[Ant.] Your legs have sav'd your lives, who ere you are,
Friend. Martin? where art thou? not hurt I hope:
Sure I was farthest in the pursuit of 'em:
My pleasures are forgotten through my fears:
The lights extinct, it was discreetly done:
They could not but have notice of the broil,
And fearing that might call up company,
Have carefully prevented, and closed up:
I do commend the heed; oh, but my friend,
I fear his hurt: friend? friend? it cannot be
So mortal, that I should lose thee quite, friend?
A groan, any thing that may discover thee:
Thou art not sunk so far, but I might hear thee:
I'll lay mine ear as low as thou canst fall:
Friend, Don Martin, I must answer for thee,
'Twas in my cause thou fe[ll]'st, if thou be'st down,
Such dangers stand betwixt us and our joyes,
That should we forethink ere we undertake,
Wee'ld sit at home, and save. What a night's here!
Purpos'd for so much joy, and now dispos'd
To so much wretchedness! I shall not rest in't:
If I had all my pleasures there within,
I should not entertain 'em with a smile.
Good night to you: Mine will be black and sad,
A friend cannot, a woman may be bad. [Exit.
Actus Quintus. Scæna Prima.
Enter Ismenia and Aminta.
Ism. O thou false.
Am. Do your daringst, he's mine own,
Soul and body mine, church and chamber mine,
Totally mine.
Ism. Dar'st thou face thy falshood?
Am. Shall I not give a welcome to my wishes
Come home so sweetly: farewell your company
Till you be calmer woman. [Exit.
Ism. Oh what a heap
Of misery has one night brought with it.
Enter Antonio.