Maria. Do, urge all torments, all afflictions try;
I’ll die my lord’s as long as I can die.
Men. Thou obstinate, thou shalt die.—Captain, that lady’s life
Is forfeited to justice: we have examin’d her,
And we do find she hath empoisonèd
The reverend hermit; therefore we command
Severest custody.—Nay, if you’ll do’s no good, 80
You’st do’s no harm: a tyrant’s peace is blood.
Maria. O, thou art merciful; O gracious devil,
Rather by much let me condemnèd be
For seeming murder than be damn’d for thee!
I’ll mourn no more; come, girt my brows with flowers:
Revel and dance, soul, now thy wish thou hast;
Die like a bride, poor heart, thou shalt die chaste.
Enter Aurelia in mourning habit.
Life[564] is a frost of cold felicity,—
Aur. And death the thaw of all our vanity:
Was’t not an honest priest that wrote so? 90
Men. Who let her in?
Bil. Forbear!
Pre. Forbear!
Aur. Alas, calamity is everywhere:
Sad misery, despite your double doors,
Will enter even in court.