Playes written by the thrice noble, illustrious and excellent princess, the Lady Marchioness of Newcastle.

Scene 42.

Enter Sir Francis Inconstant as sick upon a Couch, he being alone.

SIr Francis Inconstant.

This feigned Sickness shall serve as a snare, to catch my Wives design.

Enter the Lady Inconstant.

Lady Inconstant.

My dear heart how are you?

Francis Inconstant.

Very Sick, so Sick as I fear Heaven doth envy my happiness, and will part us by Death.

Lady Inconstant.

The Gods forbid! I hope you will live so long, as to Crown your Virtuous life with aged years.

Francis Inconstant.

O no, I find my life draws towards an end, and Death will separate us from each other; but you being young Wife, will soon for∣get me, placing your love upon some other Man, in whom, all the remem∣brance of me will be buried.

Lady Inconstant.

Dear Husband speak not so Melancholy; your words strike such terrour into my heart, as I cannot indure to hear them, I had ra∣ther Death should strike me, than you; Dear Husband, cheer up your self, your Disease is only Melancholly; wherefore take such nurishing things, as may give your Spirits strength and life; shall I bring you a little Burnt Wine, to comfort your Spirits, or some Jelly broath to strenghten your Stomack?

Francis Inconstant.

If you please VVife.

The Lady Inconstant goes out.

He alone.

Francis Inconstant.

Now for the poysoned Draught.

Enter the Lady with a Porrenger of Broath.

Lady Inconstant.

Here my dear heart, drink this.

He takes the Porrenger, and when it was in his hand, he rises and goeth to the Chamber Door, and locks it.

Lady Inconstant.

VVhat mean you Husband to lock the Door?

Francis Inconstant.

Because none shall enter, untill the Broath be drunk VVife.

She seems to be afraid, and desires to go forth of the Chamber.

He stays her.

Francis Inconstant.

No Wife, you must not go out, for I mean to nourish you with that Broath that you would have nourished me with.

Lady Inconstant.

Why Husband I am not Sick, I do not require Broath.

Francis Inconstant.

O yes VVife, your Soul is Sick, although your Body is well, and this Broath may perchance cure the one, although it kills the other; wherefore drink it.

Lady Inconstant.

I will not.

Francis Inconstant.

You shall, and if you drink it not willingly, I will force it down you throat.

Lady Inconstant.

Dear Husband spare me.

Francis Inconstant.

Why, I give you nothing but that which you prepared for me, and if it were good for me, it is good for you.

Lady Inconstant.

Dear Husband have mercy on me, and I will confess my crimes.

Francis Inconstant.

No VVife, no more mercy than you would have had one me, and therefore drink it:

Lady Inconstant.

'Tis Poyson Husband.

Francis Inconstant.

That is the reason you shall drink it VVife.

Lady Inconstant.

Dear Husband, let me live but to repent my sinns, which like a black thick cloud do cover all my Soul.

Francis Inconstant.

This will be a sufficient punishment, for if you be pu∣nished in this World, you may escape the punishment of the next.

Lady Inconstant.

Good Husband consider youth, that is apt to run into er∣rors, not being guided with good Counsel, as it ought.

Francis Inconstant.

I will consider nothing, and therefore drink it, or by Heaven I will force you to it, and therefore linger not.

The Lady Inconstant takes the Cap, and then kneels and lifts up her eyes to∣wards Heaven, and then prayes.

Lady Inconstant.

You Gods forgive me my crimes, and let this deadly draught purge clean my Soul from sin.

She drinks the poysoned Broath.

Francis Inconstant.

Now VVife have you any Amorous desires to Monsieur Disguise.

Lady Inconstant.

No, the fire of my unlawfull love is quencht.

She sinks to the ground, Heaven receive my Soul; O, O, Husband forgive me.

Dies.

Francis Inconstant.

Ha she is dead, what hath my furious passion done, I was too sudden to crop her tender life so hastily, without more strickt exa∣minations; for it was likely thus spruse Gallant corrupted her with his al∣luring

looks, and smoth inticing words, which he knew well how to apply; and youth is credulous, and women soon perswaded, and being joyned in one they easily are overcome. I do repent.

He walks a turn or two in a Me∣lancholy muse.

I will revenge my self of those that were the cause.

Exeunt.