+Cle.+ You'll not commit A rape, my lord? +San.+ That is a question as Yet unresolv'd; for force is my last refuge. +Cle.+ Think on the danger; for the sin, I see, Little distracts your conscience. +San.+ I propose Felicity, which none can merit who Refuse so poor a venture. Here I vow, No prayer or art shall free you. If you will Hazard a life devoted to your service, I'll die your martyr. +Cle.+ Come, my lord, I'll free you From all such hazard. +San.+ There spoke harmony! +Cle.+ I'll not be cruel. You shall have kisses, such As will melt your soul into your lips: and what Is sweetest, no repentance shall be th' issue _Enter +Floriana+ and +Oniate+._ Of your delight. Look here, my lord! She's yours. +San.+ No halter now nor tree convenient? O! A steeple would be precious for my purpose! But Oniate's there. I'll fight with him, Be kill'd and be redeem'd. Sir, you receiv'd A challenge from me! but return'd no answer. +Oni.+ My lord, I had other business; you'll excuse me. +San.+ What satisfaction do men give when challeng'd? +Oni.+ According to their spirit: if they be Regardless of their fame, then they submit; If not, they fight. +San.+ What, sir, will you then do? +Oni.+ Let me consider. Neither. +San.+ Come, you shall fight. +Oni.+ My lord, I will not. +San.+ Then you shall subscribe Yourself a coward. +Oni.+ Not for the whole world! Such an apparent lie would be a sin Too heavy to my conscience. I subscribe Myself a coward! If I should, no soldier Would think but that my hand were counterfeited. +San.+ Then you must fight. +Oni.+ My lord, on no condition. Hope not for it. +San.+ Then you shall swear never to speak my name But with respect. +Oni.+ Hereafter, if you can Deserve it. For the present I must crave Your pardon with much mirth to laugh at you. +San.+ Sir, I shall meet you. +Oni.+ It shall contradict All my endeavours then. +San.+ I go, sir. But---- [_Exit +Sanmartino+._ +Cle.+ For mercy sake, go with thy lord. Repentance May turn to desperation. +Flo.+ I'll preserve him. [_Exit._ +Cle.+ Have you no business, sir, imports you more, Than t' hold discourse with me? Troth, I shall pity You want employment. +Oni.+ Madam, what can be More serious? +Cle.+ Nothing more, if your design Be to convert me: for I know you hold All ladies in a schism who are young and proud. +Oni.+ Your pardon, madam. I believe you[285] cunning Court-ladies choose some petty venial errors To set perfection off; for should you not Usurp a handsome pride, your fame would lie, Like unwall'd cities, open to the prey Of each invading youth. Did you not show A scorn, you would deserve it.