Colum. Hernando, now I love thee, and do half Repent the affront my passion threw upon thee. Her. You will not be too prodigal o’ your penitence. Colum. This makes good thy nobility of birth;4 Thou may’st be worth my anger and my sword, If thou dost execute as daringly As thou provok’st a quarrel. I did think Thy soul a starveling, or asleep. Her. You ’ll find it Active enough to keep your spirit waking; Which, to exasperate, for yet I think10 It is not high enough to meet my rage— Do you smile? Colum. This noise is worth it.—Gentlemen, I ’m sorry this great soldier has engag’d Your travail; all his business is to talk. Her. A little of your lordship’s patience,15 You shall have other sport, and swords that will Be as nimble ’bout your heart as you can wish. ’T is pity more than our two single lives Should be at stake. Colum. Make that no scruple, sir. Her. To him then that survives, if fate allow20 That difference, I speak, that he may tell The world, I came not hither on slight anger, But to revenge my honour, stain’d and trampled on By this proud man; when general, he commanded My absence from the field. Colum. I do remember,25 And I ’ll give your soul now a discharge. Her. I come To meet it, if your courage be so fortunate. But there is more than my own injury You must account for, sir, if my sword prosper;29 Whose point and every edge is made more keen With young Alvarez’ blood, in which I had A noble interest. Does not that sin benumb Thy arteries, and turn the guilty flowings To trembling jelly in thy veins? Canst hear Me name that murder, and thy spirits not35 Struck into air, as thou wert shot by some Engine from Heaven? Colum. You are the duchess’ champion! Thou hast given me a quarrel now. I grieve It is determin’d all must fight, and I Shall lose much honour in his fall. Her. That duchess,40 (Whom but to mention with thy breath is sacrilege, An orphan of thy making, and condemn’d By thee to eternal solitude, I come To vindicate; and while I am killing thee, By virtue of her prayers sent up for justice,45 At the same time, in Heaven I am pardon’d for ’t. Colum. I cannot hear the bravo. Her. Two words more, And take your chance. Before you all I must Pronounce that noble lady without knowledge Or thought of what I undertake for her.50 Poor soul! she ’s now at her devotions, Busy with Heaven, and wearing out the earth With her stiff knees, and bribing her good angel With treasures of her eyes, to tell her lord How much she longs to see him. My attempt55 Needs no commission from her: were I A stranger in Navarre, the inborn right Of every gentleman to Alvarez’ loss Is reason to engage their swords and lives Against the common enemy of virtue.60 Colum. Now have you finish’d? I have an instrument Shall cure this noise, and fly up to thy tongue, To murder all thy words. Her. One little knot Of phlegm, that clogs my stomach, and I ha’ done:— You have an uncle, call’d a Cardinal,65 Would he were lurking now about thy heart, That the same wounds might reach you both, and send Your reeling souls together! Now have at you. Alph. We must not, sir, be idle. [They fight; Columbo’s second [Alphonso], slain. Her. What think you now of praying? Colum. Time enough.70 He kills Hernando’s second. Commend me to my friend; the scales are even. I would be merciful, and give you time Now to consider of the other world; You ’ll find your soul benighted presently. Her. I ’ll find my way i’ the dark. They fight, and close; Columbo gets both the swords, and Hernando takes up the second’s weapon. Colum. A stumble’s dangerous.75 Now ask thy life.—Ha! Her. I despise to wear it, A gift from any but the first bestower. Colum. I scorn a base advantage.— Columbo throws away one of the swords: they fight. Hernando wounds Columbo.— Ha! Her. I am now Out of your debt. Colum. Thou ’st don ’t, and I forgive thee. Give me thy hand; when shall we meet again? Her. Never, I hope.81 Colum. I feel life ebb apace: yet I ’ll look upwards, And show my face to Heaven. [Dies.] Her. The matter’s done; I must not stay to bury him. Exit.

Notes in this chapter

Note 1 · A retired spot without the city.