STRANGE. Peace, peace! For heaven's sake, peace! Come, sir, I'll carry you to a surgeon. Here's gold to stop thy throat. For God's sake, peace! CAPT. POUTS. Sirrah, you have brought me to a surgeon already: I'll be even with you. KATH. Of all men living I could marry thee, Were not my heart given to another man. Sir, you did speak of Strange? CAPT. POUTS. These women are as crafty as the devil. Yes, I did speak of him: Sir John, my lord, Know Strange is murder'd by that villain's hand, And by his wife's consent. OMNES. How? SIR J. WOR. God forbid! CAPT. POUTS. Search presently the closet and the vault, There you shall find his body: 'tis too true. The reason all may guess: her husband, wanting Spirit to do on me what he hath done, In hope to marry her, he hath murder'd him. KATH. To marry me! No, villain: I do hate him On this report worse than I do thyself; And may the plagues and tortures of a land Seize me if this be not an innocent hand. SIR J. WOR. 'Fore God, 'tis most like truth. Son Scudmore, pray Look to this fellow: gentlemen, assist. Torches! some torches! I'll go search myself. SIR INN. I will assist you. C. FRED. But I pray, sir, how came you unto this knowledge? CAPT. POUTS. From his mouth. STRANGE. I'll save your labour, and discover all. Thou perjur'd villain, didst not swear thou wouldst not Discover me? CAPT. POUTS. I but swore in jest. STRANGE. Nay, but remember, thou didst wish Strange living, If ever thou didst tell. CAPT. POUTS. Sir, all is true,[64] And would my punishment would ease my conscience. SIR J. WOR. To Newgate with him! hence! take her along. Out, murderers! whore, thou art no child of mine! Fetch constable and officers. Away! STRANGE. Sir, do but hear me speak. SIR J. WOR. Fetch officers! CAPT. POUTS. Go fetch a surgeon. STRANGE. Sir, you are then too violent. I will bail her. [_Discovers himself._ KATH. O my dear Strange! SIR J. WOR. My son! SCUD., LUC., BEL. Brother! OMNES. Young Strange! CAPT. POUTS. Heart! I was never sick before: help me now to a surgeon, or I shall swoon instantly. [_As two lead him, he speaks._ Thou wert born a woman-citizen; fare thee well. And farewell, love and women, ye diseases: My horse and sword shall be my mistresses, My horse I'll court, my sword shall lie with me. [_Exit._ STRANGE. The way to cure lust is to bleed, I see. C. FRED. Tell him all, Scudmore, whilst I go a-wooing again. Sir John, will you go along, and my two worshipful elders, I pray, be your witnesses. Priest, go not you away. Heart! I have so ruminated on a wife, that I must have one this night, or I shall run proud.[65]