SCENE II.

_Near_ Sir HUBERT SUBBOYS' _house_.

_Enter_ FREEVILL, _speaking to some within_; MALHEUREUX _at the other door_.

_Free._ As you respect my virtue, give me leave To satisfy my reason, though not blood.-- So all runs right; our feignèd rage hath ta'en To fullest life: they are much possess'd Of force most, most all quarrel. Now, my right friend, Resolve me with open breast, free and true heart; Cannot thy virtue, having space to think And fortify her weakened powers with reason, Discourses, meditations, discipline, Divine ejaculatories, and all those aids against devils,-- Cannot all these curb thy low appetite 11 And sensual fury?

_Mal._ There is no God in blood, no reason in desire. Shall I but live? Shall I not be forced to act Some deed whose very name is hideous?

_Free._ No.

_Mal._ Then I must enjoy Franceschina.

_Free._ You shall. I'll lend this ring: show it to that fair devil: It will resolve me dead; Which rumour, with my artificial absence, Will make most firm: enjoy her suddenly. 20

_Mal._ But if report go strong that you are slain, And that by me,--whereon I may be seized,-- Where shall I find your being?

_Free._ At Master Shatewe's the jeweller's, to whose breast I'll trust our secret purpose.

_Mal._ Ay, rest yourself; Each man hath follies.

_Free._ But those worst of all, Who, with a willing eye, do seeing fall.

_Mal._ 'Tis true, but truth seems folly in madness' spectacles. I am not now myself, no man: farewell.

_Free._ Farewell. 30

_Mal._ When woman's in the heart, in the soul hell.

[_Exit_ MALHEUREUX.

_Free._ Now, repentance, the fool's whip, seize thee; Nay, if there be no means I'll be thy friend, But not thy vices'; and with greatest sense I'll force thee feel thy errors to the worst; The wildest of dangers thou shalt sink into. No jeweller shall see me; I will lurk Where none shall know or think; close I'll withdraw, And leave thee with two friends--a whore and knave; But is this virtue in me? No, not pure, 40 Nothing extremely best with us endures; No use in simple purities; the elements Are mix'd for use; silver without allay[83] Is all too eager[84] to be wrought for use: Nor precise virtues, ever purely good, Holds useful size with temper of weak blood. Then let my course be borne, though with side-wind; The end being good, the means are well assign'd.

[_Exit._

[83] Old form of _alloy_.

[84] Brittle (Fr. _aigre_).--"_Aigre_, eagre, sharpe, tart, biting, sower also _brittle, or easily broken with a hammer_."--_Cotgrave._