_Gom._ Thy heart? thou hast pierc'd through mine honor false one, The honor of my house, fool that I was, To give it up to the deceiving trust Of wicked woman: for thy sake vild creature, For all I have done well, in my life, I have dig'd a grave, all buried in a wife; For thee I have defi'd my constant Mistriss, That never fail'd her servant, glorious war; For thee, refus'd the fellowship of an Order Which Princes, through all dangers, have been proud To fetch as far as from _Jerusalem_: And am I thus rewarded? _Vel._ By all goodness, You wrong my Lady, and deserve her not, When you are at your best: repent your rashness, 'Twill show well in you. _Abd._ Do, and ask her pardon. _Ori._ No, I have liv'd too long, to have my faith (My tri'd faith) call'd in question, and by him That should know true affection is too tender To suffer an unkind touch, without ruine; Study ingratitude, all, from my example; For to be thankful now, is to be false. But be it so, let me dye, I see you wish it; Yet dead for truth, and pities sake, report What weapon you made choice of, when you kild me. _Vel._ She faints. _Abd._ What have ye done? _Ori._ My last breath cannot Be better spent, than to say I forgive you; Nor is my death untimely, since with me I take along, what might have been hereafter In scorn delivered for the doubtful issue Of a suspected mother. _Vel._ Oh, she's gone. _Abd._ For ever gone. Are you a man? _Gom._ I grow here. _Abd._ Open her mouth, and power this Cordial in it; If any spark of life be unquench'd in her, This will recover her. _Vel._ 'Tis all in vain, She's stiffe already: live I, and she dead? _Gom._ How like a murtherer I stand! look up, And hear me curse my self, or but behold The vengeance I will take for't _Oriana_, And then in peace forsake me: Jealousie, Thou loathsome vomit of the fiends below, What desperate hunger made me to receive thee Into my heart, and soul? I'll let thee forth, And so in death find ease; and does my fault then Deserve no greater punishment? no, I'll live To keep thee for a fury to torment me, And make me know what hell is on the earth: All joyes and hopes forsake me; all mens malice, And all the plagues they can inflict, I wish it Fall thick upon me: let my tears be laught at, And may mine enemies smile to hear me groane; And dead, may I be pitied of none. [_Exeunt._ _Scæna Tertia._ _Enter_ Collonna _and_ Lucinda. _Luc._ Pray you Sir why was the Ordnance of the Fort Discharg'd so sodainly? _Col._ 'Twas the Governors pleasure, In honor of the _Dane_, a custom us'd, To speak a Soldiers welcome. _Luc._ 'Tis a fit one: But is my Master here too? _Col._ Three days since.