_Ti._ No, I shall be too kind, that's the devil on't; I have had store of good wine: and when I am drunk, _Joan_ is a Lady to me, and I shall Lay about me like a Lord: I feel strange motions: Avoid me temptation. _Cro._ Come Sir, I'll help ye in. [_Exeunt._ _Enter_ Sebastian _and_ Nicusa. _Nicu._ What may that be That moves upon the Lake? _Sebast._ Still it draws nearer, And now I plainly can discern it. 'Tis the _French_ Ship. _Nicu._ In it a woman, Who seems to invite us to her. _Sebast._ Still she calls with signs of Love to hasten to her; So lovely hope doth still appear: I feel nor age, nor weakness. _Nicu._ Though it bring death, To us 'tis comfort: and deserves a meeting. Or else fortune tyr'd with what we have suffer'd, And in it overcome, as it may be, Now sets a period to our misery. [_Exeunt._ [_Horid Musick._ _Enter severally_, Raymond, Albert, Aminta. _Ray._ What dreadful sounds are these? _Amint._ Infernal Musick, Fit for a bloody Feast. _Alb._ It seems prepar'd To kill our courages e'r they divorce Our souls and bodies. _Ray._ But they that fearless fall, Deprive them of their triumph. [_An Altar prepar'd._ _Enter_ Rossillia, Clarinda, Juletta, Hippolita, &c. _Amin._ See the furies, In their full trym of cruelty.