Part 27 (1/2)

_Din._ Rather than enjoy you With your consent, because I will torment you; I'le make you feel the effects of abus'd love, And glory in your torture.

_Lam._ Brother, Nephew, Help, help, for Heavens sake.

_Din._ Tear your throat, cry louder, Though every leaf, these trees bear, were an Echo, And summon'd in your best friends to redeem you, It should be fruitless: 'tis not that I love you, Or value those delights you prize so high, That I'le enjoy you, a French crown will buy More sport, and a companion, to whom, You in your best trim are an Ethiop.

_Lam._ Forbear me then.

_Din._ Not so, I'le do't in spite, And break that stubborn disobedient will, That hath so long held out, that boasted honour I will make equal with a common Wh.o.r.es; The spring of Chast.i.ty, that fed your pride, And grew into a River of vain glory, I will defile with mudd, the mudd of l.u.s.t, And make it loathsome even to goats.

_Lam._ O Heaven!

No pity Sir?

_Din._ You taught me to be cruel, And dare you think of mercy? I'le tell thee fool, Those that surpriz'd thee, were my instruments, I can plot too good Madam, you shall find it: And in the stead of licking of my fingers, Kneeling and whining like a boy new breech'd, To get a toy forsooth, not worth an apple, Thus make my way, and with Authority Command what I would have.

_Lam._ I am lost for ever: Good Sir, I do confess my fault, my gross fault, And yield my self up, miserable guilty; Thus kneeling I confess, you cannot study Sufficient punishments to load me with; I am in your power, and I confess again, You cannot be too cruel: if there be, Besides the loss of my long guarded honour, Any thing else to make the ballance even, Pray put it in, all hopes, all helpes have left me; I am girt round with sorrow, h.e.l.l's about me, And ravishment the least that I can look for, Do what you please.

_Din._ Indeed I will do nothing, Nor touch nor hurt you Lady, nor had ever Such a lewd purpose.

_Lam._ Can there be such goodness, And in a man so injur'd?

_Din._ Be confirm'd in't.

I seal it thus: I must confess you vex'd me, In fooling me so often, and those fears You threw upon me call'd for a requital, Which now I have return'd, all unchast love _Dinant_ thus throws away; live to man-kind, As you have done to me, and I will honour Your vertue, and no more think of your beauty.

_Lam._ All I possess, comes short of satisfaction.

_Din._ No complements: the terrours of this night Imagine but a fearfull dream, and so With ease forget it: for _Dinant_, that labour'd To blast your honour, is a Champion for it, And will protect and guard it.

_Lam._ 'Tis as safe then, As if a compleat Army undertook it. [_Exeunt._

_Enter_ La-writ, Sampson, _Clyents._

_La-writ._ Do not perswade me gentle Monsieur _Sampson_, I am a mortal man again, a Lawyer, My martiall part I have put off.

_Sam._ Sweet Monsieur, Let but our honours teach us.

_La-writ._ Monsieur _Sampson_, My honourable friend, my valiant friend, Be but so beaten, forward my brave Clients, I am yours, and you are mine again, be but so thrasht, Receive that Castigation with a cudgel.

_Sam._ Which calls upon us for a Reparation.

_La-writ._ I have, it cost me half a crown, I bear it All over me, I bear it Monsieur _Sampson_; The oyls, and the old woman that repairs to me, To 'noint my beaten body.

_Sam._ It concerns you, You have been swing'd.

_La-writ._ Let it concern thee too; Goe and be beaten, speak scurvy words, as I did, Speak to that Lion Lord, waken his anger, And have a hundred Bastinado's, doe; Three broken pates, thy teeth knockt out, do _Sampson_, Thy valiant arms and leggs beaten to Poultesses, Do silly _Sampson_, do.

_1 Cly._ You wrong the Gentleman, To put him out of his right mind thus: You wrong us, and our Causes.

_La-writ._ Down with him Gentlemen, Turn him, and beat him, if he break our peace, Then when thou hast been Lam'd, thy small guts perisht, Then talk to me, before I scorn thy counsel, Feel what I feel, and let my Lord repair thee.