LODOWICK. Then, gentle Abigail, plight thy faith to me.

ABIGAIL. I cannot choose, seeing my father bids:
Nothing but death shall part my love and me.

LODOWICK. Now have I that for which my soul hath long'd.

BARABAS. So have not I; but yet I hope I shall.
[Aside.]

ABIGAIL. O wretched Abigail, what hast thou<89> done?
[Aside.]

LODOWICK. Why on the sudden is your colour chang'd?

ABIGAIL. I know not: but farewell; I must be gone.

BARABAS. Stay her, but let her not speak one word more.

LODOWICK. Mute o' the sudden! here's a sudden change.

BARABAS. O, muse not at it; 'tis the Hebrews' guise,
That maidens new-betroth'd should weep a while:
Trouble her not; sweet Lodowick, depart:
She is thy wife, and thou shalt be mine heir.

LODOWICK. O, is't the custom? then I am resolv'd:<90>
But rather let the brightsome heavens be dim,
And nature's beauty choke with stifling clouds,
Than my fair Abigail should frown on me.--