112 _steales on to ravish_. A, is comming to afflict.
_Enter . . . Pero_, placed in A after _under_ in 134.
151-154 _Sweet . . . enough_. A has instead:--
Sweete lord, cleare up those eies, for shame of noblesse: Mercilesse creature; but it is enough.
B has three lines broken at _forehead_, _warres_, _enough_.
181 _comes . . . him_. Punctuated by ed.; Qq, comes my stain from him?
193 _Even . . . curst seed_. A, Even to his teeth, whence, in mine honors soile.
205-209 _papers hold . . . for it_. Omitted in A, which has instead:--
Be not nice For any trifle, jeweld with your honour, To pawne your honor.
232 _But I will to him_. A, Ile attend your lordship.
_Bussy._ I am suspitious, my most honour'd father, By some of Monsieurs cunning passages, That his still ranging and contentious nose-thrils To scent the haunts of mischiefe have so us'd The vicious vertue of his busie sence 5 That he trails hotly of him, and will rowze him, Driving him all enrag'd and foming on us; And therefore have entreated your deepe skill In the command of good aeriall spirits, To assume these magick rites, and call up one, 10 To know if any have reveal'd unto him Any thing touching my deare love and me.
_Friar._ Good sonne, you have amaz'd me but to make The least doubt of it, it concernes so neerely The faith and reverence of my name and order. 15 Yet will I justifie upon my soule All I have done; If any spirit i'th[e] earth or aire Can give you the resolve, doe not despaire.
_Musick: and Tamira enters with Pero, her maid, bearing a letter._
_Tamyra._ Away, deliver it. _Exit Pero._ O may my lines, 20 Fill'd with the poyson of a womans hate, When he shall open them, shrink up his curst eyes With torturous darknesse, such as stands in hell, Stuck full of inward horrors, never lighted; With which are all things to be fear'd, affrighted. 25
_Buss._ How is it with my honour'd mistresse?
_Tam._ O, servant, help, and save me from the gripes Of shame and infamy. Our love is knowne; Your Monsieur hath a paper where is writ Some secret tokens that decipher it. 30
_Buss._ What cold dull Northern brain, what foole but he, Durst take into his Epimethean breast A box of such plagues as the danger yeelds Incur'd in this discovery? He had better Ventur'd his breast in the consuming reach 35 Of the hot surfets cast out of the clouds, Or stood the bullets that (to wreak the skie) The Cyclops ramme in Joves artillerie.