Finis Actus Secundi.

LINENOTES: 1-49 _He will . . . bloud_. These lines and the direction,
_Montsur . . . Pyrha_, are found in A only. 50 B, which begins the scene with this line, inserts before it: _Enter Monsieur, Tamyra, and Pero with a booke._ 71 _joyning a lose_. A, weighing a dissolute. 76 _common_. A, solemne. 135 _honour_. A, profit. 146 _In . . . another_. A omits. 147 _wane_. Emend., Dilke; Qq, wave. 158 _yee_. A, the. 172 _which_. A, that. 173 _For life's . . . me_. A, For love is hatefull without love againe. _The Vault opens_. B places this after 173; A omits. 177-181 _See . . . in_. Instead of these lines, A has:-- See, see the gulfe is opening that will swallow Me and my fame forever; I will in. _with a book_. A omits. 266 _wakes_. A, sits. 274 _Made some deepe scruple_. A, Was something troubled. 275 _honour_. A, hand. 278-280 _his long love . . . perfections_. A omits. 280 _ready_. A omits. 286 _good_. A, comfort. ACTUS TERTII SCENA PRIMA. [A Room in Montsurry's House.] _Enter D'Ambois, Tamyra, with a chaine of pearle._ _Bussy._ Sweet mistresse, cease! your conscience is too nice, And bites too hotly of the Puritane spice. _Tamyra._ O, my deare servant, in thy close embraces I have set open all the dores of danger To my encompast honour, and my life: Before I was secure against death and hell; But now am subject to the heartlesse feare Of every shadow, and of every breath, And would change firmnesse with an aspen leafe: So confident a spotlesse conscience is, So weake a guilty. O, the dangerous siege Sinne layes about us, and the tyrannie He exercises when he hath expugn'd! Like to the horror of a winter's thunder, Mixt with a gushing storme, that suffer nothing To stirre abroad on earth but their own rages, Is sinne, when it hath gathered head above us; No roofe, no shelter can secure us so, But he will drowne our cheeks in feare or woe._Buss._ Sin is a coward, madam, and insults
But on our weakness, in his truest valour:
And so our ignorance tames us, that we let
His shadows fright us: and like empty clouds
In which our faulty apprehensions forge
The forms of dragons, lions, elephants,
When they hold no proportion, the sly charms
Of the witch policy makes him like a monster
Kept only to show men for servile money:
That false hag often paints him in her cloth
Ten times more monstrous than he is in troth.
In three of us the secret of our meeting
Is only guarded, and three friends as one

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