Fifty comedies and tragedies written by Francis Beaumont and John Fletcher, Gentlemen ; all in one volume, published by the authors original copies, the songs to each play being added.

Actus Quartus.

Scena Prima.

Enter Alcidon, and Beronte, severally.

Alci.

YE are opportunely net.

Ber.

Your countenance expresses hast mixt with some fear.

Alci.

You'l share with me in both, as soon as you are made Acquainted with the cause, if you love vertue, In danger not secure; I have no time For circumstance, instruct me if Lisander Be in your Brothers house?

Ber.

Upon my knowledge he is not there.

Alci.

I am glad on't.

Ber.

Why good Sir? (Without offence I speak it) there's no place In which he is more honour'd, or more safe, Than with his friend Cleander.

Alci.

In your votes I grant it true, but as it now stands with him, I can give reason to make satisfaction For what I speak; you cannot but remember The ancient difference between Lisander And Cloridon, a man in grace at Court?

Ber.

I do; and the soul plot of Cloridons kinsman Upon Lisanders life, for a fall given to Cloridon 'Fore the King, as they encountred at a solemn tilting.

Alci.

It is now reveng'd: In brief, a challenge was brought to Lisander By one Chrysantes; and as far as valour Would give him leave, declin'd by bold Lisander: But peace refus'd, and braves on braves heap'd on him, Alone he met the opposites, ending the quarrel With both their lives.

Ber.

I am truly sorry for't.

Alci.

The King incensed for his favorites death, Hath set a price upon Lisanders head, As a reward to any man that brings it Alive, or dead; to gain this every where He is pursu'd, and laid for; and the friendship Between him and your noble Brother known, His house in reason cannot pass unsearcht, And that's the principal cause that drew me hither, To hasten his remove, if he had chosen This Castle for his sanctuary.

Ber.

'Twas done nobly, And you most welcom; this night pray you take A lodging with us; and at my intreaty Conceal this from my Brother, he is grown Exceeding sad of late; and the hard fortune Of one he values at so high a rate, Will much encrease his melancholy.

Alci.

I am tutor'd: pray you lead the way.

Ber.

To serve you I will shew it.

Exeunt.

Enter Cleander, with a Book.

Cle.

Nothing more certain than to dye, but when Is most uncertain: if so, every hour We should prepare us for the journey, which Is not to be put off, I must submit To the divine decree, not argue it, And chearfully I welcom it: I have Dispos'd of my estate, confess'd my sins, And have remission from my Ghosty Father, Being at peace too here: the apparition Proceeded not from fancy, Dorilaus Sav•• it, and heard it with me, it made answer To our demands, and promis'd, if 'twere not Deny'd to him by fate, he would forewarn me Of my approaching end, I feel no symptome Of sickness, yet I know not how a dulness Invades me all over. Ha?

Enter Host.

Host.

I come Sir, To keep my promise; and as far as spirits Are sensible of sorrow for the living, I grieve to be the messenger to tell you, E're many hours pass, you must resolve To fill a grave.

Cle.

And feast the worms?

Host.

Even so Sir.

Clea.

I hear it like a man.

Host.

It well becomes you, there's no evading it.

Cle.

Can you discover by whose means I must dye?

Host.

That is deny'd me: But my prediction is too sure; prepare To make your peace with heaven. So farewel Sir.

Ex.

Cle.

I see no enemy near; and yet I tremble Like a pale coward: my sad doom pronounc'd By this aerial voice, as in a glass Shews me my death in its most dreadfull shape. What rampire can my humane frailty raise Against the assault of fate? I do begin To fear my self, my inward strengths forsake me, I must call out for help. Within there? haste, And break in to my rescue.

Enter Dorilaus, Calista, Olinda, Beronte, Alcidon, Servants, and Clarinda, at several doors.

Dor.

Rescue? where? shew me your danger.

Cal.

I will interpose My loyall breast between you and all hazard.

Ber.

Your Brothers Sword secures you.

Alci.

A true friend will dye in your defence.

Clean.

I thank ye, To all my thanks, Encompass'd thus with friends How can I fear? and yet I do, I am wounded, Mortally wounded: nay it is within, I am hurt in my minde: One word—

Dor.

A thousand:

Cle.

I shall not live to speak so many to you.

Dor.

Why? what for bids you?

Cle.

