Confusion on the noblest Gentleman
That ever truly lov'd. But we shall meet
Where our condemners shall not, and enjoy
A more refin'd affection than here;
No Law, nor Father hinders marriage there
'Twixt souls Divinely affi'd, as (sure) ours were:
There we will multiply, and generate joyes
Like fruitful Parents. Luckless _Ferdinand_,
Where's the good old Gentlewoman, my Husbands Aunt?
_Ferd._ Thrust from you Uncle [t]o all poverty.
_Viol._ Alas the pi[t]y: reach me, Sir, the cup;
I'll say my prayers, and take my Fathers Physick.
_Ferd._ Oh villain that I was, I had forgot
To spill the rest, and am unable now
To stir to hinder her.
_Viol._ What ail you, Sir?
_Ferd._ Your Father is a monster, I a villain,
This tongue has kill'd you, pardon, _Violant[a]_,
Oh pardon, _Gerrard_; and for sacrifice,
Accept my life, to expiate my fault.
I have drunk up the poison.
_Viol._ Thou art not so
Uncharitable: a better fellow far,
Thou'st left me halfe. Sure death is now a-dry,
And calls for more bloud still to quench his thirst.
I pledge thee _Ferdinand_, to _Gerrards_ health:
Dear _Gerrard_, poor Aunt, and unfortunate friend,
Ay me, that Love should breed true Lovers end.
_Fer._ Stay Madam, stay; help hoa, for Heavens sake help;
Improvident man, that good I did intend
For satisfaction, saving of her life,
My equal cruel Stars made me forget.
_Enter_ Angelina _with two Servants_.
_Ang._ What spectacle of death assaults me? oh!
_Viol._ M[y] dearest Mother, I am dead, I leave
Father, and friends, and life, to follow Love.
Good Mother, love my Child, that did no ill.
Fie, how men lie, that say, death is a pain:
Or has he chang'd his nature? like soft sleep
He seizes me. Your blessing. Last, I crave,
That I may rest by _Gerrard_ in his grave.
_Ferd._ There lay me too: oh! noble Mistriss, I
Have caus'd all this; and therefore justly dye.
That key will open all.
_Ang._ Oh viperous Father!
For Heavens sake, bear 'em in: run for Physitians,
And Medicines quickly: Heaven, thou shalt not have her
Yet; 'tis too soon: Alas, I have no more,
And taking her away, thou rob'st the poor. [_Exeunt._
Flourish.
_Enter_ Duke, States, Randulpho, Benvoglio,
Gerrard, Executioner, Guard.
_Duke._ The Law, as greedy as your red desire
_Benvoglio_, hath cast this man: 'Tis pity
So many excellent parts are swallow'd up
In one foul wave. Is _Violanta_ sent for?
Our Justice must not lop a branch, and let
The body grow still.
_Ben._ Sir, she will be here
Alive or dead, I am sure.
_[G]er._ How chearfully my countenance comments death!
That which makes men seem horrid, I will wear
Like to an Ornament. Oh _Violanta_!
Might my life only satisfie the Law,
How jocundly my soul would enter Heaven!
Why shouldst thou dye? thou wither'st in thy bud,
As I have seen a Rose, e'er it was blown.
I do beseech your Grace, the Statute may
(In this case made) be read: not that I hope
T'extenuate my offence or penalty,
But to see whether it lay hold on her.
And since my death is more exemplary
Than just, this publick Reading will advise
Caution to others.
_Duke._ Read it.
_Ran._ Brother, does not
Your soul groan under this severity?
Statute read.
_A Statute provided in case of unequal Matches, Marriages against
Parents consent, stealing of Heirs, Rapes, Prostitutions, and
such like: That if any person meanly descended, or ignorant of
his own Parentage, which implies as much, shall with a foul
intent, unlawfully sollicite the Daughter of any Peer of the
Dukedom, he shall for the same offence forfeit his right hand:
but if he further prostitute her to his Lust, he shall first
have his right hand cut off, and then suffer death by the common
Executioner. After whom, the Lady so offending, shall likewise
the next day, in the same manner, dye for the Fact._
_Ger._ This Statute has more cruelty than sense:
I see no ray of Mercy. Must the Lady
Suffer death too? suppose she were inforc'd,
By some confederates born away, and ravish'd;
Is she not guiltless?
_Duke._ Yes, if it be prov'd.
_Ger._ This case is so: I ravish'd _Violanta_.
