With pleasure, believing I had been your martyr.

Now———

⁠Iph. She looks pale! Francelia!⁠135

⁠Fran. I cannot stay:
A hasty summons hurries me away,
And—gives—no———[She dies

⁠Iph. She's gone,
She's gone! Life, like a dial's hand, hath stol'n⁠140
From the fair figure, ere it was perceiv'd.

What will become of me? Too late, too late
Y'are come: you may persuade wild birds, that wing
The air, into a cage, as soon as call
Her wand'ring spirits back.⁠145
Ha!
Those are strange faces: there's a horror in them;
And, if I stay, I shall be taken for
The murtherer. O, in what straits they move,
That wander 'twixt death, fears, and hopes of love![Exit⁠150

⁠Bren. Forbear, upon your lives,
The place! There dwells Divinity within it.
All else the castle holds is lawful prize,
Your valour's wages: this I claim as mine.
Guard you the door.⁠5

⁠Grd. Coronel, shall you use all the women yourself?

⁠Bren. Away! 'tis unseasonable.[They retire: he draws the curtain
Awake, fair saint, and bless thy poor idolater.
Ha! pale? And cold? And dead ?
The sweetest guest fled—murdered, by heaven!⁠10
The purple streams not dry yet!
Some villain has broke in before me,
Robb'd all my hopes; but I will find him out,
And kick his soul to hell. I'll do't.
⁠[Dragging out Iphigene] Speak!

⁠Iph. What should I say?⁠15

⁠Bren. Speak, or by all———

⁠Iph. ⁠Alas! I do confess