Scene II THE SWISS ER

And I forgett my Su ff rings : Theise you may Doe sooner then repaire my Iniuries By any satisfaction.

King. Thou wert euer Louing to mee, and though this base distemper 120

Which lately rul'd my Blood may iustly blemish, And lay a Brand vpon a noble Nature, Yett rie be kind to thee, and thou shalt find it; For I will meet thy wishes.

Ariol. Had this onely Concern'd my selfe, were there no other motiue, 125

No Duty should haue bene more firme, no Loue More full of Zeale; you could not think to doe That ill, I should but onely pray against, Not rashly censure; now I, giant like, Must warr 'gainst Heauen —

King. Well, then, you haue 130

Re fus' d one of my offers : heare the other. The marriage of my Sister is not valued —

Ariol. As any Satisfaction, I had rather Grapple with Death.

King. The other is — I'le fight wi' yee. 134

Ariol. How !

King. Fight wi' yee. Therfore draw! You know I may Lay treason to your charge, for I do find yee Loaden with bad intents, and so make Justice Quitt mee of all this feare; but I doe loath it, W^here I doe loue, and faine wo'd gaine a freind.

;8 THE SWISSER Act IV

Thou shalt not fight in danger neither; heere, 140

Heere is thy Pardon if thou kil'st mee; take it!

[Holds out a paper.'] And now choose which you will, my Sister or mee. Quickly, résolue ! What ! Mute ! Heere I am ready.

Arzol. Some Planet strike mee! Shall I lift my hand Against such Noblenes? I am to seeke now. 145

Oh Arioldus, thou art plung'd into A gulfe of Doubts where ther's no ground of Rest! This Goodnes ouercomes mee; I am conquer'd : Wo'd I had neuer liu'd to see this day !

Where shall I hide my selfe? Shroud mee some darknes ! 150 The light of all my Reason is extinguisht; I must kill him that wo'd preserue my life, Or liue, to see a Virgin that I loue Ignobly iniur'd.

King. Are you in a study ?

Faith, take my Sister yett.

Ariol. This World I waigh not, 155

Nor all the Pleasures in it; th'are like Bubles : Soone heere, soone gon ! You take mee most —

King. Come on then !

Ariol. Your goodnes, Royall Sir, I wo'd be thankefull, For this great Benefitt, but cannot, if

I murder him that is the Author of it. 160

Heere, take my Sword, and life, I humbly begg it; Ridd mee of all my Sorrowes, for I am