University of Virginia Library

Actus Quintus.

Scæna Prima.

Enter Ismenia and Aminta.
Ism.
O thou false,

Am.
Do your daringst, he's mine owne,
Soul and body mine, church and chamber mine,
Totally mine.

Ism.
Darst thou face thy falshood?

Am.
Shall I not give a welcom to my wishes
Come home so sweetly: farewell your company
Till you be calmer woman.

Exit.
Ism.
Oh what a heap
Of misery has one night brought with it.

Ent. Ant.
Ant.
Where is he? do you turn your shame from me?
You'r a blind Adultresse, you know you are.

Ism.
How's that Antonio?

Ant.
Till I have vengeance,
Your sin's not pardonable: I'll have him,
If hell hide him not: y'have had your last of him.

Exit.
Ism.
What did he speak? I understood him not,
He calld me a foul name, it was not mine,
He took me for another sure.

Enter Bellides.
Bel.
Hah? are you there?
Where's your sweet heart? I have found you Traytor
To my house: wilt league with mine enemie?
You'll shed his blood, you'll say: hah? will you so?
And fight with your heels upwards? No Minion,
I have a husband for you, since y'are so ranck,
And such a husband as thou shalt like him,
Whether thou wilt or no: Antonio?

Ism.
It thunders with the storm now.

Bel.
And to night
I'll have it dispatch'd: I'll make it sure, I,
By to morrow this time thy Maiden-head
Shall not be worth a Chicken, if it were
Knockt at an out-cry: go, I'll ha'ye before me:
Shough, shough, up to your coop, peay Hen.

Ism.
Then I'll try my wings.

Exit.
Bel.
I, are you good at that? stop, stop thief, stop there.

Exit.

Scæna secunda.

Enter Otrante and Florimell singing.
1. Song.
Flo.
Now having leisure, and a happy wind,
Thou maist at pleasure cause the stones to grind,
Sayles spread, and grist here ready to be ground,
Fie, stand not idely, but let the Mill go round.

Otr.
Why dost thou sing and dance thus? why so merry?
Why dost thou look so wantonly upon me?
And kisse my hands?

Flo.
If I were high enough,
I would kisse your lips too.

Otr.
Do, this is some kindnes,
This tastes of willingnesse, nay, you may kisse
Still, but why o'th' sudden now does the fitt take ye,
Unoffered, or uncompell'd? why these sweet curtesies?
Even now you would have blush'd to death to kisse thus:
Prethee let me be prepar'd to meet thy kindnes,
I shall be unfurnish'd else to hold thee play, wench:
Stay now a little, and delay your blessings:
If this be love, me-thinks it is too violent:
If you repent you of your strictnesse to me,
If is so sudden, it wants circumstance.

Flo.
2. Song.

Otr.
Prethee be calme a little,
Thou mak'st me wonder, thou that wert so strange,
And read such pious rules to my behaviour
But yesternight: thou that wert made of modestie,
Shouldst in a few short minutes turn thus desperate.

Flo.
You are too cold.

Otr.
I do confesse I freeze now,
I am another thing all over me:
It is my part to wooe, not to be courted:
Unfold this Riddle, 'tis to me a wonder,
That now o'th' instant ere I can expect,
Ere I can turn my thoughts, and think upon
A separation of your honest carriage
From the desires of youth, thus wantonly,
Thus beyond expectation.

Flo.
3. Song.

Otr.
Are ye no maid?

Flo.
Alas (my Lord) no certain:
I am sorry you are so innocent to think so,
Is this an age for silly maids to thrive in?
It is so long too since I lost it Sir,
That I have no belief I ever was one:
What should you do with maiden-heads? you hate'em,
They are peevish pettish things, that hold no game up,
No pleasure neither, they are sport for Surgeons:
I'll warrant you I'll fit you beyond Maiden-head:
A fair and easie way men travel right in,
And with delight, discourse, and twenty pleasures,
They enjoy their journey; mad men creep through hedges.

Otr.
I am metamorphosed: why do you appeare,
I conjure ye, beyond belief thus wanton?

Flo.
4. Song.

Otr.
Then you have traded?

Flo.
Traded? how should I know else how to live Sir,
And how to satisfie such Lords as you are,
Our best guests, and our richest?

Otr.
How I shake now?
You take no base men?

Flo.
5. Song.

Otr.
You are a common thing then.

Flo.
No matter since you have your private pleasure,
And have it by an Artist excellent,
Whether I am thus, or thus, your men can tell ye.

Otr.
My men? Defend me, how I freeze together,
And am on ice? do I bite at such an Orange
After my men? I am preferr'd.

Flo.
Why stay ye?
Why do we talk my Lord, and lose our time?
Pleasure was made for lips, and sweet embraces,
Let Lawyers use their tongues: pardon me Modestie,
This desperate way must help, or I am miserable.

