1ST SER. My lady, sir, will tell you. She's in her chamber here. 2D SER. O my lord!