University of Virginia Library

Actus quintus.

Scæna prima.

Enter Valladaura, Aldana, and Pineda, Centella.
Pine.

What disturbs Valladaura?

Alda.

What meanes my sonne?

Valla.

To runne, and roare, and bellow.

Cent.

You are not mad?

Valla.

As the great beast call'd Bull; Oh the crampe, the
crampe!

Alda.

Where?

Valla.

Here, there, every where, in my Cry, my Mouth, my
tongue, pull, and you love mee, pull.

Pine.

Where?

Valla.

In the middle there.

Alda.

What doe you meane?

Valla.

Shew you a true Embleme of my selfe, I am married.

Alda.

True, to my daughter.

Valla.

Yes, to a strumpet, to a lascivious strumpet, not possible
to draw on my wedding shooes without a horne.

Alda.
You are too darke.

Valla.
And your daughter too light.

Omnes.
Speake your griefes fully.

Valla.
As patience, not suffer me this piece
Of frailty, cut out of the heart of beauty,
Where I so lov'd, as it was doubtfull whether
Shee or my life were deerer to mee; shee
Whom by mee married, is this night
Claspt with a stranger: makes her fathers house
The wedding chamber, and her nuptiall sheetes
Reeke to adulterate pleasure—

Alda.
Little to my honor and this be true;

Valla.
Would, oh my lost life, I could prove it false,
Fates not so mercifull; late up at revells;
I will not say some of her sect of late
Plide me with wine, to give her purpose food,
But healths flew round, and with full wing, and still
I was their aime:
They mist their aime tho', and yet but a fayrer
Assoone as opportunity serv'd me:
Vnseene I left 'em, and by a private key,
Went to my Chamber, where I said, Ile dare call her
Neither my wife, nor Bride; your lustfull daughter.

Alda.
Doing no hurt, I hope shee has more care of him then so.

Valla.
Wearied with pleasure, shee lies fast asleepe,
Laid in a strangers armes, sh'as stay'd my speech,
'Tas dim'd mine eyes from sight, and patience,
Restrain'd my head from fury: what hee is, or whence,
I neither know nor question.

Alda.

I commend ye, my daughter a whore, make my house
a stews, and her father a pander; is this all the honor she doth me?

Pine.

Dishonor'd above sufferance.

Alda.

Wine, and a strumpet, were there no hope of generation,
but in her onely, this hand should be her hang-man: a whore
on her wedding night, There's more modesty contem'd in a
Goate, strumpet, whore, I will not call her daughter, Ile loose
her, Will you leade the way?

Valla.

Your pardon, I am so mildly temper'd, the expence
Of one cheape teare, would buy her pardon; had her fault
stroke at my life; If you intend revenge,
Do't in my absence.

Alda.

Th'art a chicken, leave us, tho' a fathers name, Ile beare
a lyons heart, breake ope the doores, strumpet, why Impudence,

breake ope the doore—

Petr.

Whom doe you seeke?

Enter Petrocella with a bloody punyard.
Alda.

A strumpet, thee, a—I can't devise a name bad enough
for thee.

Petr.
Ile give my selfe one, call me Murtheresse;
A Name I am prowd of.

Valla.
Ha?

Al.
She has sau'd us a labor; what means this bloody punyard?

Petr.
Reade in my brow, doe you not see his name
Writ in red letters?

Alda.
I see none: whose? what name?

Petr.
Base Valladauraes—

Alda.
Thy Husband?

Petr.
Hee was never mine: for tho' you joyn'd our hands,
My heart ne're tide a man to 't; and how ever duty
Lives at command, Love cannot be inforc'd,
And rather then live bound to one I love not,
I have bought my freedome with his life.

Valla.
False woman?

Petr.
Alive againe! blest starre—

Valla.
I nere was dead,
But thou hast kill'd a man, whom to have sau'd,
Had I a thousand lives, Ide loose them all:
O valliant Ferrers, a more Noble Gentleman
Never drew aire.

Omnes.
The English man?

Valla.
The wonder,
And abstract of all vertues: did you but know
What bold and noble Passages of honor,
He for my sake, with danger hazzarded,
You would have thought there were more deity,
Then man within him—

Petr.
Choaked in my revenge,
This Ioyes mee yet, that tho' I mist thy life,
I reach'd thy friends.

Valla.
My friend indeede: and one,
That did'st but know how ardently he lou'd
Thee Tiger, thee, his cruell murderer,
Thou'dst curse thy hand, and hate thy bloody selfe,
For thy not loving him.