_State._ Who ever knew a Rape produce a child?
_Ben._ Pish, these are idle. Will your grace command
The Executioner proceed?
_Duke._ Your Office.
_Ger._ Farewell to thy inticing vanity,
Thou round gilt box, that dost deceive man's eye:
The wise man knows, when open thou art broke,
The treasure thou includ'st, is dust and smoke,
Even thus, I cast thee by. My Lords, the Law
Is but the great mans mule, he rides on it,
And tramples poorer men under his feet;
Yet when they come to knock at yon bright Gate,
Ones Rags shall enter, 'fore the others State.
Peace to ye all: here, sirrah, strike: this hand
Hath _Violanta_ kiss'd a thousand times;
It smells sweet ever since: this was the hand
Plighted my faith to her: do not think thou canst
Cut that in sunder with my hand. My Lord,
As free from speck as this arm is, my heart
Is of foul Lust, and every vein glides here
As full of truth. Why does thy hand shake so?
'Tis mine must be cut off, and that is firm;
For it was ever constant.
_Enter_ Cornelia.
_Cor._ Hold; your Sentence
Unjustly is pronounced, my Lord: this blow
Cuts your hand off; for his is none of yours:
But _Violanta_'s given in Holy marriage
Before she was delivered, consummated
With the free Will of her Mother, by her Confessor,
In Lord _Benvoglio_'s house.
_Ger._ Alas good Aunt,
That helps us nothing; else I had reveal'd it.
_Duke._ What woman's this?
_Ben._ A base confederate
In this proceeding, kept of alms long time
By him; who now expos'd to misery,
Talks thus distractedly. Attach her, Guard.
_Ran._ Your cruelty (brother) will have end.
_Cor._ You'd best
Let them attach my tongue.
_Duke._ Good woman, peace:
For were this truth, it doth not help thy Nephew;
The Law's infring'd by their disparity,
That forfeits both their lives.
_Cor._ Sir, with your pardon,
Had your Grace ever children?
_Duke._ Thou hast put
A question, whose sharp point toucheth my heart:
I had two little Sons, twins, who were both
(With my good Dutchess) slain, as I did hear;
At that time when my Dukedom was surpriz'd.
_Cor._ I have heard many say (my gracious Lord)
That I was wondrous like her.
_All._ Ha?
_Duke._ By all mans joy, it is _Cornelia_,
My dearest wife.
_Cor._ To ratifie me her,
Come down, _Alphonso_, one of those two twins,
And take thy Fathers blessing: thou hast broke
No Law, thy birth being above thy wives:
_Ascanio_ is the other, nam'd _Fernando_,
Who by remote means, to my Lord _Benvoglio_
I got preferr'd; and in poor habits clad,
(You fled, and th' innovation laid again)
I wrought my self into _Randulpho_'s service,
With my eldest boy; yet never durst reveal
What they and I were, no, not to themselves,
Until the Tyrants death.
_Duke._ My joy has fill'd me
Like a full-winded sail: I cannot speak.
_Ger._ Fetch _Violanta_ and my brother.
_Ben._ Run,
Run like a spout, you rogue: a ---- o' poison,
That little whore I trusted, will betray me.
Stay, hangman, I have work for you; there's Gold;
Cut off my head, or hang me presently.
_Soft Musick._
_Enter_ Angelina _with the bodies of_ Ferdinand _and_ Violanta _on
a bier_; Dorothea _carrying the Cup and Letter, which she
gives to the Duke: he reads, seems sorrowful; shews it to_
Cornelia _and_ Gerrard: _they lament over the bier_. Randulpho
_and_ Benvoglio _seem fearful, and seem to report to_
Angelina _and_ Dorothea, _what hath passed before_.
_Ran._ This is your rashness, brother.
_Duke._ Oh joy, thou wert too great to last;
This was a cruel turning to our hopes,
Unnatural Father: poor _Ascanio_.
_Ger._ Oh mother! let me be _Gerrard_ again,
And follow _Violanta_.
_Cor._ Oh my Son--
_Duke._ Your lives yet, bloudy men shall answer this.
_Dor._ I must not see 'em longer grieve. My Lord,
Be comforted; let sadness generally
Forsake each eye and bosom; they both live:
For poison, I infus'd meer _Opium_;
Holding compulsive perjury less sin
Than such a loathed murther would have bin.
_All._ Oh blessed Ma[iden].
_Dor._ Musick, gently creep
Into their ears, and fright hence lazy sleep.
