The Tragedy of
Ferd.
Oh most imperfect light of humaine reason,
That mak'st so unhappy, to fore see
What we can least prevent: Pursue thy wishes:
And glory in them: there's in shame no comfort,
But to be past all bounds, and sence of shame.
Duch.
I pray sir, heare me: I am married,
Ferd.
So:
Duch.
Happily, not to your liking: but for that
Alas: your sheeres doe come untimely now
To clip the birds wings, that's already flowne:
Will you see my Husband?
Ferd.
Yes, if I
Could change eyes with a Basilisque:
Duch.
Sure, you came hither
By his confideracy.
Ferd.
The howling of a Wolfe
Is musicke to the (schrech-Owle) pre'thee peace:
What ere thou art, that hast enjoy'd my sister,
(For I am sure thou hearst me) for thine owne sake
Let me not know thee: I came hither, prepar'd
To worke thy discovery: yet am now perswaded
It would beget such violent effects
As would dampe vs both: I would not for ten Millions
I had beheld thee: therefore use all meanes
I never may have knowledge of thy name;
Enjoy thy lust still, and a wretched life,
On that condition: And for thee (vilde woman,)
If thou doe wish thy Leacher may grow old
In thy Embracements, I would have thee build
Such a roome for him, as our Anchorites
To holier use enhabite: Let not the Sunne
Shine on him, till he's dead: Let Dogs, and Monkeys
Onely converse with him, and such dombe things
To whom Nature denies use, to sound his name.
Doe not keepe a Paraqueto, least she learne it;
If thou doe love him, cut out thine owne tongue
Least it bewray him.
Duch.