Alda.

If hee were so loving to her, and honourable to you
what businesse had hee in your Chamber?

Vall.
Much, and farre more then ever was in man,
But passing many unmatch'd curtesies,
In honors duell, when I all hope had lost,
Ever to win the—

Petr.

That slave woo'd mee for you, so much the sweeter by
that, The thought of my revenge.

Valla.
To trie him further, In a church-mans habit,
Altho' hee lov'd thee dearer then his life,
At my intreat hee married us.

Petr.
White-liver'd peasant,
I have given him a due recompence.

Valla.
But last,
And it may stand, writ in the Rowle of time,
A daring challenge to all Ages.

Pine.
You sent him to bed to your wife.

Petro.
Which tho' I hated him, I must acknowledge
Him noble that way.

Valla.
Every way; the World
Has lost a Iewell, not to be regain'd
By losse of twenty Worlds.

Cent.

But to what purpose did you send him to your wives
bed?

Valla.
My purpose was, having once past that triall,
To have made you man and wife.

Alda.
How could that bee, when you were married before?

Valla.
Shee was never mine, the marriage was not lawfull,
Done by a Lay-man; But mans fate, 'tis throwne
Above his reach, our hopes are not our owne.

Petr.
Ha, ha, ha.

Valla.
Dost laugh at sorrow?

Petr.

Would you have mee turne Crocodile, and weepe, Ferrers,
Mont Ferrers, prithee come helpe me to laugh a little.

Enter Ferrers.
Valla.

Ferrers! my friend alive?

Petr.

By this blood of a Turtle, and that's a chaste oath, hee
never did.

Valla.

Hast fail'd thy promise, and abus'd my trust?

Petr.

Doe but name the word, abuse by love, and Ile kill him
indeed; what should hee doe? He came to bed, and for his eyes
sake, slept with mee, yet ne're so much as kist mee, but I confesse,
I gave him twenty.

Valla.

To quittance with him thus, I give him thy hand.

Ferr.

I aske no more, I have her heart already.

Petr.

Have heart and faith, Noble Mont Ferrers.

Alda.

My daughter chaste, my house honest, and noble Ferrers
my Son-in-law; this happens to my further honor indeede.

Pine.

Noble of all sides, and so for joy of your friendly agreement,
the Amorous sunne is come to give you a hunts-up.

Cent.

Aurora lookes red at that, but with the new light, new
businesse meetes us, Bonavidaes Execution.

Pine.

Ten a clocke, is the last houre his life has to reckon.

Alda.

Please you take patt of a short breakfast, wee will accompany
you.

Valla.
Come Ferrers, now all Tryalls are confirm'd
In this Imbrace.

Fer.
You have beene ever noble.

Exeunt.
Enter Manhurst, Hellen, and her Maid page-like.
Helle.
This then is Spaine, into which continent
You promist to conduct mee.

Manh.
Yes, it is.

Helle.
And what this Cities name?

Manh.
Civill, the chiefe of Spaine; where I presume
You never were till now.

Helle.
As I remember: I never was in Civill, but being heere,
How shall wee best dispose us?

Manh.
Doubt not mee: Ile fit you with a lodging;
Heere's a Spaniard, Ile sownd him to that purpose.

Enter the Clowne.
Clow.

Trust a Woman? trust thy morgage to an Vsurer, thy
shoulder to the Mace, or thy bare backe to the Beadle, thou
wilt bee whipt on all sides; a Woman?

Helle.
This fellow, as I recollect my selfe,
Was servant to the noble Bonavida.

Rosa.
I know him, 'tis the same.

Clow.

Why are they cal'd faire, but that they are like a Faire
where every one sets up shop, and any man may buy for his mony?
why lovely, but to denote unto us, they lie when they tell
a man they love him? why chaste? unlesse from Coast to countrey,
and from Constable to Constable: Why Virgin? but that
they are meerely gins and snares to intangle poore men in: why,
when a man courts them, doe they cry, away, away? but only
to tell a man that there is a way, if he have the wit to finde it.
Oh, Women, Women, fœmineo gentri tribuuntur Propria quæ
Maribus.

Man.
This fellow I perceive's a Satyrist
Against the Feminine Sex Save thee, my friend.

Clow.

From Women and I care not, for there's against them
no standing.

Helle.

Is there in them such danger?

Clow.

