Nay if you ginne to brawle, withdrawe your selfe,
But utter not the motion[10] that I made,
As you love me, or do regarde your life.
_Allen_. And as you love my safetie and your soule,
Let grace and feare of God, such thoughts controule.
_Fall_. Still pratling! let your grace and feare alone,
And leave me quickly to my private thoughts,
Or with my sword ile open wide a gate,
For wrath and bloudie death to enter in.
_Allen_. Better you gave me death and buriall,
Then such foule deeds should overthrow us all.
_Fall_. Still are you wagging that rebellious tounge!
Ile dig it out for Crowes to feede upon,
If thou continue longer in my sight. [_Exit Allenso_.
He loves him better then he loves his life!
Heres repetition of my brothers care,
Of sisters chardge, of grace, and feare of God.
Feare dastards, cowards, faint hart runawayes!
Ile feare no coulours[11] to obteine my will,
Though all the fiends in hell were opposite.
Ide rather loose mine eye, my hand, my foote,
Be blinde, wante senses, and be ever lame,
Then be tormented with such discontent
This resignation would afflict me with.
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