_Morpheus_, command thy servant sleep
In leaden chains no longer keep
This Prince and Lady: Rise, wake, rise,
And round about convey your eyes:
Rise Prince, go greet thy Father and thy Mother;
Rise thou, t'imbrace thy Husband and thy Brother.
_Duke Cor._ Son, Daughter.
_Ferd._ Father, Mother, Brother.
_Ger._ Wife.
_Viol._ Are we not all in Heaven?
_Ger._ Faith, very near it.
_Ferd._ How can this be?
_Duke._ Hear it.
_Dor._ If I had serv'd you right, I should have seen
Your old pate off, e'r I had reveald.
_Ben._ Oh wench!
Oh honest wench! if my wife die, I'll marry thee:
There's my reward.
_Ferd._ 'Tis true.
_Duke._ 'Tis very strange.
_Ger._ Why kneel you honest Master?
_Ferd._ My good Lord.
_Ger._ Dear Mother.
_Duke._ Rise, rise, all are friends: I owe ye
for all their boards: And wench, take thou the man
Whose life thou sav'dst; less cannot pay the merit.
How shall I part my kiss? I cannot: Let
One generally therefore joyn our cheeks.
A pen of Iron, and a leaf of Brass,
To keep this Story to Eternity:
And a _Promethean Wit_. Oh sacred Love,
Nor chance, nor death can thy firm truth remove. [_Exeunt._
_King._ Now _Isabella_. [_Flourish._
_Isab._ This can true Love do.
I joy they all so happily are pleas'd:
The Ladies and the Brothers must triumph.
_King._ They do:
For _Cupid_ scorns but t' have his triumph too. [_Flourish._
_The_ TRIUMPH.
_Enter divers Musicians, then certain Singers bearing Bannerets_
_inscribed, Truth, Loyalty, Patience, Concord: Next_ Gerrard
_and_ Ferdinand _with Garlands of Roses: Then_ Violanta,
_Last, a Chariot drawn by two_ Cupids, _and a_ Cupid _sitting
in it_. [Flourish.
_Enter_ PROLOGUE.
_Love, and the strength of fair affection_
_(Most royal Sir) what long seem'd lost, have won_
_Their perfect ends, and crown'd those constant hearts_
_With lasting Triumph, whose most virtuous parts,_
_Worthy desires, and love, shall never end._
_Now turn we round the Scæne, and (Great Sir) lend_
_A sad and serious eye to this of Death,_
_This black and dismal Triumph; where man's breath,_
_Desert, and guilty bloud ascend the Stage,_
_And view the Tyrant, ruind in his rage._ [Exit.
[Flourish.
_Enter_ L'avall, Gabriella _and_ Maria.
_Gab._ No, good my Lord, I am not now to find
Your long neglect of me; All those affections
You came first clad in to my love, like Summer,
Lusty and full of life: all those desires
That like the painted Spring bloom'd round about ye,
Giving the happy promise of an Harvest,
How have I seen drop off, and fall forgotten!
With the least lustre of anothers beauty,
How oft (forgetful Lord) have I been blast[e]d!
Was I so eas'ly won? or did this body
Yield to your false embraces with less labour
Then if you had carried some strong Town?
_Lav._ Good _Gabriella_.
_Gab._ Could all your subtilties and sighs betray me.
The vows ye shook me with, the tears ye drown'd me,
Till I came fairly off with honor'd Marriage?
Oh fie, my Lord.
_Lav._ Prethee good _Gabriella_.
_Gab._ Would I had never known ye, nor your honors,
They are stuck too full of griefs: oh happy women,
That plant your Love in equal honest bosoms,
Whose sweet desires like Roses set together,
Make one another happy in their blushes,
Growing and dying without sense of greatness,
To which I am a slave! [and] that blest Sacrament
That daily makes millions of happy mothers, link'd me
To this man's Lust alone, there left me.
I dare not say I am his wife, 'tis dangerous:
His Love, I cannot say: alas, how many?
_Lav._ You grow too warm; pray [ye be] content, you best know,
The times necessity, and how our marriage
Being so much unequal to mine honor,
While the Duke lives, I standing high in favour;
And whilst I keep that safe, next to the Dukedom,
Must not be known, without my utter ruine.
Have patience for a while, and do but dream wench,
The glory of a Dutchess. How she tires me!
How dull and leaden is my appetite
To that stale beauty now! oh, I could curse
And crucifie my self for childish doating
Upon a face that feeds not with fresh Figures
Every fresh hour: she is now a surfet to me.
