_Har. Jun._ More than before--desired me to have killed her. Even when I had not left her power to speak, she curst me with her eyes. _Fisc._ Nay, then, you did not please her; if you had, she ne'er had cursed you heartily. But we lose time: Since you have done this action, 'tis necessary you proceed; we must have no tales told. _Har. Jun._ What do you mean? _Fisc._ To dispatch her immediately; could you be so senseless to ravish her, and let her live? What if her husband should have found her? What if any other English? Come, there's no dallying; it must be done: My other plot is ripe, which shall destroy them all to-morrow. _Har. Jun._ I love her still to madness, and never can consent to have her killed. We'll thence remove her, if you please, and keep her safe till your intended plot shall take effect; and when her husband's gone, I'll win her love by every circumstance of kindness. _Fisc._ You may do so; but t'other is the safer way: But I'll not stand with you for one life. I could have wished that Towerson had been killed before I had proceeded to my plot; but since it cannot be, we must go on; conduct me where you left her. _Har. Jun._ Oh, that I could forget both act and place! [_Exeunt._ SCENE III. SCENE _drawn, discovers_ ISABINDA _bound. Enter_ TOWERSON. _Tow._ Sure I mistook the place; I'll wait no longer: Something within me does forebode me ill; I stumbled when I entered first this wood; My nostrils bled three drops; then stopped the blood, And not one more would follow.-- What's that, which seems to bear a mortal shape, [_Sees_ ISA. Yet neither stirs nor speaks? or, is it some Illusion of the night? some spectre, such As in these Asian parts more frequently appear? Whate'er it be, I'll venture to approach it. [_Goes near._ My Isabinda bound and gagged! Ye powers, I tremble while I free her, and scarce dare Restore her liberty of speech, for fear Of knowing more. [_Unbinds her, and ungags her._ _Isab._ No longer bridegroom thou, nor I a bride; Those names are vanished; love is now no more; Look on me as thou would'st on some foul leper; And do not touch me; I am all polluted, All shame, all o'er dishonour; fly my sight, And, for my sake, fly this detested isle, Where horrid ills so black and fatal dwell, As Indians could not guess, till Europe taught. _Tow._ Speak plainer, I am recollected now: I know I am a man, the sport of fate; Yet, oh my better half, had heaven so pleased, I had been more content, to suffer in myself than thee!