This.
What sly evasion to put off thy guilt
Is left thee now poor Thisbe? what device
To shun the severe justice of the Law?
All will be now discovered, and my plots
Return upon my self, the heavens are just
In sending Cnemon home from banishment
⟨image 30⟩To punish me in cheering of himself,
Canst thou behold his face, or speak one word
In thy defence, when he stands forth t'accuse thee
Before the people? O what shame, what curses
Breathed from a general mouth will weigh thee down
Even to Avernus gulf; I feel the weight
Of my offences poised in the scale
Of sad despair; O thou incendiary
Of all this mischief, saith my guilty thoughts,
Thou murderess of thy mistress, hie thee hence
To the infernal shades, where never light
Appears, but gloomy darkness covers all
Under her sable mantle, there find out
Medea, Clit•mnestra, Pasiphe,
Long since condemned for murder to this place,
Companions of thy shame; why lingerest thou
Upon the earth? is not thy sin complete.
And ripe for hell? yes, yes, I know it is,
I know it is, my sad despairing thoughts,
Isle follow your suggestions, gentle viol
Reserved for such a use, this kiss from thee
Shall cross the sentence of the Laws decree. She drinks poison.
This.
What sly evasion to put off thy guilt
Is left thee now poore Thisbe? what device
To shun the severe justice of the Law?
All will be now discover'd, and my plots
Returne upon my selfe, the heavens are just
In sending Cnemon home from banishment
⟨image 30⟩To punish me in cheering of himselfe,
Canst thou behold his face, or speake one word
In thy defence, when he stands forth t'accuse thee
Before the people? O what shame, what curses
Breath'd from a generall mouth will weigh thee downe
Even to Avernus gulph; I feele the weight
Of my offences poised in the scale
Of sad despaire; O thou incendiary
Of all this mischiefe, saith my guilty thoughts,
Thou murtheresse of thy mistris, hie thee hence
To the infernall shades, where never light
Appeares, but gloomy darknesse covers all
Under her sable mantle, there finde out
Medea, Clit•mnestra, Pasiphe,
Long since condemn'd for murther to this place,
Companions of thy shame; why lingrest thou
Upon the earth? is not thy sinne compleat.
And ripe for hell? yes, yes, I know it is,
I know it is, my sad despairing thoughts,
Ile follow your suggestions, gentle violl
Reserv'd for such a use, this kisse from thee
Shall crosse the sentence of the Lawes decree. She drinks poyson.
