The saints sacrifice

Enter Thisbe sola.

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, Clitmnestra, 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.