_Mart._ He's an impudent villain, Or a malicious wretch: to you ungrateful; To me beyond expression barbarous. I more then hate him; from you he deserves A death most horrid: from me, to dye for ever, And know no end of torments. Would you have comfort? Would you wash off the stain that sticks upon you, In being refus'd? Would you redeem your fame, Shipwrack'd in his base wrongs? if you desire this, It is not to be done with slavish suffering, But by a Noble anger, making way To a most brave revenge, we may call justice; Our injuries are equal; joyn with me then, And share the honor. _Jul._ I scarce understand you, And know I shall be most unapt to learn To hate the man I still must love and honor. _Mar._ This foolish dotage in soft-hearted women, Makes proud men insolent: but take your way, I'll run another course. _Jul._ As you are noble, Deliver his offence. _Mart._ He has denied The rites due to a wife. _Jul._ O me most happy, How largely am I payd for all my sufferings! Most honest _Virolet_, thou just performer Of all thy promises: I call to mind now, When I was happy in those joys you speak of, In a chast bed, and warranted by Law too, He oft would swear, that if he should survive me, (Which then I knew he wisht not) never woman Should tast of his embraces; this one act Makes me again his debtor. _Mart._ And was this The cause my youth and beauty were contemn'd? If I sit down here! wel---- _Jul._ I dare thy worst, Plot what thou canst, my piety shall guard him Against thy malice. Leave my house and quickly, Thou wilt infect these innocent walls. By virtue I will inform him of thy bloody purpose, And turn it on thine own accursed head; Believ't I will. [_Exit Juliana._ _Mart._ But 'tis not in thy power To hinder what I have decreed against him. I'll set my self to sale, and live a strumpet; Forget my birth, my father, and his honor, Rather then want an instrument to help me In my revenge. The Captain of the guard; Blest opportunity courts me. _Enter_ Ronvere. _Ron._ Sad and troubled? How brave her anger shews! how it sets off Her natural beauty! under what happy star Was _Virolet_ born, to be belov'd and sought to, By two incomparable women? noblest Lady, I have heard your wrongs and pitty them: and if The service of my life could give me hope To gain your favor, I should be most proud To be commanded. _Mart._ 'Tis in you, my Lord, To make me your glad servant. _Ron._ Name the means. _Mar._ 'Tis not preferment, Jewels, Gold, or Courtship. He that desires to reap the harvest of My youth and beauty, must begin in blood, And right my wrongs.