Fred. You have your wish,
To morrow I will see you nobly married,
Your Month take out in all content and pleasure;
The first day of the following Month you dye for't;
Kneel not, not all your Prayers can divert me;
Now mark your sentence, mark it, scornful Lady,
If when Valerio's dead, within twelve hours,
For that's your latest time, you find not out
Another Husband on the same condition
To marry you again, you dye your self too.
Evan. Now you are merciful, I thank your Grace.
Fred. If when you are married, you but seek to 'scape
Out of the Kingdom, you, or she, or both,
Or to infect mens minds with hot commotions,
You dye both instantly; will you love me now, Lady?
My tale will now be heard, but now I scorn ye. [Exit.
[Manent Valerio, and Evanthe.
Evan. Is our fair love, our honest, our entire,
Come to this hazard?
Val. 'Tis a noble one, and I am much in love with malice for it,
Envy could not have studied me a way,
Nor fortune pointed out a path to Honour,
Straighter and nobler, if she had her eyes;
When I have once enjoy'd my sweet Evanthe,
And blest my Youth with her most dear embraces,
I have done my journey here, my day is out,
All that the World has else is foolery,
Labour, and loss of time; what should I live for?
Think but mans life a Month, and we are happy.
I would not have my joys grow old for any thing;
A Paradise, as thou art, my Evanthe,
Is only made to wonder at a little,
Enough for human eyes, and then to wander from.
Come, do not weep, sweet, you dishonour me,
Your tears and griefs but question my ability,
Whether I dare dye; Do you love intirely?
Evan. You know I do.
Val. Then grudge not my felicity.
Evan. I'll to the Queen.
Val. Do any thing that's honest,
But if you sue to him, in Death I hate you. [Exeunt.