_Gons_. I cannot go 'till I behold you happy:-- --Here, Rodorick, receive her on thy knees; Use her with that respect, which thou would'st pay Thy guardian angel, if he could be seen. --Do not provoke my anger by refusing.-- I'll watch thy least offence to her; each word, Nay, every sullen look;-- And, as the devils, who are damned to torments, Yet have the guilty souls their slaves to punish; So, under me, while I am wretched, thou Shalt be tormented.-- _Rod_. Would'st thou make me the tenant of thy lust, To toil, and for my labour take the dregs, The juicy vintage being left for thee? No: she's an infamous, lewd prostitute: I loath her at my soul. _Gons_. I can forbear No longer: swallow down thy lie, foul villain. [_They fight off the stage. Exeunt_. _Jul_. Help, help! _Amid_. Here is that witch, whose fatal beauty Began the mischief; she shall pay for all. [_Goes to kill JULIA_. _Hip_. I hate her for it more than thou canst do; But cannot see her die, my master loves. [_Goes between with her sword_. _Enter_ GONSALVO, _following_ RODORICK, _who falls_. _Rod_. So, now I am at rest:-- I feel death rising higher still, and higher, Within my bosom; every breath I fetch Shuts up my life within a shorter compass, And, like the vanishing sound of bells, grows less And less each pulse, 'till it be lost in air. [_Swoons away_. _Gons_. Down at your feet, much injured innocence, I lay that sword, which-- _Jul_. Take it up again; It has not done its work 'till I am killed: For ever, ever, thou hast robbed me of That man, that only man, whom I could love: Dost thou thus court thy mistress? thus oblige her? All thy obligements have been fatal yet, Yet the most fatal now would most oblige me. Kill me:--yet I am killed before in him. I lie there on the ground; cold, cold, and pale: That death, I die in Roderick, is far More pleasant than that life, I live in Julia.-- --See how he stands--when he is bid dispatch me! How dull! how spiritless! that sloth possest Thee not, when thou didst kill my Roderick. _Gons_. I'm too unlucky to converse with men: I'll pack together all my mischiefs up, Gather with care each little remnant of them, That none of them be left behind: Thus loaded, Fly to some desert, and there let them loose, Where they may never prey upon mankind. But you may make my journey shorter:--Take This sword; 'twill shew you how:-- _Jul_.I'll gladly set you on your way:-- [_Takes his sword_. _Enter three of_ RODORICK'S _servants_. _1 Serv_. Make haste; he's now unarmed, we may with ease Revenge my master's death. _Jul_. Now these shall do it. _Gons_. I'll die by none but you.-- _Hip_. O here, take my sword, sir. _Amid_. He shall have mine. [_Both give their swords_ to GONSALVO. _Enter MANUEL_. _Man_. Think not of death. We'll live and conquer. [_They beat them off_. _Man_. These fellows, though beat off, will strait return With more; we must make haste to save ourselves.