_Ferd._ What sublunary mischief can predominate A wise man thus? or doth thy friendship play (In this antipathous extreme) with mine, Lest gladness suffocate me? I, I, I do feel My spirit's turn'd to fire, my blood to air, And I am like a purifi'd essence Tri'd from all drossie parts. _Ger._ Were 't but my life, The loss were sacrific'd; but virtue Must for me be slain, and innocence made dust. _Ferd._ Fare well good _Gerrard_. _Ger._ Dearest friend, stay. _Ferd._ Sad thoughts are no companions for me now, Much less sad words: thy bosom bindes some secret, Which do not trust me with; for mine retains Another, which I must conceal from thee. _Ger._ I would reveal it: 't is a heavie tale: Canst thou be true, and secret still? _Ferd._ Why, friend? If you continue true unto your self, I have no means of falshood. Lock this door; Come, yet your prisoner's sure. _Ger._ Stay, _Ferdinand_. _Ferd._ What is this trouble? Love? Why, thou art capable of any woman. Doth want oppress thee? I will lighten thee: Hast thou offended law? My Lord and thine, And I, will save thy life. Does servitude Upbraid thy freedom, that she suffers it? Have patience but three days, and I will make thee Thy Lords companion. Can a friend do more? _Ger._ Lend me the means. How can this be? _Ferd._ First let this Cabinet keep your pawn, and I will trust: Yet for the form of satisfaction, Take this my Oath to boot. By my presum'd Gentrie, and sacred known Christianitie, I'll die, ere I reveal thy trust. _Ger._ Then hear it. Your Lords fair daughter _Violanta_ is My betrothed wife, goes great with childe by me; And by this deed both made a pr[e]y to Law. How may I save her life? advise me, friend. _Ferd._ What did he say? _Gerrard_, whose voice was that? O death unto my heart, bane to my soul! My wealth is vanish'd like the rich mans store: In one poor minute all my daintie fare But jugling dishes; my fat hope, despair. _Ger._ Is this so odious? where's your mirth? _Ferd._ Why thou Hast robb'd me of it. _Gerrard_, draw thy sword; And if thou lov'st my Mistris chastitie, Defend it, else I'll cut it from thy heart, Thy theevish heart that stole it, and restore 't, Do miracles to gain her. _Ger._ Was she thine? _Ferd._ Never, but in my wish, and her fathers vow, Which now he left with me, on such sure terms; He call'd me son, and will'd me to provide My Wedding-preparation. _Ger._ Strange. _Ferd._ Come, let's Kill one another quickly. _Ger. Ferdinand_, my love is old to her, thine new begot: I have not wrong'd thee; think upon thine Oath.