Otr.
She turns, and wipes her face, she weeps for certain,
Some new way now, she cannot be thus beastly,
She is too excellent fair to be thus impudent:
She knows the elements of common loosenesse,
The art of lewdnesse: that, that, that, how now, Sir.

Enter a servant.
Ser.
The King (and't please your Lordship) is alighted
Close at the gate.

Otr.
The King?

Ser.
And calls for ye Sir.
Means to break-fast here too.

Flo.
Then I am happy.

Otr.
Stolne so suddenly? go lock her up,
Lock her up where the Courtiers may not see her,
Lock her up closely, sirrha, in my closet.

Ser.
I will (my Lord) what does she yeeld yet?

Exit.
Otr.
Peace:
She is either a damnd divel, or an Angel,
No noise (upon your life Dame) but all silence.

Enter King, Lords, Vertigo, Lisauro, Terso.
Otr.
Your Majesty heaps too much honour on me,
With such delight to view each several corner
Of a rude pile: there's no proportion in't, Sir.

Phil.
Me-thinks 'tis hansom, and the rooms along
Are neat, and well contriv'd: the Gallery
Stands pleasantly and sweet: what rooms are these?

Otr.
They are sluttish ones.

Phil.
Nay, I must see.

Otr.
Pray ye do Sir,
They are lodging-chambers over a homely garden.

Phil.
Fit still, and hansom; very well: and those?

Otr.
Those lead to the other side o'th' house, and't like ye.

Phil.
Let me see those.

Otr.
Ye may, the dores are open.
What should this view mean? I am half suspicious.

Phil.
This little Room?

Otr.
Tis meant a place for trash Sir,
For rubbish of the house.

Phil.
I would see this too:
I will see all.

Otr.
I beseech your Majesty,
The savour of it, and the course appearance.

Phil.
'Tis not so bad, you would not offend your house with it,
Come, let me see.

Otr.
Faith Sir,

Phil.
I'faith I will see.

Otr.
My Groom has the key Sir, and 'tis ten to one

Phil.
But I will see it: force the lock (my Lords)
There be smithes enough to mend it: I perceive
You keep some rare things here, you would not show Sir.

Florimell discovered.
Ter.
Here's a fair maid indeed.

Phil.
By my faith is she
A hansom girle: come forward, do not fear wench.
I marry, here's a treasure worth concealing:
Call in the Miller.

Otr.
Then I am discovered.
I confesse all before the Miller comes Sir,
'Twas but intention, from all act I am cleer yet.

Enter Franio.
Phil.
Is this your daughter?

Fra.
Yes, and 't please your Highnesse.
This is the shape of her, for her substance Sir,
Whether she be now honourable or dishonourable:
Whether she be a white-rose, or a canker, is the question:
I thank my Lord, he made bold with my Philly,
If she be for your pace, you had best preserve her Sir,
She is tender mouthed, let her be broken hansomly.
Maid, were you stolne?

Flo.
I went not willingly,
And 't please your Grace, I was never bred so boldly.

Phil.
How has he us'd ye?

Flo.
Yet Sir, very nobly.

Phil.
Be sure ye tell truth, and be sure (my Lord)
You have not wrongd her: if ye have, I tell ye
You have lost me, and your self too: speak again (wench)

Flo.
He has not wrong'd me, Sir; I am yet a maid:
By all that's white and innocent, I am Sir,
Onely I sufferd under strong temptations
The heat of youth; but heaven deliverd me.
My Lord, I am no whore, for all I faign'd it,
And faign'd it cunningly, and made ye loath me:
'Twas time to out-do you: I had been robd else,
I had been miserable, but I forgive ye.

Phil.
What recompence for this?

Otr.
A great one Sir,
First a repentance, and a hearty one.
Forgive me Sweet.

Flo.
I do my Lord.

Otr.
I thank ye;
The next take this, and these: all I have Florimell.

Flo.
No good my Lord, these often corrupt maidens:
I dare not touch at these; they are lime for Virgins;
But if you'll give me.

Otr.
Any thing in my power.
Or in my purchase.

Flo.
Take heed (noble Sir)
You'll make me a bold asker.

Otr.
Aske me freely.

Flo.
Ask you? I do ask you, and I deserve ye,
I have kept ye from a crying sin would damne ye
To Men and Time: I have preserv'd your credit,
That would have died to all posterity:
Curses of maids shall never now afflict ye,
Nor Parents bitter tears make your name barren:
If he deserves well that redeems his Countrey,
And as a Patriot be remembred nobly,
Nay, set the highest: may not I be worthy
To be your friend, that have preservd your honor?

Otr.
You are, and thus I take ye: thus I seal ye
Mine owne, and onely mine.

Phil.
Count, she deserves ye,
And let it be my happines to give ye,
I have given a vertuous maid, now I dare say it,
'Tis more then blood; I'll pay her portion Sir,
And't shall be worthy you.