Danger, I find but a little in that face, and tis a face able
to out-face the best face in Spaine. A face that I have beene face
to face with, before now, but 'tis so long since I cannot tell when
and we have travelld so many Countries I cannot guesse where,
Are you a stranger faire Lady?

Helle.

Yes, and a traveller.

Clow.

I love you the better for that, for indeed I my selfe have
seene Countries, and I see no reason, but that if both parties
were agreed we two might lie together by Authority.

Man.

Why I have travel'd too—

Clow.

Alas, poore fellow, thou lookst not with the face, but
if thou canst give mee but the true fashions and descriptions
of Countries, or my friend, with mee you can purchase no
Credit.

Man.

I shall and thus in briefe too.

The Song.

Clow.

God-a-mercy for this in faith, and were it not that
the griefe, for my Noble Masters death, and that to morrow
too—

Helle.

Why, hast thou a master to suffer?

Clow.

Yes, and about a face too that would have serv'd the
turne, if the heart had been correspondent. If you have a minde
to see the pittifull spectacle, I'le helpe you to a place, where you
shall have roome to see, leasure to lament, and time to shed
teares.

Helle.
Strange, most strange, I will inquire this further,
I'th' meane time, canst helpe us to a lodging?

Clow.

Yes, especially for such a face. If you desire a strong
one, to a prison. If you would lie cheape and save charges, 'tis
but speaking treason, and I'le helpe you to be billeted, at the
Kings castle.

Enter Bonavida with Officers, and executioner.
Bona.
The Queene playes with my death,
And bids me act a bold Tragedians part,
To which, such moving action I will give,
That it shall glaze this Theater round with teares,
And all that shall behold me on this stage,
Pittying my fate: shall taxe her cruelty,
And to the Spanish Chronicles let this aide,
That he whose tongue hath justified their sex,
Whose sword hath coapt brave Champions for their fame
Whose travells have been to maintaine their honours,
And of their vertues to give large approofe,
That he, whose labour was their praise t'uphold,
Should by a woman fall; a faire false woman:
And be it not the least staine to that Country,
That she was bred in England.

Sound, Enter Sebastian, Isabella, Ferrers, Valladaura, Aldana, Pineda, Petrocella, &c.
Sebast.
The character you have given that noble stranger,
His valour, faith, and friendship Valladaura,
So deepely hath imprest us: that we are pleas'd,
To see him match't into a noble house,
And wee from henceforth shall account him ours.

Isabel.
Faire Petrocella, we commend your choyce,
For if renowne hath blazomd him aright.
Spaine it could scarce have betterd: we have stor'd
Favours for you, and high respect for him,
Which leasure shall make knowne; but to the Prisoner,
That's now our present businesse: Seate you Lords,
Pineda, you next us.

Bona.
Queene here's your sport,
And this the marke you aime at: yet in this
Deale gently with me, doe not mock my death,
And Ile expose my life as willingly,
As in my ripest joyes and best of pleasures.
In love which most I wish to have preserv'd,
Nor trouble me with vaine intergatories
To turne my soule (in the high rode to heaven
Into some dangerous by-path) grant but this,
My death I freely pardon.

Isabel.
Those small minutes
You have to spend, are at your owne desires,
No tongue shall interrupt you.

Bonavid.
Now you are kinde:
I now with what prepared speed I can
Will come to kisse my Fate.

Prepares for death.
Enter Manhurst, Hellena, and the Maide.
Man.
Come Lady, if we presse not through the throng
Wee shall not get to th'hearing.

Helle.
'Mongst all these Courtiers, point me out the man?

Maid.
That Picke-devant that elbowes next the Queene.

Helle.
Enough, no more.

Bona.
Now farewell Royall Soveraigne and great Queene,
Vnto whose high and sacred Majesty
My forfeit head thus stoopes: and best lov'd Peeres,
I only wish this blood you shall see drawne
Had drop't before the common enemie,
The barbarous Turke: in some just Christian cause
Not in this feminine quarrell. I had then
Dyde a crown'd Martyr: that offend our like
Now bow to th'Axe of Iustice: fare-well to
Thee, for whose love I undergoe this shame,
May thy repentance for thy guilt begge pardon,
That wee may meete in blest Elizium,
There our soules kisse together: Farewell world,
Growne so corrupt, thou wilt not suffer Vertue
And Beauty roofe together: may thy charitie
Guide me to yon safe harbour. Thus I fall
Beneath my'offences, and take leave of—

Helle.
Stay.