But even now the spirit Of my dead Host appear'd, and told me, that This night I should be with him: did you not meet it? It went out at that door.

Dor.

A vain Chimera Of your imagination: can you think Mine Host would not as well have spoke to me now, As he did in the Inn? these waking dreams Not alone trouble you, but strike a strange Distraction in your Family: see the tears Of my poor Daughter, fai•• Olinda's sadness, Your Brothers, and your friends grief, servants sorrow. Good Son bear up, you have many years to live A comfort to us all: let's in to supper; Ghosts never walk till after mid-night, if I may believe my Grannam. We will wash These thoughts away with Wine, spight of Hobgoblins.

Cle.

You reprehend me justly: gentle Madam, And all the rest, forgive me, I'le endeavour To be merry with you.

Dor.

That's well said.

Beron.

I have procur'd your pardon.

Cal.

Once more I receive you Into my service: but take especial care You fall no further.

Clar.

Never Madam: Sir, When you shall find fit time to call me to it, I will make good what I have said.

Ber.

Till when, upon your life be silent.

Dor.

We will have a health unto Lisander.

Cle.

His name, Sir, Somewhat revives me; but his sight would cure me. How ever let's to supper.

Olin.

Would Clarange And Lidian were here too, as they should be, If wishes cou'd prevail.

Cal.

They are fruitless, Madam.

Ex.

Enter Leon.

Leon.

If that report speak truth, Clarinda is Discharg'd her Ladies service, and what burthen I then have drawn upon me is apparent, The crop she reapt from her attendance was Her best Revenue, and my principal means Clarinda's bounty, though I labour'd hard for't, A younger Brother's fortune: must I now Have soure sawce after sweet meats? and be driv'n To leavie half a Crown a week, besides Clouts, Sope, and Candles, for my heir Apparent, If she prove, as she swears she is with child; Such as live this way, find like me, though wenching Hath a fair face, there's a Dragon in the tail of't That stings toth' quick. I must skulk here, until I am resolv'd: how my heart pants between My hopes and fears! she's come; are we in the Port? If not, let's sink together.

Enter Clarinda.

Clar.

Things go better Than you deserve; you carry things so openly, I must bear every way, I am once more In my Ladies grace.

Leon.

And I m yours.

Clar.

It may be; but I have sworn unto my Lady never To sin again.

Leon.

To be surpriz'd —the sin Is in it self excusable; to be taken Is a crime, as the Poet writes.

Clar.

You know my weakness, And that makes you so confident. You have got A fair sword, was it not Lisanders?

Leon.

Yes Wench, And I grown valiant by the wearing of it: It hath been the death of two. With this Lisander Slew Clorindon, and Chrysanthes. I took it up, Broken in the handle, but that is reform'd, And now in my possession; the late Master Dares never come to challenge it: this sword, And all the weapons that I have, are ever Devoted to thy service: Shall we bill? I am very gamesome.

Clar.

I must first dispose of The fool Malfort; he hath smoak'd you, and is not, But by some new device to be kept from me: I have it here shall fit him: you know where You must expect me, with all possible silence Get thither.

Leon.

You will follow?

Clar.

Will I live? She that is forfeited to lust must dye, That humour being unfed; begone, here comes

Exit Le.

Enter Malfort in Armour.

My champion in Armour.

Malf.

What adventure I am bound upon I know not, but it is My Mistresses pleasure that I should appear thus. I may perhaps be terrible to others, But as I am, I am sure my shadow frights me, The clashing of my Armour in my ears, Sounds like a passing-bell; and my Buckler, puts me In mind of a Bier; this my broad Sword a pick-axe To dig my grave: O love, abominable love, What Monsters issue from thy dismal den, Clarinda's placket, which I must encounter, Or never hope to enter?

Clar.

Here's a Knight errant, Monsieur Malfort.

Malf.

Stand, stand, or I'le fall for ye.

Clar.

Know ye not my voice?

Malf.

Yes, 'twas at that I trembl'd. But were my false friend Leon here—

Clar.

'Tis he.

Malf.

Where? where?

Clar.

He is not come yet.

Malf.

'Tis well for him, I am so full of wrath.

Clar.

Or fear—This Leon, How e're my Kinsman, hath abus'd you grosly, And this night vowes to take me hence perforce, And marry me to another: 'twas for this, (Presuming on your love) I did entreat you To put your armour on, that with more safety You might defend me.

