Lavin.
Nay, you have catcht me; you may kill me too:
But with my Cries I'll rend the Echoing Heav'ns,
Till all the Gods are Witness how you use me.

Metell.
What? like a Vagrant fly thy Father's House?
And follow fulsomely an exil'd Slave,
Disdain'd by all the World? But abject Thou,
Resolve to go, or bound be sent to Sylla,
With as much Scorn as thou hast done me Shame.

Lavin.
Do, bind me, kill me, rack these Lims: I'll bear it.
But, Sir, consider still I am your Daughter;
And one hour's Converse with this Holy man
May teach me to repent, and shew Obedience.

Metell.
Think not t' evade me by protracting time:
For if thou dost not, may the Gods forsake me,
As I will Thee, if thou escape my Fury.... [Ex. Metell.

Lavin.
Oh! bid me leap (rather then go to Sylla)
From off the Battlements of any Tow'r,
Or walk in Thievish ways, or bid me lurk
Where Serpents are: chain me with roaring Bears;
Or hide me nightly in a Charnell-house
O're-cover'd quite with Dead mens rattling Bones,
With reeky Shanks, and yellow chapless Sculls:
Or bid me go into a new-made Grave,
And hide me with a Dead man in his Shrowd:
Things that to hear but told have made me tremble:
And I'll go through it without fear or doubting,
To keep my Vows unspotted to my Love.—

Priest.
Take here this Vial then, and in this moment
Drink it, when straight through all thy Veins shall run
A cold and drowzy Humour more then Sleep:
And in Death's borrow'd likeness shalt thou lie
Two Summer-days, then wake as from a Slumber.
Till Marius by my Letters know what's past,
And come by stealth to Rome.—

Lavin.
Give me; Oh! give me: tell me not of Fears.

Priest.
Farewell: be bold and prosp'rous. [Exit.

Lavin.
Oh! farewell.....
Heav'n knows if ever we shall meet agen.
I have a faint cold Fear thrills through my Veins.

That almost freezes up the heat of Life.
I'll call him back agen to comfort me.
Stay, Holy man. But what should he doe here?
My dismall Scene 'tis fit I act alone.
What if this Mixture do not work at all?
Shall I to morrow then be sent to Sylla?
No, no .... this shall forbid it; ly thou there..... Lays down the Dagger.
Or how, if, when I'm laid into the Tomb,
I wake before the time that Marius come
To my Relief? There, there's a fearfull Point.
Shall I not then be stifled in the Vault,
Where for these many hundred years the Bones
Of all my bury'd Ancestours are packt?
Where, as they say, Ghosts at some hours resort,
With Mandrakes shreeks torn from the Earth's dark Womb,
That living Mortals hearing them run mad?
Or if I wake, shall I not be distracted,
Inviron'd round with all these hideous Fears,
And madly play with my Fore-fathers Joints;
Then in this Rage with some great Kinsman's Bones,
As with a Club, dash out my desp'rate Brains?
What? Sylla? get thee gone, thou meager Lover:
My Sense abhors thee. Don't disturb my Draught;
'Tis to my Lord. [Drinks.] Oh Marius! Marius! Marius! [Exit. The end of the Fourth ACT.

Previous section