Beaumont and Fletcher's Works, Vol. 07 of 10Fletcher, John
General
Beaumont and Fletcher's Works, Vol. 07 of 10
Fletcher, John
English drama
_Cla._ Then by thy oath _Vitelli_,
Thy dreadfu[l] oath, thou wouldst return that Sword
When I should ask it, give it to me, now,
This instant I require it.
_Gen._ By thy vow,
As dreadful _Lucio_, to obey my will
In any one thing I would watch to challenge,
I charge thee not to strike a stroak: now he
Of our two brothers that loves perjury
Best, and dares first be damn'd, infringe his vow.
_Say._ Excellent Ladies.
_Vit._ Pish, you tyrannize.
_Luc._ We did equivocate.
_Alv._ On.
_Cla._ Then _Lucio_,
So well I love my husband, for he is so,
(Wanting but ceremony) that I pray
His vengeful sword may fall upon thy head
Succesfully for false-hood to his Sister.
_Gen._ I likewise pray (_Vitelli_) _Lucio's_ sword
(Who equally is my husband as thou hers)
May find thy false heart, that durst gage thy faith,
And durst not keep it.
_Assist._ Are you men, or stone.
_Alv._ Men, and we'll prove it with our swords:
_Eug._ Your hearing for six words, and we have done,
_Zancho_ come forth--we'll fight our challenge too:
Now speak your resolutions.
[_Enter_ Bob[a]dilla _with two swords and a Pistol_.
_Gen._ These they are,
The first blow given betwixt you, sheathes these swords
In one anothers bosomes.
_Eug._ And rogue, look
You at that instant do discharge that Pistol
Into my breast: if you start back, or quake,
I'll stick you like a Pig.
_Alv._ --Hold, you are mad.
_Gen._ This we said: and by our hope of bliss
This we will do: speak your intents.
_Cla. Gen._ Strike.
_Eug._ Shoot.
_A[l]. Vit. L[u]. La._ Hold, hold: all friends.
_Assist._ Come down.
_Alv._ These devilish women
Can make men friends and enemies when they list.
_Say._ A gallant undertaking and a happy;
Why this is noble in you: and will be
A welcomer present to our Master _Philip_
Than the return from his _Indies_.
_Enter_ Clara, Genevora, Eugenia, _and_ Bobadilla.
_Cla._ Father, your blessing.
_Alv._ Take her: if ye bring not
Betwixt you, boys that will find out new worlds,
And win 'em too, I'm a false Prophet.
_Vit._ Brother.
There is a Sister, long divided streams
Mix now at length, by fate.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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