Mal.

And I'le do it bravely.

Clar.

You must stand here to beat him off, and suffer No humane thing to pass you, though it appear In my Lords shape, or Ladies: be not cozen'd With a disguise.

Mal.

I have been fool'd already, but now I am wife.

Clar.

You must swear not to stir hence.

Mal.

Upon these lips.

Clar.

Nor move untill I call you?

Mal.

I'le grow here rather.

Clar.

This nights task well ended, I am yours to morrow. Keep sure guard.

Exit Clar.

Malf.

Adieu; My honey-comb how sweet thou art, did not A nest of Hornets keep it? what impossibilities Love makes me undertake? I know my self A natural Coward, and should Leon come, Though this were Cannon proof, I should deliver The wench before he ask'd her. I hear some sooting: 'Tis he; where shall I hide my self? that is My best defence.

Enter Cleander.

Ce.

I cannot sleep, strange visions Make this poor life, I fear'd of late to lose, A toy that I grow weary of.

Malf.

'Tis Leon.

Ce.

What's that?

Malf.

If you are come, Sir, for Clarinda; I am glad I have her for you; I resign My interest; you'll find her in her Chamber, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 stay up to tell you so.

C••ean.

Clarinda, and Leon! There is something more in this Than I can stay to ask.

Exit.

Malf.

What a cold pickle (And that none of the sweetest) do I find My poor self in?

Clean.

[Speaks within.]

Yield villain.

Enter Clarinda and Leon, running. Cleander following.

Clar.

'Tis my Lord, Shift for your self.

Leon.

His life Shall first make answer

Kills Cleander.

For this intrusion.

Malf.

I am going away, I am gone already.

Falls in a swoon.

Clean.

Heaven take mercy on My soul; too true presaging Host.

Clar.

He's dead, And this wretch little better: Do you stare upon your Handy work?

Leon.

I am amaz'd.

Clar.

Get o're the Garden wall, flye for your life, But leave your sword behind; enquire not why: I'le fashion something out of it, though I perish, Sha••l make way for revenge.

Leon

These are the fruits Of lust, Clarinda.

Clar.

Hence, repenting Milk-sop.

Exit Leon.

Now 'tis too late. Lisanders sword, I that,

Puts the sword in Malfort's hand.

That is the Base I'le build on. So, I'le raise The house. Help, murther, a most horrid Murther. Monsieur Beronte, noble Dorilaus, All buried in sleep? Aye me a murther, A most unheard of murther.

Enter Dorilaus as from bed.

Dor.

More lights Knaves; B••ronte, Alcidon; more lights.

Enter Beronte, Alcidon, and Servants with lights.

Clar.

By this I see too much.

Dor.

My Son Cleander bathing In his own gore The Devil, to tell truth, i'th' shape of An Host!

Ber.

My Brother?

Malf.

I have been I'th' other world, in Hell I think, these Devils With fire-brands in their paws sent to torment me, Though I never did the deed, for my lewd purpose To be a Whore master.

Dor.

Who's that?

Alci.

'Tis one in Armour. A bloudy sword in his hand.

D••r

Sans question the murtherer.

M••lf.

Who I? you do me wrong, I never had the heart to kill a Chicken; Nor do I know this sword.

Alc.

I do, too well.

Ber.

I have seen Lisander wear it.

Clar.

This confirms W••••t yester-night I whisper'd: let it work, The circumstance may make it good.

Malf.

My Lord? and I his murtherer?

Ber.

Drag the villain hence, The Rack shall forc•• a free confession from him.

Malf.

I am struck dumb; You need not stop my mouth.

Ber.

Away with him.

Exit with Malfort.

Enter Calista, and Olinda.

Cal.

Where is my Lord?

Dor.

All that Remains of him lies there: look on this object, And then turn marble.

Cal.

I am so already, Made fit to be his Monument: but wherefore Do you, that have both life and motion lest you, Stand sad spectators of his death. And not bring forth his murtherer?

Ber.

That lies in you: you must, and shall produce him.

Dor.

She, Beronte?

Ber.

None else.

Dor.

Thou ly'st, I'le prove it on thy head, Or write it on thy heart.

Alc.

Forbear, there is Too much blood shed already.

Ber.

