_L. Dupe._ Not married! 'tis impossible; the girl does sure abuse you. I know her education has been such, the flesh could not prevail; therefore, she does abuse you, it must be so. _Lord._ Madam, not to abuse you longer, she is with child, and I the unfortunate man, who did this most unlucky act. _L. Dupe._ You! I'll never believe it. _Lord._ Madam, 'tis too true; believe it, and be serious how to hide her shame; I beg it here upon my knees. _L. Dupe._ Oh, oh, oh! [_She faints away._ _Lord._ Who's there? Who's there? Help, help, help! _Enter two women_, ROSE, _and Mrs_ MILLISENT. _1 Wom._ O merciful God, my lady's gone! _2 Wom._ Whither? _1 Wom._ To heaven; God knows, to heaven! _Rose._ Rub her, rub her; fetch warm clothes! _2 Wom._ I say, run to the cabinet of quintessence; Gilbert's water! Gilbert's water! _1 Wom._ Now all the good folks of heaven look down upon her! _Mill._ Set her in the chair. _Rose._ Open her mouth with a dagger or a key; pour, pour! Where's the spoon? _2 Wom._ She stirs! she revives! merciful to us all! what a thing was this? speak, lady, speak! _L. Dupe._ So, so, so! _Mill._ Alas! my lord, how came this fit? _Lord._ With sorrow, madam. _L. Dupe._ Now I am better: Bess, you have not seen me thus? _1 Wom._ Heaven forefend that I should live to see you so again. _L. Dupe._ Go, go, I'm pretty well; withdraw into the next room; but be near, I pray, for fear of the worst. [_They go out_.] My lord, sit down near me, I pray; I'll strive to speak a few words to you, and then to bed; nearer, my voice is faint. My lord, heaven knows how I have ever loved you; and is this my reward? Had you none to abuse but me in that unfortunate fond girl, that you know was dearer to me than my life? This was not love to her, but an inveterate malice to poor me. Oh, oh! [_Faints again._ _Lord._ Help, help, help! _All the women again._ _1 Wom._ This fit will carry her: Alas, it is a lechery! _2 Wom._ The balsam, the balsam! _1 Wom._ No, no, the chemistry oil of rosemary: Hold her up, and give her air. _Mill._ Feel whether she breathes, with your hand before her mouth. _Rose._ No, madam, 'tis key-cold. _1 Wom._ Look up, dear madam, if you have any hope of salvation! _2 Wom._ Hold up your finger, madam, if you have any hope of fraternity. O the blessed saints, that hear me not, take her mortality to them! _L. Dupe._ Enough, so, 'tis well--withdraw, and let me rest a while; only my dear lord remain. _1 Wom._ Pray your lordship keep her from swebbing. [_Exeunt women._ _Lord._ Here humbly, once again, I beg your pardon and your help. _L. Dupe._ Heaven forgive you, and I do: Stand up, my lord, and sit close by me: O this naughty girl! But did your lordship win her soon? _Lord._ No, madam, but with much difficulty.