_Cast._ O God! Is Thy unlimited and infinite Omnipotence less free because thou doest No ill? Or if you argue merely out of nature, Do you not degenerate from that, and are You not unworthy the prerogative Of Nature's masterpiece, when basely you Prescribe yourself authority and law From their examples whom you should command? I could confute you, but the horror of The argument confutes my understanding.-- Sir, I know you do but try me in Your son's behalf, suspecting that My strength And youth of blood cannot contain themselves With impotence.--Believe me, sir, I never wronged him. If it be your lust, O quench it on their prostituted flesh Whose trade of sin can please desire with more Delight and less offence.--The poison o' your breath, Evaporated from so foul a soul, Infects the air more than the damps that rise From bodies but half rotten in their graves. _D'Am._ Kiss me. I warrant thee my breath is sweet. These dead men's bones lie here of purpose to Invite us to supply the number of The living. Come we'll get young bones, and do't. I will enjoy thee. No? Nay then invoke Your great supposed protector; I will do't. _Cast._ Supposed protector! Are ye an atheist? Then I know my prayers and tears are spent in vain. O patient Heaven! Why dost thou not express Thy wrath in thunderbolts to tear the frame Of man in pieces? How can earth endure The burthen of this wickedness without An earthquake? Or the angry face of Heaven Be not inflamed with lightning? _D'Am._ Conjure up The devil and his dam: cry to the graves: The dead can hear thee: invocate their help. _Cast._ O would this grave might open and my body Were bound to the dead carcass of a man, For ever, ere it entertain the lust Of this detested villain! _D'Am._ Tereus-like Thus I will force my passage to-- _Charl._ The Devil! [CHARLEMONT _rises in the disguise, and frightens_ D'AMVILLE _away._ Now, lady, with the hand of Charlemont I thus redeem you from the arm of lust. --My Castabella! _Cast._ My dear Charlemont! _Charl._ For all my wrongs I thank thee, gracious Heaven. Th'ast made me satisfaction to reserve Me for this blessed purpose. Now, sweet Death, I'll bid thee welcome. Come, I'll guide thee home, And then I'll cast myself into the arms Of apprehension,[172] that the law may make This worthy work the crown of all my actions, Being the best and last. _Cast._ The last? The law? Now Heaven forbid! What ha' you done? _Charl._ Why, I have Killed a man; not murdered him, my Castabella. He would ha' murdered me. _Cast._ Then, Charlemont, The hand of Heaven directed thy defence. That wicked atheist! I suspect his plot. _Charl._ My life he seeks. I would he had it, since He has deprived me of those blessings that Should make me love it. Come, I'll give it him.