Nature unto her selfe is too unkind
To buzze such scruples into _Fredericks_ minde;
Twas a device of man to avoid selfe love,
Else every pleasure in one stocke should move,
Beautie in grace part never from the kinne.
_Fred_. If thou persever as thou hast begun,
I shall forget I am my fathers sonne,
I shall forget thou art my fathers wife,
And where 'tis I must die abridge thy life.
_Valen_. Why did'st not kill me, being thy prisoner then,
But friendly didst deliver me again[212]
Unto thy father, wert not thou didst love me?
_Fred_. Beyond all sufferance, monster, thou dost move me.
'Twas for my fathers sake, not for thine owne;
That, to thy lifes losse, thou hadst throughly knowne
But that relenting nature playde her part,
To save thy blood whose losse had slaine his heart:
And it repents me not hee doth survive,
But that his fortune was so ill to wive.
Come, kill, for for that you came; shun delayes
Lest living Ile tell this to thy dispraise,
Make him to hate thee, as he hath just cause,
And like a strumpet turne thee to the lawes.
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