 | The Pictvre |  |
Scæna secunda.
Enter Sophia, Baptista.Sophia.
Was he iealous of me?
Baptista.
Ther's no perfite loue
Without some touch of't Madam.
Sophia.
And my picture
Made by your diuelish art, a spie vpon
My actions? I neuer sate to be drawne,
Nor had you sir comision for't,
Baptista.
excuse me,
At his earnest sute I did it.
Sophia.
Very good,
Was I growne so cheape in his opinion of me?
Baptista.
The prosperous euents that cround his fortunes
May qualifie the offence.
Sophia.
Rood the euents
The sanctuary fooles and madmen flie to,
when their rash and desperat vndertakings thriue well
But good, and wisemen are directed by
Graue counsailes, and with such deliberation
Proceed in their affaires that chance had nothing
To do with 'em, howsoere, take the paynes sir
To meete the honor in the King, and Queenes
Approches to my house, that breakes vpon mee
I will expect them with my best of care
Baptista.
To entertaine such royall ghests.
Sophia.
I know it
Exit Baptista.
Leaue that to me sir what should moue the Queene
So giuen to ease and pleasure, as fame speakes her,
To such a iourney? or worke on my Lord
To doubt my loyalty? nay more to take
For the resolution of his feares, a course
That is by holy writ denide a christian?
'Twas impious in him, and perhaps the welcome
He hopes in my embraces may deceiue
His expectation the trumpets speake
The Kings arriuall, helpe a womans wit now,
To make him know his fault and my iust anger.
Exit Sophia.
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