Jsabel.
Who interupts our Iustice?

Helle.
As you are Royall,
And worthy of those honors arch your head,
Deferre that bloody businesse now in hand,
To right an injur'd woman.

Manh.
What meanes this?

Sebast.
A lovely and sweete presence.

Ferr.
That apparition transports mee into wonder.

Isabel.
A rare aspect; had shee a suiting vertue,
Pineda, I should halfe suspect my challenge,
And willingly compound.

Pine.
Most Divine Princesse,
Should they meete heere, I should not blame your feares,
Since th'one appeares to bee incomparable.

Sebast.
What seeke you from this throne?

Helle.
That in which Kings
Resemble most the Gods: Iustice.

Isabel.
'Gainst whom?

Helle.
Against a Fellon, robber! a base thiefe.
Harbour'd in this your Court.

Sebast.
If such live heere,
As wee are King, wee bannish him our patronage.
And yeeld him up to sentence: first, faire creature,
Give us your name, your birth, and qualitie.

Helle.
My Nation forraine: birth, not high degree'd,
Nor every way ignoble: for my qualitie,
Some that presume to know mee, call me Libertine,
Wanton and wild wench; nay, a Curtizan:
But were I looser then ere Lais was,
It should not barre mee justice.

Sebast.
Thou shalt ha'te.

Ferr.
That word quak'd all the blood within my vaines,
And agues all my nerves.

Pine.
You keepe your owne yet madam.

Isabel.
And of that,
Pineda, I am prowd, infinite prowde,
I nere was pleas'd with anies, sinne till now;
It makes mee still unpeer'd.

Sebast.
Speake, what's your wrong?

Helle.
See you this pantofle?
Twas a rich paire, till the base fellonie,
Of one of this your Court divided them;
For being lodg'd, and nobly entertain'd,
Was not alone content to vitiate
Both fame and body, and to take full surfet
Of that my prostitution, but unworthy
The title of a noble Gentleman,
Hee stole the slipper there, that fellowes this,
Valewed at no lesse then a Thousand Crownes.

Sebast.
And cheapely rated too, find out the man,
And bee hee one Inthron'd in our highest grace,
Hee shall be thine to censure.

Isab.
Take surveigh,
Make strickt inquiry, single men by men:
For mine owne part, so much I grieve thy losse,
And his base theft abhorre, that were't the man
Vpon whose shoulder wee did use to leane,
Severitie should judge him.

Helle.
You are all gratious,
And Ile make bold to use the benefit
Of this your Clemency.

Ferr.
Oh that some whirle-wind would but snatch mee up,
And beare me to a desart wildernesse,
Where never man was knowne, to sunder mee
So farre, If not much further, from my shame.

Petr.
Pray sir, why should this beautie trouble you?
If one of your acquaintance.

Ferr.
I hope Lady, you are not Iealous, are you?

Helle.
Sir looke up: you are no whit like the man.

Bona.
But shee the woman,
For whom the sword thus thirstes: is this a vision?
Or else some waking dreame.

Helle.

And have I found thee villaine? Think'st thou Majestie
can be protection for a common thiefe?

This is that base fellonious impudente,
Shame to his Nation, scandall to his birth,
And a disgrace unto that Royall Court,
In which hee seemes protected.

Pine.
Ha, who I?

Isabel.
Pineda guilty; shall wee bolster theft,
And patronage dishonour.

Helle.
Iustice Queene,
Iustice great sir, let not this hie tribunall,
So famous by that Virgin, sent from heaven,
That beares the sword and ballance, now be taxt
Of favour, or connivence.

Sebast.
As wee hope,
To be held worthy of the Crowne wee weare,
Thou shalt not find us partiall.

Isabel.
Hence from us,
For till thou canst approve thine Innocence,
And cleere this blacke aspersion throwne on thee,
Wee heere abandon thee, to the soveritie
Of the Lawes rigorous censure.

Pine.
You amaze mee,
Nor know I what this meanes.

Helle.
I challenge then this man for stealing from mee
The fellow to this slipper.

Pine.
Of which crime,
I heere protest mee cleere: Name the time where.

Helle.
That night, when I became thy Paramore,
brested thee, in these armes received thee
Into my free Imbraces, and imparted
The lavish store of such voluptuous sweetes,
I lent with all profusenesse.

Pine.
I doe this!
Madam, by all my favours stor'd in you,
I never look'd upon that face till now;
Nor doe I know what this Imposture meanes.

