_Gab._ By the Devil? _Lav._ Come, And lull me with delights. _Gab._ It works amain now. _Lav._ Give me such kisses as the Queen of shadows Gave to the sleeping boy she stole on _Latmus_; Look round about in snakie wreathes close folded, Those rosie arms about my neck, O! _Venus_. _Gab._ Fear not, I say. _Lav._ Thou admirable sweetness, Distill thy blessings like those silver drops, That falling on fair grounds, rise all in roses: Shoot me a thousand darts from those fair eyes, And through my heart transfix 'em all, I'll stand 'em. Send me a thousand smiles, and presently I'll catch 'em in mine eyes, and by Love's power Turn 'em to _Cupids_ all, and fling 'em on thee, How high she looks, and heavenly! More wine for me. _Ga._ Give him more wine, and good friend be not fearful. _Lav._ Here on my knee, thou Goddess of delights, This lustie grape I offer to thy Beauties; See how it leaps to view that perfect redness That dwels upon thy lips: now, how it blushes To be outblush'd. Oh! let me feed my fancie, And as I hold the purple god in one hand Dancing about the bri[m] and proudly swelling, Deck'd in the pride of nature young, and blowing; So let me take fair _Semele_ in the other, And sing the loves of gods, then drink, their Nectar's Not yet desir'd. _Casta._ Oh! _Lav._ Then like lustie _Tarquin_ Turn'd into flames with _Lucrece_ coy denyals, His blood and spirit equally ambitious, I force thee for my own. _Casta._ O help me Justice: Help me, my Chastitie. _Lav._ Now I am bravely quarried. [_Perolot above._ _Per._ 'Tis my Sister. _Gab._ No, bawdy slave, no Treacher, she is not carried. _Per._ She's loose again, and gone. I'll keep my place still. _Mar._ Now it works bravely: stand, he cannot hurt ye. _Lav._ O my sweet Love, my life. [_He falls downe, and sleeps._ _Mar._ He sinks. _Lav._ My blessing. _Mar._ So, now he is safe a while. _Gab._ Lock all the doors, wench, Then for my wrongs. _Per._ Now I'll appear to know all. _Gab._ Be quick, quick, good _Marie_, sure and sudden. _Per._ Stay, I must in first. _Gab._ O' my conscience! It is young _Perol[o]t_: Oh my stung conscience! It is my first and noblest Love. _Mar._ Leave wondring, And recollect your self: the man is living, Equally wrong'd as you, and by that Devil. _Per._ 'Tis most true, Lady: your unhappy fortune I grieve for as mine own, your fault forgive too, If it be one. This is no time for kisses: I have heard all, and known all, which mine ears Are crack'd apieces with, and my heart perish'd. I saw him in your chamber, saw his fury. And am afire till I have found his heart out. What do you mean to do? for I'll make one. _Gab._ To make his death more horrid (for he shall dye).