+Duke.+ What makes you thus incens'd against him? +Ama.+ Heaven knows I have too much cause, sir. I have Lov'd him long, and the day he was your prisoner, Should have been our wedding. News being brought To me in my own country, that he was To die, in flying haste I took this tedious Journey; with sorrow and with joy I here Arrived; tears in my eyes for his approaching Death, smiles on my cheeks to think of dying With him; but when I came unto the prison gate I met the jailor, and he told me all, Then let me in, and to Rejoice my eyes, I saw two devils lie In chains together, and not half so fast As chain'd in love. All my intended kisses then I chang'd Into as many curses on his heart, Which with my eyes I spoke as well as tongue. +Duke.+ Alas! poor injur'd maid, we must be one Another's Petitioners; thy fate is mine; That woman which you saw with him has prov'd As false to me, as he to you. +Ama.+ For heaven's Sake, sir, let 'em die both; no sight would please Us like their blood; the jailor Told me they lie as close together all day As if they were not two. +Duke.+ O, curse on 'em! +Ama.+ O, the devil take 'em! pray, sir, give order That they may be brought immediately To execution. +Duke.+ I will. +Ama.+ I'll go call the jailor, sir. [_Steps to the prison._ _Enter +Jailor+._ +Duke.+ Jailor, let the prisoners be brought to Execution straight, I'll be there myself. +Ama.+ And I too, sir. +Duke.+ You shall; we'll go together. [_Exeunt._ ACT V. _Enter +All Ladies+, +Nurses+, +Pinguister+, and +Lean-man+, as in the vault; +Philidor+ as a Crier._ +Phil.+ _O yes, O yes, O yes! did any man hear tale_ Or tidings of three nurses, called Three Flanders Mares, with three sucking colts?-- +All Nurses.+ Hark, we are cried In the streets. +Phil.+ And also six maiden ladies, that should Have been married to a certain Promising gentleman?-- +All Ladies.+ Devil! we are Cried too. +Phil.+ Also a very lean gentleman, That must be fatter before he's married?-- +Lean-man.+ Hark, that is I? +Phil.+ And the hugest loss of All is one Master Pinguister, a lovely Fat gentleman, whom all that knew him, doubt him To be dead upon some privy-house; because He purged every day for love, by reason Mistress Mirida would not marry him till A certain measure that she[75] has will come About his waist-- _Enter +Mirida+._ +Ping.+ Crier, I am here, I am here. +Phil.+ If any can bring news of the six aforesaid Virgin ladies, or of the three Flanders nurses And colts, to one Master Philidor, a very Conscientious young man-- +Omnes.+ A pox take him!