Bess. Tell him from me, I’ll come, I’ll run, I’ll fly, Stand death before me; were I sure to die. [_Exeunt_. SCENE IV.--_The Hoe_. _Enter_ Spencer _and_ Captain Goodlack. Goodlack. You are too full of passion. To have the guilt of murder burden me; And next, my life in hazard to a death So ignominious; last, to lose a love. Spencer. Canst thou blame me, So sweet, so fair, so amorous, and so chaste, And all these at an instant! Art thou sure Carrol is dead? Goodlack. I can believe no less. You hit him in the very speeding place. Spencer. Oh! but the last of these sits near’st my heart. Goodlack. Sir, be advised by me: Try her, before you trust her. She, perchance, May take the advantage of your hopeful fortunes; But when she finds you subject to distress And casualty, her flattering love may die, Your hopes deceased. Spencer. Thou counsell’st well. I’ll put her to the test and utmost trial, Before I trust her further. Here she comes. _Enter_ Fawcett, _and_ Bess _with a bag_. Fawcett. I have done my message, sir. Bess. Fear not, sweet Spencer; we are now alone, And thou art sanctuarèd in these mine arms. Goodlack. While these confer, we’ll sentinel their safety. This place I’ll guard. Fawcett. I this. Bess. Are you not hurt, Or your skin rased with his offensive steel? How is it with you? Spencer. Bess, all my afflictions Are that I must leave thee: thou know’st, withal, My extreme necessity, and that the fear Of a most scandalous death doth force me hence. I am not near my country; and to stay For new supply from thence might deeply engage me To desperate hazard. Bess. Is it coin you want? Here is the hundred pound you gave me late: Use that, beside what I have stored and saved, Which makes it fifty more. Were it ten thousand, Nay, a whole million, Spencer, all were thine. Spencer. No; what thou hast, keep still; ’tis all thine own. Here be my keys: my trunks take to thy charge: Such gold fit for transportage as I have, I’ll bear along: the rest are freely thine. Money, apparel, and what else thou find’st, Perhaps worth my bequest and thy receiving, I make thee mistress of. Bess. Before, I doted; But now you strive to have me ecstasied. What would you have me do, in which to express My zeal to you? Spencer. I enjoin thee to keep Ever my picture, which in my chamber hangs; For when thou part’st with that, thou losest me. Bess. My soul may from my body be divorced, But never that from me. Spencer. I have a house in Foy, a tavern called The Windmill; that I freely give thee, too; And thither, if I live, I’ll send to thee. Bess. So soon as I have cast my reckonings up, And made even with my master, I’ll not fail To visit Foy, in Cornwall. Is there else Aught that you will enjoin me?