Let not choler Stifle your judgment; many an honest Father Hath got a wicked Daughter. If I prove not With evident proofs her han•• was in the bloud Of my dear Brother, (too good a Husband for her) Give your revenge the ••eins, and spur it forward.

Dor.

In any circumstance but shew her guilty, I'le strike the first stroak at her.

Ber.

Let me ask A question calmly: do you know this Sword? Have you not seen Lisander often wear it?

Dor.

The same with which he rescued me.

Cal.

I do, what inference from this to make me guilty?

Ber.

Was he not with you in the house to night?

Cal.

No on my soul.

Ber.

Nor ever heretofore In private with you, when you feign'd a sickness, To keep your Husband absent?

Cal.

Never, Sir, to a dishonest end.

Ber.

Was not this Woman Your instrument? her silence does confess it. Here lyes Cleander dead, and here the sword Of false Lisander, too long cover'd with A masque of seeming truth.

Dor.

And is this all The proof you can alledge? Lisander guilty, Or my poor Daughter an Adulteress? Suppose that she had chang'd discourse with one To whom she ow'd much more?

Cal.

Thou hast thy ends, wicked Clarinda.

She falls.

Oli.

Help, the Lady sinks, malice hath kill'd her.

Dor.

I would have her live, Since I dare swear she's innocent: 'tis no time Or place to argue now: this cause must be Decided by the Judge; and though a Father, I will deliver her into the hands Of Justice. If she prove true gold when try'd, She's mine: if not, with curses I'le disclaim her: Take up your part of sorrow, mine shall be Ready to answer with her life the fact That she is charg'd with.

Ber.

Sir, I look upon you as on a Father.

Dor.

With the eyes of sorrow I see you as a Brother: let your witnesses Be ready.

Ber.

'Tis my care.

Alc.

I am for Lidian. This accident no doubt will draw him from His Hermits life.

Clar.

Things yet go right, persist, Sir.

Exeunt.

Enter Lisander, and Lancelot.

L san.

Are the horses dead?

Lanc.

Out-right. If you ride at this rate, You must resolve to kill your two a day, And that's a large proportion.

Lisan.

Will you please At any price, and speedily, to get fresh ones. You know my danger, and the penalty That follows it, should I be apprehended. Your duty in obeying my commands, Will in a better language speak your service, Than your unnecessary, and untimely care of my expence.

Lanc.

I am gone, Sir.

Exit.

Lisan.

In this thicket I will expect you: Here yet I have leisure To call my self unto a strict account For my pass'd life, how vainly spent: I would I stood no farther guilty: but I have A heavier reckoning to make: This hand Of late as white as innocence, and unspotted, Now wears a purple colour, dy'd in gore, My soul of the same tincture; pur-blind passion, With flattering hop••s, would keep me from despair, Pleading I was provok'd to it; but my reason Breaking such thin and weak defences, tells me I have done a double murther; and for what? Was it in service of the King? his Edicts Command the contrary: or for my Country? Her Genius, like a mourning mother, answers In Cloridon, and Chrys••nthes she hath lost Two hopeful sons, that might have done their parts, To guard her from Invasion: for what cause then? To keep th' opinion of my valour upright, I'th' popular breath, a sandy ground to build on; Bought with the Kings displeasure, as the breach Of Heavens decrees, the loss of my true comforts, In Parents, Kinsmen, Friends, as the fruition Of all that I was born to, and that sits Like to a hill of Lead here, in my exile, (Never to be repeal'd, if I escape so) I have cut off all hopes ever to look on

Enter Lidian, like a Hermite.

Divine Calista, from her sight, and converse, For ever banish'd.

Lid.

I should know this voice, His naming too my Sister, whom Lisander Honour'd, but in a noble way, assures me That it can be no other: I stand bound To comfort any man I find distress'd: But to aid him that sav'd my life, Religion And Thankfulness commands, and it may be High providence for this good end hath brought him Into my solitary walk. Lisander, noble Lisander.

Lis.

Whatsoe'er thou a••t, That honorable attribute thou giv'st me, I can pretend no right to: come not near me, I am infectious, the sanctity Of thy profession (for thou appearest A reverend Hermite) if thou flye not from me, As from the Plague or Leprosie, cannot keep thee From being polluted.

Lid.

With good counsel, Sir, And holy prayers to boot I may cure you, Though both wayes so infected. You look wildly, Peace to your conscience, Sir, and stare upon me, As if you never saw me: hath my habit Alter'd my face so much, that yet you know not Your servant Lidian?

