GIO. I cannot find her yet. The king of flames Protests she is not there: but hang him, rogue, They say he'll lie. O, how my glutted spleen Tickles to think how I have paid the slave! I made him lead me into every hole: Ha, ha, ha! what crying was there there? Here on a wheel, turn'd by a fury's hand, Hangs a distracted statesman, that had spent The little wit Heaven to strange purpose lent him To suppress right, make beggars, and get means To be a traitor. Ha, ha, ha! And here A usurer, fat with the curses of so many heirs His extortion had undone, sat to the chin In a warm bath, made of new-melted gold; And now and then a draught pass'd through his throat. He fed upon his god; but he being angry Scalded his chaps. Right against him Stood a fool'd gallant, chain'd unto a post, And lash'd by folly for his want of wit. The reeling drunkard and plump glutton stood Making of faces, close by Tantalus: But drank and fed on air. The whoremaster, Tied to a painted punk, was by a fury, Termed insatiate lust, whipped with a blade Of fire. And here---- What's here? 'tis my Evadne's veil; 'tis hers, I know't: Some slave has ravish'd my Evadne! Well, There breathes not such an impious slave in hell. Nay, it is hers, I know it too-too plain. Your breath is lost: 'tis hers: you speak in vain. [_Exit._ _Thunder and lightning._ _Enter the_ BANDIT, _with_ EVADNE _by the hair_. CAPT. Come, bring her forward; tie her to that tree, each man shall have his turn: come, minion, you must [now] squench the raging flames of my concupiscence: what, do you weep, you puritanical punk? I shall tickle mirth into you by and by. Trotter, good Trotter, post unto my cell, make compound of muskadine and eggs; for the truth is I am a giant in my promises, but in the act a pigmy: I am old, and cannot do as I have done; good Trotter, make all convenient speed. TROT. Faith, master, if you cannot, here's them that can ferret in a coney-burrow without a provocative; I'll warrant you, good master. CAPT. No more, I say, it is a parcel of excellent mutton: I'll cut it up myself. Come, minion. [_Exit_ TROTTER. _The Captain takes his dagger and winds it about her hair, and sticks it in the ground. Thunder and lightning._ EVAD. Kill me! O, kill me! Rather let me die Than live to see the jewel that adorns The souls of virtuous virgins ravish'd from me. Do not add sin to sin, and at a price That ruins me, and not enriches you, Purchase damnation: do not, do not do't. Sheathe here your sword, and my departing soul, Like your good angel, shall solicit Heaven To dash out your offences: let my flight Be pure and spotless: do not injure that Manhood would blush to think on: it is all A maid's divinity: wanting her life, She's a fair corse; wanting her chastity, A spotted soul of living infamy. CAPT. Hang chastity! 3D BAN. A very voice. _Enter_ TROTTER.