Helle.
What saith my Page to this?

Maid.
That 'tis most false,
And what my Lady heere protests for true,
That, noble sir, I'me witnesse, as a man
To all his vnjust actions accessary.

Centel.
Produce mee as a party? May this presence,
And awefull Throne, 'fore which I stand accus'd,
Pronounce mee as a man forsooke and lost,
If in the least of what these two suggest,
I have the smallest knowledge.

Sebast.
Both wayes strange.

Pine.
Bring mee in censure? by that royalty,
Beneath whose grace I breathe, shee is to mee
As forraine as an Indian: and her cause
As farre from my acqauintance: by my life,
Which ne're before a more Royall Court,
Could have bin call'd in question: what shee is,
I know not: of what Nation, birth, degree;
How, or from whence deriv'd, what continent,
Or from what place shee's come; shee may be Turke,
But More shee cannot bee, shee is so faire,
Shee's strange to me, yet somewhat should I say;
To brest with her, I might as well have done it
With a Beare, or Lionnesse: Madam with her
I vow I never did.

Helle.
Give me thy oath of that.

Pine.
I can, and dare.

Cent.
And I as willingly,
That I was never second to a man,
In any such false businesse.

Helle.
Let them sweare.

Isabel.
They shall.

Pine.
Wee will.

Bona.
This is a conflict worse,
Then in the sad Duell 'tweene death and life,
When neither's certaine, both in difficulty,
As it is now with me I pray ha done
That I were posted to your Country, there
To finish all my Travells.

Helle.
Both have sworne:
And Princes, as you hope to crowne your heads
With that perpetuall wreath, which shall last ever,
Cast on a poore dejected innocent Virgine
Your eies, of grace and pitty: what sinne is't?
Or who can be the patron to such evill?
That a poore innocent Maid, spotlesse in thought,
And pure in heart, borne without spleene and gall:
That never injur'd creature: never had heart
To thinke of wrong, or ponder injurie;
That such a one in her white innocence,
Striving to live peculiar in the compasse
Of her owne vertues, Notwithstanding these
Should be sought out by strangers, persecuted
Made infamous, even there where she was made
For imitation, hist at in her Country,
Abandoned of her mother, kindred, friends:
Deprav'd in forren Climes, scorn'd every where,
And even in Princes Courts, reputed vile:
O pitty, pitty this.

Sebast.
Thou speak'st Enigma's woman, and hast neede
To finde a Sphinx to explaine them.

Helle.
Then behold,
The strangest calling impos'd on me
That ere was laid on Virgin; I am shee
For whom this noble Sir hath undertooke,
And wrongly stands convicted, this that body
So stain'd and sullied by these barbarous tongues,
That even in scolding lies justice, for heav'n
Hath forc't them to sweare truth, they never saw me,
How am I then polluted gratious Queene?
How can such finde competitours in vertue,
That will not give it countenance: had those murdred me,
As they have kild my fame and havock't that,
A pittied and crown'd martyr I had dy'de,
That am in censure now, a condemn'd heretick,
And meere Apostate to all woman-hood;
And what I ever made my President,
Sincerity and goodnesse: Villeines blush,
And Sir, out gaze their falshood, Queene bee just;
Least in the Ocean of that prize you steale,
You shipwracke all your glories.

Sebast.
'Tis most strange:

Isabel.
We know you not,
Give us some lively instance, y'are the woman.

Helle.
How should I know that Ring to be the same
Of which my credulous maide was by these two
Cheated and rob'd, most treacherously betrai'd;
That Carkanet you weare, peruse it well,
Hath both my name and picture. Markes sufficient
To prove me no imposter. Doth your guilt
Bow you so low already? let your penitence
There stay you, least your sinnes weight cleave the earth,
And sinke you downe to hell.

Bona.
What prostrates them
Mounts me to expectations: my blest choyse,
Now I have seene thy apparant innocence,
Queene I shall die contented.

Isabel.
Oh, till now,
I never thought to bee vanquish't.

Pin.
Pox on that slipper.

Fer.
Stand you all mute? then give me leave to speake.

Petr.
Sir, what doth this concerne you?

Fer.
Woman, peace.

Helle.
Oh sir, you are my brother.

Fer.
Strumpet hence,
Would I had never knowne thee, thou hast made mee
A forren scorne, and where I aime at honour
Most infamous and loath'd, this vitiated beauty
Even by her owne confession late deflowr'd
I beg from this most sacred Majesty,
To see severely chastis'd: being English
To have that English shame and punishment,
Due to the like offendours.