Lis.

I am amaz'd! So young, and so religious?

Lid.

I pu pose (Heaven make me thankful for't) to leave the world: I have made some trial of my strengths in this My solitary life; and yet I find not A faintness to go on.

Lis.

Above belief: do you inhabit here?

Lid.

Mine own free choice, Sir: I live here poorly, but contentedly, Because I find enough to feed my fortunes; Indeed too much: these wild fields are my gardens, The Crystal Rivers they afford their waters, And grudge not their sweet streams to quench afflictions; The hollow rocks their beds, which though they are hard, (The Emblems of a doting lovers fortune) Yet they are quiet; and the weary slumbers The eyes catch there, softer than beds of Down, Friend; The Birds my Bell to call me to devotions; My Book the story of my wandring life, In which I find more hours due to repentance Than time hath told me yet.

Lis.

Answer me truly.

Lid.

I will do that without a conjuration.

Lis.

I'th' depth of meditation do you not Sometimes think of Olinda?

Lid.

I endeavour To raze her from my memory, as I wish You would do the whole Sex, for know, Lisander, The greatest curse brave man can labour under, Is the strong Witch-craft of a Womans eyes; Where I find men I preach this doctrine to 'em: As you are a Scholar, knowledge make your Mistris, The hidden beauties of the Heavens your study; There shall you find fit wonder for your faith, And for your eye in-imitable objects: As you are a profess'd souldier, court your honour, Though she be stern, she is honest, a brave Mistris; The greater danger you oppose to win her, She shews the sweeter, and rewards the nobler; Womans best loves to hers meer shadows be, For after death she weds your memory. These are my contemplations.

Lis.

Heavenly ones; And in a young man more remarkable. But wherefore do I envy, and not tread in This blessed tract? here's in the heart no falshood To a vow'd friend, no quarrels seconded With Challenges, which answer'd in defence Of the word Reputation, murther follows. A man may here repent his sins, and though His hand like mine be stain'd in bloud, it may be With penitence and true contrition wash'd off; You have prov'd it, Lidian.

Lid.

And you'll find it true, if you persevere.

Lis.

Here then ends my flight, And here the fury of the King shall find me Prepar'd for Heaven, if I am mark'd to dye; For that I truly grieve for.

Enter Fryar, and Clarange in Fryars habit.

Fry.

Keep your self conceal'd, I am instructed.

Clar.

How the sight Of my dear friend confirms me.

Lis.

What are these?

Lid.

Two reverend Fryers, one I know.

Fry.

To you This journey is devoted.

Lid.

Welcome, Father.

Fry.

I know your resolution so well grounded, And your adieu unto the world so constant, That though I am th' unwilling messenger Of a strange accident to try your temper, It cannot shake you. You had once a friend, A noble friend, Clarange.

Lid.

And have still, I hope, good Father.

Fry.

Your false hopes deceive you, He's dead.

Lis.

Clarange dead?

Fry.

I buried him; Some said he dy'd of melancholy, some of love, And of that fondness perish'd.

Lid.

O Clarange!

Clar.

Hast thou so much brave nature, noble Lidian, So tenderly to love thy Rivals memory? The bold Lisander weeps too.

Fry.

I expected that you would bear this better

Lid.

I am a man, Sir, and my great loss weigh'd duly—

Fry.

His last words were After confession, live long, dear Lidian, Possess'd of all thy wishes; and of me He did desire, bathing my hand with tears, That with my best care, I should seek, and find you, And from his dying mouth prevail so with you, That you a while should leave your Hermits strictness, And on his Monument pay a tear or two, To witness how you lov'd him.

Lid.

O my heart! to witness how I lov'd him? would he had not Led me into his Grave, but sacrific'd His sorrows upon mine, he was my friend, My noble friend, I will bewail his ashes; His fortunes, and poor mine were born together, And I will weep 'em both; I will kneel by him, And on his hallow'd Earth do my last duties. I'll gather all the pride of Spring to deck him, Wood bines shall grow upon his honour'd Grave; And as they prosper, clasp to shew our friendship, And when they wither, I'll dye too.

Clar.

Who would not Desire to dye, to be bewail'd thus nobly?

Fry.

There is a Legacy he hath bequeath'd you; But of what value I must not discover, Until those Rites and pious Ceremonies Are duly tender'd.

