LADY. Then is your care so cold? will you be robb'd, And have such warning of the thieves? Come on, sir! Fall to your business, lay your hands about you: Do not think scorn to work; a resolute captain Will rather fling the treasure of his bark Into whales' throats, than pirates should be gorg'd with't. Be not less man than he; thou art master yet, And all's at thy disposing; take thy time, Prevent mine enemy, away with me, Let me no more be seen. I'm like that treasure, Dangerous to him that keeps it--rid thy hands on't!
LADY. Shall I be taken, And lost the cruellest way? then wouldst thou curse That love that sent forth pity to my life! Too late thou wouldst!
GOV. O this extremity! Hast thou no way to 'scape them, but in soul? Must I meet peace in thy destruction, Or will it ne'er come at me? 'Tis a most miserable way to get it! I had rather be content to live without it, Than pay so dear for't, and yet lose it too.
LADY. Sir, you do nothing: there's no valour in you! You're the worst friend to a lady in affliction, That ever love made his companion: For honour's sake, despatch me! thy own thoughts Should stir thee to this act more than my weakness. The sufferer should not do't: I speak thy part, Dull and forgetful man, and all to help thee! Is it thy mind to have me seized upon, And borne with violence to the tyrant's bed? There forc'd unto the lust of all his days.
GOV. O no, thou liv'st no longer, now I think on't: I take thee at all hazard.
GOV. Lady, what had you made me done now? You never cease, till you prepare me cruel 'Gainst my heart, And then you turn't upon my hand, And mock me.
LADY. Cowardly flesh! Thou show'st thy faintness still: I felt thee shake, E'en when the storm came near thee; thou'rt the same: But 'twas not for thy fear I put death by; I had forgot a chief and worthy business, Whose strange neglect--would have made me forgotten. I will be ready straight, sir. [_She kneels in prayer._
GOV. O poor lady! Why might not she expire now in that prayer, Since she must die, and never try worse ways; 'Tis not so happy, for we often see Condemn'd men sick to death, yet 'tis their fortune To recover to their execution, And rise again in health to set in shame. What, if I steal a death unseen of her now, And close up all my miseries, with mine eyes! O, fie, And leave her here alone! that were unmanly.