_Enter_ Gentille.
Who's that? _Gentille?_ I charge ye, no acquaintance
You nor your Maid with him, nor no discourse
Till times are riper.
_Gent._ Fie, my Noble Lord,
Can you be now a stranger to the Court,
When your most virtuous Bride, the beauteous _Hellena_
Stands ready like a Star to gild your happiness,
When _Hymens_ lusty fires are now a lighting,
And all the Flower of _Anjou_?
_Lav._ Some few trifles,
For matter of adornment, have a little
Made me so slow, _Gentille_, which now in readiness,
I am for Court immediately.
_Gent._ Take heed, Sir,
This is no time for trifling, nor she no Lady
To be now entertain'd with toys: 'twill cost ye--
_Lav._ Y'are an old Cock, _Gentille_.
_Gent._ By your Lordships favour.
_Lav._ Prethee away; 'twill lose time.
_Gent._ Oh my Lord,
Pardon me that by all means.
_Lav._ We have business
A-foot man, of more moment.
_Gent._ Then my manners?
I know none, nor I seek none.
_Lav._ Take to morrow.
_Gent._ Even now, by your Lordships leave. Excellent Beauty.
My service here I ever dedicate,
In honor of my best friend, your dead Father,
To you his living virtue, and wish heartily,
That firm affection that made us two happy,
May take as deep undying root, and flourish
Betwixt my Daughter _Casta_, and your goodness,
Who shall be still your servant.
_Gab._ I much thank ye.
_Lav._ ---- [o'] this dreaming puppy. Will ye go, Sir?
_Gent._ A little more, Good Lord.
_Lav._ Not now, by----
Come, I must use ye.
_Gent._ Goodness dwell still with you. [_Exeunt Gentill and Laval._
_Gab._ The sight of this old Gentleman, _Maria_,
Pulls to my mine eyes again the living Picture
Of _Perolot_ his virtuous Son, my first Love,
That dy'd at _Orleance_.
_Mar._ You have felt both fortunes,
And in extreams, poor Lady; for young _Perolot_,
Being every way unable to maintain you,
Durst not make known his love to Friend or Father:
My Lord _Lavall_, being powerful, and you poor,
Will not acknowledge you.
_Gab._ No more: Let's in wench:
There let my Lute speak my Laments, they have t[ir]ed me. [_Exeunt._
_Enter two Courtiers._
_1 Court._ I grant, the Duke is wondrous provident
In his now planting for succession,
I know his care as honourable in the choice too.
_Marines_ fair virtuous daughter; but what's all this?
To what end excellent arrives this travel,
When he that bears the main roof is so rotten?
_2 Court._ You have hit it now indeed: For if Fame lye not
He is untemperate.
_1 Court._ You express him poorly,
Too gentle Sir: the most deboist and barbarous;
Believe it, the most void of all humanity,
Howe'r his cunning, cloak it to his Uncle,
And those his pride depends upon.
_[2] Court._ I have heard too,
Given excessively to drink.
_1 Court._ Most certain,
And in that drink most dangerous: I speak these things
To one I know loves truth, and dares not wrong her.
_2 Court._ You may speak on.
_1 Court._ Uncertain as the Sea, Sir,
Proud and deceitful as his sins Great Master;
His appetite to Women (for there he carries
His main Sail spread) so boundles, and abominably,
That but to have her name by that tongue spoken,
Poisons the virtue of the purest Virgin.
_2 Cour._ I am sorry for young _Gabriella_ then,
A Maid reputed, ever of fair carriage,
For he has been noted visiting.
_1 Court._ She is gone then,
Or any else, that promises, or power,
Gifts, or his guilful vows can work upon,
But these are but poor parcels.
_2 Court._ 'Tis great pity.
_1 Court._ Nor want these sins a chief Saint to befriend 'em,
The Devil follows him; and for a truth, Sir,
Appears in visible figure often to him,
At which time he's possest with sudden trances,
Cold deadly sweats, and griping of the conscience,
Tormented strangely, as they say.
_2 Court._ Heaven turn him:
This marriage-day mayst thou well curse, fair _Hellen_.
But let's go view the ceremony.
_1 Court._ I'll walk with you. [_Exeunt._
[_Musick._
_Enter_ Gabriella, _and_ Maria _above_. _And_ Laval, _Bride,
States in solemnity as to marriage; and pass over_; viz.