Lid.

I am too full of sorrow to be inquisitive.

Lis.

To think of his, I do forget mine own woes.

Enter Alcidon.

Alc.

Graze thy fill, now Thou hast done thy business; ha! who have we here? Lisander, Lidian, and two Reverend Fryars? What a strange scene of sorrow is express'd In different postures, in their looks and station? A common Painter eying these to help His dull invention, might draw to the life The living Sons of Priam, as they stood On the pale Walls of Troy, when Hector fell Under Achilles's Spear; I come too late, My Horse, though good and strong, mov'd like a Tortoise; Ill News had wings, and hath got here before me. All Pythagoreans? not a word?

Lid.

O Alcidon— Deep Rivers with soft murmurs glide along. The shallow roar; Clarange!

Lis.

Cloridon, Chrysanthes, spare my grief, and apprehend What I should speak.

Alc.

Their fates I have long since For your sakes mourn'd; Clarange's death, for so Your silence doth confirm, till now I heard not; Are these the bounds that are prescrib'd unto T•••• swelling seas of sorrow?

Lis.

The bounds, Alcidon? Can all the winds of mischief, from all Quarters, Euphrates, Ganges, Tigris, Volga, Po, Paying at once their tribute to this Ocean, Make it swell higher? I am a Murtherer, Banish'd, proscrib'd, is there ought else that can Be added to it?

Lid.

I have lost a friend, Priz'd dearer than my being, and he dead, My miseries at the height contemn the worst Of Fortunes malice.

Alc.

How our humane weakness, Grown desperate from small disasters, makes us Imagine them a period to our sorrows! When the first syllable of greater woes Is not yet written.

Lid.

How?

Lis.

Speak it at large, Since grief must break my heart, I am ambitious It should be exquisite.

Alc.

It must be told, Yet ere you hear it, with all care put on The surest armour anvil'd in the Shop Of passive fortitude; the good Cleander, Your friend, is murther'd.

Lis.

'Tis a terrible pang, And yet it will not do, I live yet, act not The Torturers part; if that there be a blow Beyond this, give it, and at once dispatch me.

Alc.

Your Sword died in his heart-bloud was found near him, Your private Conference at mid-night urg'd With fair Calista; which by her whose pure truth, Would never learn to tell a lie, being granted, She by enrag'd Beronte is accus'd Of Murther and Adultery, and you (However I dare swear it false) concluded Her principal Agent,

Lid.

Wave upon wave rowls o'r me. My Sister? my dear Sister?

Clar.

Hold, great heart.

Fry.

Tear open his Doublet.

Lis.

Is this wound too narrow For my life to get out at? Bring me to A Cannon loaded, and some pitying friend Give fire unto it, while I nail my breast Unto his thundring mouth, that in the instant, I may be piece-meal torn, and blown so far, As not one joint of my dismember'd limbs May ever be by search of man found out. Cleander! Yet, why name I him? however His fall deserv'd an Earth-quake, if compar'd With what true honour in Calista suffers, Is of no moment; my good Angel keep me From Blasphemy, and strike me dumb before, In th' agony of my spirit, I do accuse The Powers above, for their unjust permission Of Vertue, innocent Vertue, to be branded With the least vicious mark.

Clar.

I never saw a man so far transported.

Alc.

Give it way, 'tis now no time to stop it.

Enter Lancelot.

Lanc.

Sir, I have bought Fresh horses; and as you respect your life, Speedily back 'em; the Archers of the Kings guard Are every where in quest of you.

Lis.

My life? Perish all such with thee that wish it longer, Let it but clear Calista's innocence,

Strikes Lancelot.

And Nestor's Age, to mine was Youth, I'll flye To meet the rage of my incensed King, And wish his favourites Ghost appear'd in Flames, To urge him to revenge; let all the tortures That Tyranny e're found out circle me, Provided Justice set Calista free.

Exeunt Lisander, Alcidon, and Lancelot.

Alc.

I'll follow him

Lid.

I am rooted here.

Fry.

Remember your dear friends last request, your sisters dangers, With the aids that you may lend her

Lid

'Pray you support me, My Legs deny their Office.

Clar.

I grow still

Farther engag'd unto his matchless vertues, And I am dead indeed, until I pay The debt I owe him in a noble way.

Exeunt.