Mount. Where is she?
This is the last demand.
Ab. Did I now know it,
And were I sure, this were my latest minute,
I would not tell thee: strike, and then I'll curse thee:
Roc. I see a light, stand close, and leave your angers.
We all miscarry else.
Enter Gomera, Page with Torch.
Ab. I am now careless.
Mount. Peace, prethee peace, sweet, peace, all friends.
Abd. Stand close then.
Gom. Wait there Boy, with the light, till I call to thee:
In darkness was my soul and sences clouded
When my fair Jewel fell, the night of jealousie,
In all her blackness drawn about my judgment:
No light was let into me, to distinguish
Betwixt my suddain anger and her honor,
A blind sad Pilgrimage shall be my pennance,
No comfort of the day will I look up at:
Far darker than my jealous Ignorance
Each place of my aboad shall be my prayers
No ceremonious lights shall set off more:
Bright Armes, and all that carry lustre, life,
Society, and solace, I forsake ye.
And were it not once more to see her beauties,
(For in her bed of death, she must be sweet still,)
And on her cold sad lips seal my repentance;
Thou child of heaven, fair light I could not miss thee.
Mount. I know the tongue, would I were out again,
I have done him too much wrong to look upon him.
Ab. There is no shifting now, boldness, and confidence
Must carry it now away: he is but one neither,
Naked as you are, of a strength far under.