_Tam._ O wretched piety, that art so distract In thine owne constancie, and in thy right Must be unrighteous. If I right my friend, I wrong my husband; if his wrong I shunne, 170 The duty of my friend I leave undone. Ill playes on both sides; here and there it riseth; No place, no good, so good, but ill compriseth. O had I never married but for forme; Never vow'd faith but purpos'd to deceive; 175 Never made conscience of any sinne, But clok't it privately and made it common; Nor never honour'd beene in bloud or mind; Happy had I beene then, as others are Of the like licence; I had then beene honour'd, 180 Liv'd without envie; custome had benumb'd All sense of scruple and all note of frailty; My fame had beene untouch'd, my heart unbroken: But (shunning all) I strike on all offence. O husband! deare friend! O my conscience! 185 _Mons._ Come, let's away; my sences are not proofe Against those plaints. _Exeunt Guise, Mon[sieur above]. D'Ambois is borne off._ _Mont._ I must not yeeld to pity, nor to love So servile and so trayterous: cease, my bloud, To wrastle with my honour, fame, and judgement. 190 Away! forsake my house; forbeare complaints Where thou hast bred them: here all things [are] full Of their owne shame and sorrow--leave my house. _Tam._ Sweet lord, forgive me, and I will be gone; And till these wounds (that never balme shall close 195 Till death hath enterd at them, so I love them, Being opened by your hands) by death be cur'd, I never more will grieve you with my sight; Never endure that any roofe shall part Mine eyes and heaven; but to the open deserts 200 (Like to a hunted tygres) I will flie, Eating my heart, shunning the steps of men, And look on no side till I be arriv'd. _Mont._ I doe forgive thee, and upon my knees (With hands held up to heaven) wish that mine honour 205 Would suffer reconcilement to my love: But, since it will not, honour never serve My love with flourishing object, till it sterve! And as this taper, though it upwards look, Downwards must needs consume, so let our love! 210 As, having lost his hony, the sweet taste Runnes into savour, and will needs retaine A spice of his first parents, till (like life) It sees and dies, so let our love! and, lastly, As when the flame is suffer'd to look up 215 It keepes his luster, but being thus turn'd downe (His naturall course of usefull light inverted) His owne stuffe puts it out, so let our love! Now turne from me, as here I turne from thee; And may both points of heavens strait axeltree 220 Conjoyne in one, before thy selfe and me! _Exeunt severally._ _Finis Actus Quinti & Ultimi._ LINENOTES: