Orb. Forgive it, as my passion's fault, not mine.
Cort. In your excuse your love does little say; You might, howe'er, have took a fairer way.
Orb. 'Tis true, my passion small defence can make; Yet you must spare me for your honour's sake, That was engaged to set me safe and free.
Cort. 'Twas to a stranger, not an enemy:
Nor is it prudence to prolong thy breath,
When all my hopes depend upon thy death;
Yet none shall tax me with base perjury:
Something I'll do, both for myself and thee;
With vowed revenge my soldiers search each tent,
If thou art seen, none can thy death prevent;
Follow my steps with silence and with haste.
SCENE III.
They go out, the Scene changes to the Indian Country, they return.
Cort. Now you are safe, you have my outguards past.
Orb. Then here I take my leave.
Cort. Orbellan, no; When you return, you to Cydaria go: I'll send a message.
Orb. Let it be exprest; I am in haste.