_Jul._ This woman threats, her eyes, even red with fury Which like prodigious meteors, foretold Assur'd destruction, are still before me. Besides I know such natures unacquainted With any mean, or in their love, or hatred, And she that dar'd all dangers to possess him, Will check at nothing, to revenge the loss Of what she held so dear, I first discover'd Her bloody purposes, which she made good, And openly profess'd 'em; that in me Was but a cold affection; charity Commands so much to all; for _Virolet_ Methinks I should forget my Sexes weakness, Rise up, and dare beyond a womans strength; Then do, not counsel: he is too secure, And in my judgment, 'twere a greater service To free him from a deadly Enemy, Then to get him a friend. I undertook too, To cross her plots, oppos'd my piety, Against her malice; and shall vertue suffer? No _Martia_, wer't thou here equally armed, I have cause, spite of thy masculine breeding, That would assure the victory: my angel Direct and help me. _Enter_ Virolet, _like_ Ronvere. _Vir._ The State in Combustion, Part of the Cittadel forc'd, the treasure seiz'd on; The guards corrupted, arm themselves against Their late protected Master; _Ferrant_ fled too, And with small strength, into the Castle's Tower, The only _Aventine_, that now is left him! And yet the undertakers, nay, performers, Of such a brave and glorious enterprize, Are yet unknown: they did proceed like men, I like a child; and had I never trusted So deep a practice unto shallow fools, Besides my souls peace, in my _Juliana_, The honor of this action had been mine, In which, accurs'd, I now can claim no share. _Jul. Ronvere!_ 'tis he, a thing, next to the devil I most detest and like him terrible; _Martia's_ right hand, the instrument I fear too, That is put to her bloody will, into act. Have I not will enough, and cause too mighty? Weak womens fear, fly from me. _Vir._ Sure this habit, This likeness to _Ronvere_, which I have studied, Either admits me safe to my design, Which I too cowardly have halted after, And suffer'd to be ravisht from my glory; Or sinks me and my miseries together; Either concludes me happy. _Jul._ He stands musing, Some mischief is now hatching: In the full meditation, of his wickedness, I'll sink his cursed soul: guide my hand heaven, And to my tender arm give strength, and fortune, That I may do a pious deed, all ages Shall bless my name for; all remembrance crown me. _Vir._ It shall be so. _Jul._ It shall not, take that token, And bear it to the lustful arms of _Martia_, Tell her, for _Virolets_ dear sake, I sent it.