Lev. O God! my husband! my Sebastian! Husband!
Neither can speak, yet both report my shame.
Is this the saving of my honour when
Their blood runs out in rivers, and my lust
The fountain whence it flows? Dear husband, let
Not thy departed spirit be displeased
If with adulterate lips I kiss thy cheek.
Here I behold the hatefulness of lust,
Which brings me kneeling to embrace him dead
Whose body living I did loathe to touch.
Now I can weep. But what can tears do good
When I weep only water, they weep blood.
But could I make an ocean with my tears
That on the flood this broken vessel of
My body, laden heavy with light lust,
Might suffer shipwreck and so drown my shame.
Then weeping were to purpose, but alas!
The sea wants water enough to wash away
The foulness of my name. O! in their wounds
I feel my honour wounded to the death.
Shall I out-live my honour? Must my life
Be made the world's example? Since it must,
Then thus in detestation of my deed,
To make the example move more forceably
To virtue, thus I seal it with a death
As full of horror as my life of sin. [Stabs herself.
Enter the Watch with Cataplasma, Fresco, Languebeau Snuffe, and Soquette.
Watch. Hold, madam! Lord, what a strange night is this!
Lang. May not Snuffe be suffered to go out of himself?
Watch. Nor you, nor any. All must go with us.
O with what virtue lust should be withstood!
Since 'tis a fire quenched seldom without blood.
[Exeunt.