t
In thine owne constancie, and in thy right
Must be unrighteous. If I right my friend,
I wrong my husband; if his wrong I shunne, 170
The duty of my friend I leave undone.
Ill playes on both sides; here and there it riseth;
No place, no good, so good, but ill compriseth.
O had I never married but for forme;
Never vow'd faith but purpos'd to deceive; 175
Never made conscience of any sinne,
But clok't it privately and made it common;
Nor never honour'd beene in bloud or mind;
Happy had I beene then, as others are
Of the like licence; I had then beene honour'd, 180
Liv'd without envie; custome had benumb'd
All sense of scruple and all note of frailty;
My fame had beene untouch'd, my heart unbroken:
But (shunning all) I strike on all offence.
O husband! deare friend! O my conscience! 185

_Mons._ Come, let's away; my sences are not proofe
Against those plaints.

_Exeunt Guise, Mon[sieur above]. D'Ambois is borne off._

_Mont._ I must not yeeld to pity, nor to love
So servile and so trayterous: cease, my bloud,
To wrastle with my honour, fame, and judgement. 190
Away! forsake my house; forbeare complaints
Where thou hast bred them: here all things [are] full
Of their owne shame and sorrow--leave my house.

_Tam._ Sweet lord, forgive me, and I will be gone;
And till these wounds (that never balme shall close 195
Till death hath enterd at them, so I love them,
Being opened by your hands) by death be cur'd,
I never more will grieve you with my sight;
Never endure that any roofe shall part
Mine eyes and heaven; but to the open deserts 200
(Like to a hunted tygres) I will flie,
Eating my heart, shunning the steps of men,
And look on no side till I be arriv'd.

_Mont._ I doe forgive thee, and upon my knees
(With hands held up to heaven) wish that mine honour 205
Would suffer reconcilement to my love:
But, since it will not, honour never serve
My love with flourishing object, till it sterve!
And as this taper, though it upwards look,
Downwards must needs consume, so let our love! 210
As, having lost his hony, the sweet taste
Runnes into savour, and will needs retaine
A spice of his first parents, till (like life)
It sees and dies, so l