Vertuous _Alberto_ and _Rinaldo_,
Had I given eare to them and to my sonne,
My joyes had flourished, that now are done.
_Valen_. Yet for my sake allay this discontent.
_Duke_. Tis for thy sake, thou vilde notorious woman,
That I have past the limits of a man,
The bonds of nature.
'Twas thy bewitching eye, thy Syrens voice,
That throwes me upon millions of disgrace,
Ile have thee tortur'd on the Racke,
Plucke out those basiliske enchaunting eyes,
Teare thee to death with Pincers burning hot,
Except thou giue me the departed lives
Of my deare childeren.
_Valen_. What, am I a Goddesse
That I should fetch their flying soules from heaven
And breath them once more in their clay cold bodies?
_Duke_. Thou art a witch, a damn'd sorceresse,
No goddesse, but the goddesse of blacke hell,
And all those devils thy followers.
What makes thou, on the earth, to murder men?
Will not my sonnes and daughters timelesse[216] lives,
Taken away in prime of their fresh youth,
Serve to suffice thee?
_Valen_. O, you are mad, my Lord.
_Duke_. How can I choose,
And such a foule _Erynnis_ gase on me,
Such furious legions circle me about,
And my slaine Sonne and Daughters fire brands
Lying so neere me, to torment my soule?
Extremitie of all extremities:
Take pitty on the wandering sense of mine
Or it will breake the prison of my soule
And like to wild fire fly about the world,
Till they have no abiding in the world.
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