_Val._ 'Tis a noble one, and I am much in love with malice for it, Envy could not have studied me a way, Nor fortune pointed out a path to Honour, Straighter and nobler, if she had her eyes; When I have once enjoy'd my sweet _Evanthe_, And blest my Youth with her most dear embraces, I have done my journey here, my day is out, All that the World has else is foolery, Labour, and loss of time; what should I live for? Think but mans life a Month, and we are happy. I would not have my joys grow old for any thing; A Paradise, as thou art, my _Evanthe_, Is only made to wonder at a little, Enough for human eyes, and then to wander from. Come, do not weep, sweet, you dishonour me, Your tears and griefs but question my ability, Whether I dare dye; Do you love intirely? _Evan._ You know I do. _Val._ Then grudge not my felicity. _Evan._ I'll to the Queen. _Val._ Do any thing that's honest, But if you sue to him, in Death I hate you. [_Exeunt._ _Actus Secundus. Scena Prima._ _Enter_ Camillo, Cleanthes, _and_ Menallo. _Cam._ Was there ever heard of such a Marriage? _Men._ Marriage and Hanging go by destiny, 'Tis the old Proverb, now they come together. _Cle._ But a Month married, then to lose his life for't? I would have a long Month sure, that pays the Souldiers. _Enter_ Tony _with Urinal._ _Cam._ Or get all the Almanacks burnt, that were a rare trick, And have no Month remembred. How now _Tony_? Whose water are you casting? _Tony._ A sick Gentlemans, Is very sick, much troubled with the Stone, He should not live above a Month, by his Urine, About St. _David_'s Day it will go hard with him, He will then be troubled with a pain in his Neck too. _Men._ A pestilent fool; when wilt thou marry, _Tony_? _Ton._ When I mean to be hang'd, & 'tis the surer contract. _Cle._ What think you of this Marriage of _Valerio_'s? _Tony._ They have given him a hot Custard, and mean to burn his mouth with it; had I known he had been given to dye honourably, I would have helpt him to a Wench, a rare one, should have kill'd him in three weeks, and sav'd the sentence. _Cam._ There be them would have spared ten days of that too. _Tony._ It may be so, you have Women of all Vertues: There be some Guns that I could bring him too, Some mortar-pieces that are plac'd i'th' Suburbs, Would tear him into quarters in two hours, There be also of the race of the old Cockatrices, That would dispatch him with once looking on him. _Men._ What Month wouldst thou chuse, _Tony_, if thou hadst the like Fortune? _Tony._ I would chuse a mull'd sack-month, to comfort my Belly, for sure my Back would ake for't, and at the months end I would be most dismally drunk, & scorn the gallows.