Duke, Marine, Longaville.
_Mar._ I hear 'em come.
_Gab._ Would I might never hear more.
_Mar._ I told you still: but you were so incredulous.
See, there they kiss.
_Gab._ Adders be your embraces.
The poison of a rotten heart, oh _Hellen_!
Blast thee as I have been; just such a flattery,
With that same cunning face, that smile upon't,
Oh mark it _Marie_, mark it seriously,
That Master smile caught me.
_Mar._ There's the old Duke, and
_Marine_ her Father.
_Gab._ Oh!
_Mar._ There _Longaville_--
The Ladies now.
_Gab._ Oh, [I] am murder'd, _Marie_.
Beast, most inconstant beast.
_Mar._ There.
_Gab._ There I am not;
No more I am not there: Hear me, oh Heaven!
And all you powers of Justice bow down to me;
But you of pity dye. I am abus'd,
She that depended on your Providence,
She is abus'd: your honor is abus'd.
That noble piece ye made, and call'd it man,
Is turn'd to Devil: all the world's abus'd:
Give me a womans Will, provok'd to mischief,
A two-edg'd heart; my suffering thoughts to wild-fires,
And my embraces to a timeless grave turn.
_Mar._ Here I'll step in, for 'tis an act of merit.
_Gab._ I am too big to utter more.
_Mar._ Take time then. [_Exeunt._
_Enter_ Gentille _and_ Casta.
_Gent._ This solitary life at home undoes thee,
Obscures thy beauty first, which should prefer thee;
Next fills thee full of sad thoughts, which thy years
Must not arrive at yet, they choak thy sweetness;
Follow the time, my Girl, and it will bring thee
Even to the fellowship of the noblest women,
_Hellen_ her self, to whom I would prefer thee,
And under whom this poor and private carriage,
Which I am only able yet to reach at,
Being cast off, and all thy sweets at lustre,
Will take thee as a fair friend, and prefer thee.
_Casta._ Good Sir, be not so cruel as to seek
To kill that sweet content y'have bred me to:
Have I not here enough to thank Heaven for?
The free air uncorrupted with new flattery.
The water that I touch, unbrib'd with odours
To make me sweet to others: the pure fire
Not smothered up, and choak'd with lustful incense
To make my bloud sweat; but burning clear and high,
Tells me my mind must flame up so to Heaven.
What should I do at Court, wear rich apparel?
Methinks these are as warm: And for your state, Sir,
Wealthy enough; Is it you would have me proud,
And like a Pageant, stuck up for amazements?
Teach not your child to tread that path, for fear (Sir)
Your dry bones after death, groan in your grave
The miseries that follow.
_Gent._ Excellent _Casta_.
_Casta._ When shall I pray again? (a Courtier)
Or when I do, to what God? what new body
And new face must I make me, with new manners?
For I must be no more my self. Whose Mistriss
Must I be first? with whose sin-offering season'd?
And when I am grown so great and glorious
With prostitution of my burning beauties,
That great Lords kneel, and Princes beg for favours,
Do you think I'll be your Daughter, a poor Gentlemans,
Or know you for my father?
_Enter_ Lavall.
_Gent._ My best _Casta_.
Oh my most virtuous child! Heaven reigns within thee;
Take thine own choice, sweet child, and live a Saint still.
The Lord _Lavall_, stand by wench.
_Lav. Gabriella_,
She cannot, nor she dares not make it known,
My greatness crushes her, when e'er she offers:
Why should I fear her then?
_Gent._ Come, let's pass on wench.
_Lav. Gentille_, come hither: who's that Gentlewoman?
_Gent._ A child of mine, Sir, who observing custome,
Is going to the Monastery to her Prayers.
_Lav._ A fair one, a most sweet one; fitter far
To beautifie a Court, than make a Votarist.
Go on, fair Beauty, and in your Orizons
Remember me: will ye, fair sweet?
_Casta._ Most humbly. [_Exeunt._
_Lav._ An admirable Beauty: how it fires me!
_Enter a Spirit._
But she's too full of grace, and I too wicked.
I feel my wonted fit: Defend me, goodness.
Oh! it grows colder still, and stiffer on me,
My hair stands up, my sinews shake and shrink;
Help me good Heaven, and good thoughts dwell within me.
Oh get thee gone, thou evil evil spirit,
Haunt me no more, I charge thee.