Sebast.
Shee stands cleer'd
By her accusers silence.

Fer.
This may be
A meere confederacy, but to my feares
At all no satisfaction, her owne tongue
Hath publish't her a mechall prostitute,
And that is my first truth.

Vall.
I pray Sir,
What is this matchlesse beauty unto you,
Being already in your selfe ingag'd
To this faire Creature, that this Strangers case
Should any way be yours.

Fer.
Spaines admiration.
And wonder of a friend. I dare to you
Be plaine and serious: to all others eares I
Wish my words lock't in silence: Oh, with shame
And infamy I speake it, desiring heaven
'T might be my last of speech, this thing, polluted
This (would I had ought elce to stile her by)
But needes out, out it must, she is my—my Sister.

Vall.
Flesh and blood?

Fer.
The same, Oh me, the same, my naturall Sister.

Vall.
Father and mother?

Fer.
So.

Vall.
You are not honest,
And now no more my friend: I doe begin
To doubt you, nay, most hainously suspect you,
I scarce can thinke you a true morall man,
Much lesse Religious: Ferrers before these,
This Royall bench, either confesse thee mad,
Desperate, and quite given o're to callumnie
Or in behalfe of this (I know not who)
I chalenge thee the combat.

Fer.
Oh, you are mine
And I vowed ever yours.

Vall.
Come, no such thing.
Either pronounce this Lady innocent,
Or I denounce thee miscreant.

Man.
Though I have stood
In silence all this while, yet in this cause
I, I my selfe am taxt: and to approve
This Ladies Beautie, vertue, chastity
I'le be this Spanyard's second.

Bona.
I am wrongd,
And thou hast don't, try both, I should be first,
But be thou what thou canst be, he or thou,
So freely hath this Lady shew'd her selfe
Mine, so I now dare terme her, that in spight
Of spleene or envie's opposition;
It is a thing I doe desire to imbrace
And meet in violent lightnings: and then
I speake it, she is mine: and this encounter
Concernes me, onely me; who intercepts me
Is guilty of my chalenge, his owne death,
Her injury, and my most just revenge.

Fer.
Pray lets talke mildly:
And first to you, to whom my soule's ingag'd,
Why should you hazard such a precious life
For one by her owne language stands condemn'd.

Vall.
Because she is thy Sister; and so well
I love thy merit that no new impression
Can sinke in me, that any of thy Line,
Can ever stand polluted: I have found thee
In all thy deeds so noble—

Fer.
Oh you have moulded her
In me anew: and friend your confirmation,
I doe receive her perfect as the woman,
Whose acts are lawes, whose saying's Oracles,
And she was never truly mine, till now, so I receive her
from you. But I pray,
What might you be of whom I have deserv'd
So ill to make you my Antagonist?

Vall.
Or why to me, to bee so deere a friend
As to become my second, since your face
I never saw till now.

Man.
Not Manhurst?

Ferr.
Friend!

Man.
Oh sir, you were my ransome.

Bonavi.
I am wrapt:
Spaine shew thy Iustice; now, where, or from whence
Canst thou desire so rare a president:
Wouldst thou see Beauty? Looke upon that face:
Or Vertue? heere, see thy true Innocence,
Valour in him, true noblenesse in them all,
And happy them, that naked of all these,
Hath sent thee hither forraine presidents,
For instruction, and example.

Isabel.
Now I yeeld:
And till now never; hence base sycophants,
I shall abjure you ever, Flattering glasses,
That gave mee a false face, but in this Christall,
I now behold mee truely, you are shee
By whom Ile henceforth dresse mee, and not weare
No hurt, of which you are not president;
Bee ever mine: next her, you that have travell'd
To fetch mee o're this Mirrour, which Ile casket,
As my best jewell: I now finde my selfe,
That to my selfe, was till this day unknown,
I have transgrest in that I sought to fleece
So pure a Diamond.

Sebast.
Come, wee'le end all this:
First, Lady wee'le acquit your Iealousie,
Shee is his siste: Ferrers, wee shall ranke you
In as high grace, as you are in his love;
Nor have you Manhurst, least exprest your selfe,
In gratitude to him, friendship to both;
You Bonavida wee restore, you stand
In the eye of our preferrement: you wee admire:
And thus conclude: Two Nations have contended
For brest and face, in you both these are ended.

Exeunt.