_Phy._ One moneth is too little For me to repent in for my former pleasure, To go still on, unless I were sure she would kill me, And kill me delicately before my day, Make it up a year, for by that time I must dye, My body will hold out no longer. _Fred._ No Sir, it must be but a moneth. _Law._ Then farewel Madam, This is like to be a great year of dissention Among good people, and I dare not lose it, There will [b]e money got. _Capt._ Bless your good Ladiship, there's nothing in the grave but bones and ashes, In Taverns there's good wine, and excellent wenches, And Surgeons while we live. _Cutp._ Adieu sweet Lady, Lay me when I am dead near a rich Alderman, I cannot pick his Purse, no, I'le no dying, Though I steal Linnen, I'le not steal my shrowd yet. _All._ Send ye a happy match. [_Exeunt._ _Fool._ And you all halters, you have deserved 'em richly. These do all Villanies, and mischiefs of all sorts, yet those they fear not, To flinch where a fair wench is at the stake. _Evan._ Come, your sentence, let me dye: you see, Sir, None of your valiant men dare venture on me, A Moneth's a dangerous thing. _Enter_ Valerio _disguis'd._ _Fred._ Away with her, let her dye instantly. _Evan._ Will you then be willing To dye at the time prefixt? that I must know too, And know it beyond doubt. _Fred._ What if I did wench? _Evan._ On that condition if I had it certain, I would be your any thing, and you should injoy me, How ever in my nature I abhor you, Yet as I live I would be obedient to you; But when your time came how I should rejoyce, How then I should bestir my self to thank ye, To see your throat cut, how my heart would leap, Sir! I would dye with you, but first I would so torture ye, And cow you in your end, so despise you, For a weak and wretched coward, you must end sure; Still make ye fear, and shake, despised, still laugh at ye. _Fred._ Away with her, let her dye instantly. _Cam._ Stay, there's another, and a Gentleman, His habit shews no less, may be his business Is for this Ladies love. _Fred._ Say why ye come, Sir, and what you are. _Val._ I am descended nobly, a Prince by birth, and by my trade a Souldier, A Princes fellow, _Abidos_ brought me forth, My Parents Duke _Agenor_, and fair _Egla_, My business hither to renew my love With a young noble spirit, call'd _Valerio_; Our first acquaintance was at Sea, in fight Against a Turkish man of War, a stout one, Where Lyon-like I saw him shew his valour, And as he had been made of compleat vertue, Spirit, and fire, no dregs of dull earth in him. _Evan._ Thou art a brave Gentleman, and bravely speakest him.