_Spir._ Yes _Lavall_:
Thou art my vassal, and the slave to mischief,
I blast thee with new sin: pursue thy pleasure;
_Casta_ is rare and sweet, a blowing Beauty;
Set thy desires a fire, and never quench 'em
Till thou enjoy'st her; make her all thy Heaven,
And all thy joy, for she is all true happiness:
Thou art powerful, use command; if that prevail not,
Force her: I'll be thy friend.
_Lav._ Oh help me, help me.
_Spir._ Her virtue, like a spell, sinks me to darkness. [_Exit._
_Enter_ Gentille _and_ Casta.
_Gent._ He's here still. How is't, noble Lord? me thinks, Sir,
You look a little wildly. Is it that way?
Is't her you stare on so? I have spy'd your fire, Sir,
Bu[t] dare not stay the flaming. Come.
_Lav._ Sweet [c]reature,
Excellent Beauty, do me but the happiness
To be your humblest servant. Oh fair eyes,
Oh blessed, Blessed Sweetness, Divine Virgin!
_Casta._ Oh good my Lord, retire into your honor:
You're spoken good and virtuous, plac'd [at] Helme
To govern others from mischances: from example
Of such fair Chronicles as great ones are,
We do, or sure we should direct our lives.
I know y'are full of worth, a school of virtue
Daily instructing us that live below ye,
I make no doubt, dwells there.
_Lav._ I cannot answer,
She has struck me dumb with wonder.
_Casta._ Goodness guide ye. [_Exeunt._
_Lav._ She's gone, and with her all [l]ight, and has left me
Dark as my black desires. Oh devil lust,
How dost thou hug my bloud, and whisper to me,
There is no day again, no time, no living,
Without this lusty Beauty break upon me!
Let me collect my self, I strive like billows,
Beaten against a rock, and fall a fool still.
I must enjoy her, and I will: from this hour
My thoughts, and all my bus'ness shall be nothing.
_Enter_ Maria.
My eating, and my sleeping, but her beauty,
And how to work it.
_Mar._ Health to my Lord _Lavall_.
Nay good Sir, do not turn with such displeasure;
I come not to afflict your new born pleasures;
My honour'd Mistriss, neither let that vex ye,
For nothing is intended, but safe to you.
_Lav._ What of your Mistriss? I am full of bus'ness.
_Mar._ I will be short, my Lord; she, loving Lady,
Considering the unequal tie between ye,
And how your ruine with the Duke lay on it,
As also the most noble match now made,
By me sends back all links of marriage,
All Holy Vows, and Rights of Ceremony,
All promises, oaths, tears, and all such pawns
You left in hostage: only her love she cannot,
For that still follows ye, but not to hurt ye;
And still beholds ye Sir, but not to shame ye:
In recompence of which, this is her suit, Sir,
Her poor and last petition, but to grant her,
When weary nights have cloyed ye up with kisses,
(As such must come) the honor of a Mistriss,
The honor but to let her see those eyes,
(Those eyes she doats on, more than gods do goodness)
And but to kiss you only: with this prayer,
(a prayer only to awake your pity)
And on her knees she made it, that this night
You'ld bless her with your company at supper.
_Lav._ I like this well, and now I think on't better,
I'll make a present use from this occasion.
_Mar._ Nay, good my Lord, be not so cruel to her
Because she has been yours.
_Lav._ And to mine own end
A rare way I will work.
_Mar._ Can love for ever,
The Love of her (my Lord) so perish in ye?
As ye desire in your desires to prosper.
What gallant under Heaven, but _Anjou_'s Heir then
Can brag so fair a Wife, and sweet a Mistriss?
Good noble Lord.
_Lav._ Ye mis-apply me, _Mary_,
Nor do I want true pity to your Lady:
Pity and love tell me, too much I have wrong'd her
To dare to see her more: yet if her sweetness
Can entertain a Mediation,
And it must be a great one that can cure me;
My love again, as far as honor bids me,
My service and my self--
_Mar._ That's nobly spoken.
_Lav._ Shall hourly see her; want shall never know her;
Nor where she has bestow'd her love, repent her.
_Mar._ Now whither drives he?
_Lav._ I have heard _Maria_,
That no two women in the world more lov'd,
Then thy good Mistriss, and _Gentille_'s fair Daughter.
_Mar._ What may this mean? you have heard a truth, my Lord:
But since the secret Love betwixt you two,
My Mistriss durst not entertain such friendship;
_Casta_ is quick, and of a piercing judgement,
And quickly will find out a flaw.