_Cal._ Ye shall err for once, I have a kind of noble pity on you, Among your manly sufferings, make this most, To err no farther in desire, for then, Sir, You add unto the gratitudes I owe you; And after death, your dear friends soul shall bless you. _Lis._ I am wondrous honest. _Cal._ I dare try. [_Kisses._ _Lis._ I have tasted a blessedness too great for dull mortality, Once more, and let me dye. _Cal._ I dare not murther, How will maids curse me if I kill with kisses! And young men flye th' embraces of fair Virgins? Come, pray sit down, but let's talk temperately. _Lis._ Is my dear friend abed? _Cal._ Yes, and asleep; Secure asleep, 'tis midnight too, _Lisander_, Speak not so loud. _Lis._ You see I am a Statue, I could not stand else as I had eaten Ice, Or took into my bloud a drowzie Poyson, And Natures noblest, brightest flame burns in me; Midnight? and I stand quietly to behold it so? The Alarm rung, and I sleep like a Coward? I am worn away, my faith, my dull obedience Like Crutches, carry my decayed Body Down to the Grave, I have no youth within me, Yet happily you love too. _Cal._ Love with honour. _Lis._ Honour? what's that? 'tis but a specious title We should not prize too high. _Cal._ Dearer than life. _Lis._ The value of it is as time hath made it, And time and custome have too far insulted, We are no gods, to be always tyed to strictness, 'Tis a presumption to shew too like 'em; March but an hour or two under Loves Ensigns, We have Examples of great memories-- _Cal._ But foul ones too, that greatness cannot cover, That Wife that by Example sins, sins double, And pulls the Curtain open to her shame too; Methinks to enjoy you thus-- _Lis._ 'Tis no joy, Lady, A longing Bride if she stop here, would cry, The Bridegroom too, and with just cause curse _Hymen_; But yield a little, be one hour a Woman, (I do not speak this to compel you, Lady) And give your Will but motion, let it stir But in the taste of that weak fears call evil, Try it to understand it, we'll do nothing, You'll ne'r come to know pure good else. _Cal._ Fie, Sir. _Lis._ I have found a way, let's slip into this errour As Innocents, that know not what we did; As we were dreaming both, let us embrace; The sin is none of ours then, but our fancies; What have I said? what blasphemy to honour? O my base thoughts! pray ye take this and shoot me. My Villain thoughts! [_Noise within._ _Cal._ I weep your miseries, and would to heaven--what noise? _Lis._ It comes on louder. Kill me, and save your self; save your fair honour, And lay the fault on me, let my life perish, My base lascivious life, shoot quickly, Lady.