Fra.
I'll sell my Mill,
I'll pay some too: I'll pay the Fidlers,
And we'll have all i'th' Country at this wedding,
Pray let me give her too, here my Lord take her,
Take her with all my heart, and kisse her freely,
Would I could give you all this hand has stolne too,
In portion with her, 'twould make her a little whiter.
The wind blows fair now, get me a young Miller.

Ver.
Shee must have new clothes.

Tir.
Yes.

Ver.
Yes marry must she.
If't please ye (Madam) let me see the state of you body.
I'll fit you instantly.

Phil.
Art not thou gone yet?

Ver.
And't please your Grace, a gown, a handsome gown now,
An orient gown.

Phil.
Nay, take thy pleasure of her.

Ver.
Of cloth of Tissew I can fit ye (Madam)
My Lords, stand out o'th' light, a curious body,
The neatest body in Spain this day: wt h embroidred flowrs,
A clinquant Petticoat of some rich stuffe,
To catch the eye: I have a thousand fashions.
O sleeve, O sleeve: I'll study all night (Madam)
To magnifie your sleeve.

Otr.
Do, superstitious Tailor,
When yee have more time.

Flo.
Make me no more then woman,
And I am thine.

Otr.
Sir, haply my Wardrobe with your help
May fit her instantly: will you try her?

Ver.
If I fit her not, your Wardrobe cannot.
But if the fashion be not there, you marre her.

Enter Antonio, Constable, Officers.
Ant.
Is my offence so great, ere I be convict,
To be torn with Rascals? If it be Law,
Let 'm be wild horses, rather then these.

Phil.
What's that?

Con.
This is a man suspected of murder, if it please your Grace.

Phil.
It pleases me not (friend). But who suspects him?

Const.
We that are your Highnes extraordinary officers,
We that have taken our oaths to maintain you in peace.

Phil.
'Twill be a great charge to you.

Const.

'Tis a great charge indeed; but then we call our
neighbours to help us. This Gentleman and another were
fallen out (yet that's more then I am able to say, for I heard
no words between 'em, but what their weapons spoke,
Clash, and Clatter) which we seeing, came with our Bils
of government, and first knock'd down their weapons,
and then the men.

Phil.

And this you did to keep the peace?

Const.

Yes, and 't like your Grace, we knock'd 'em down
to keep the peace: this we laid hold on, the other we set
in the stocks. That I could do by mine own power, without
your Majestie.

Enter Aminta.
Phil.
How so, Sir?

Const.
I am a Shoo-maker by my Trade.

Am.
Oh my husband!
Why stands my husband as a man endanger'd?
Restore him me, as you are mercifull,
I'll answer for him.

Ant.
What woman's this? what husband? hold thy bawling,
I know thee for no wife.

Am.
You married me last night.

Ant.
Thou lyest: I neither was in Church nor house
Last night, nor saw I thee: a thing that was my friend,
I scorne to name now, was with Ismenia,
Like a thief, and there he violated
A sacred trust. This thou maist know (Aminta).

Am.
Are not you hee?

Ant.
No; nor a friend of his:
Would I had kill'd him: I hope I have.

Am.
That was my husband (Royall Sir) that man,
That excellent man.

Enter Bellides.
Ant.
That villain; that theefe.

Bel.
Have I caught you Sir? well overtaken.
This is mine enemie: pardon (my Soveraigne).

Phil.
Good charitie, to crave pardon for your enemie.

Bel.
Mine own pardon (Sir) for my joyes rudenesse:
In what place better could I meet my foe,
And both of us so well provided too?
Hee with some black blood-thirstie crime upon him,
That (ere the horse-leech burst) will suck him dry:
I with a second accusation,
Enough to break his neck, if need should be,
And then to have even Justice self to right us:
How should I make my joyes a little civill,
They might not keep this noyse?

Ant.
Here is some hope.
Should the ax be dull, the halter's preparing.

Phil.
What's your accusation, Sir? We have heard the former.

Enter Julio.
Bel.
Mine (My Lord)? a strong one.

Jul.
A false one, Sir.
At least malicious: an evidence
Of hatred and despight: He would accuse
My poor kinsman of that he never dream'd of,
Nor waking saw; the stealing of his daughter,
She whom, I know, he would not look upon.
Speak Antonio, Didst thou ever see her?

Ant.
Yes Sir, I have seen her.

Bel.
Ah ha, friend Julio.

Jul.
He might, but now? with an unheedfull eye,
An accidentall view, as men see multitudes
That the next day dare not precisely say
They saw that face, or that amongst 'm all,
Didst thou so look on her?

Bel.
Guilty, guilty:
His looks hang themselves.

Phil.
Your patience (Gentleman).
I pray you tell me if I be in errour,
I may speak often when I should but hear:
This is some Show you would present us with,
And I do interrupt it: Pray you speak,
(It seems no more) Is 't anything but a Show?

Bel.
My Lord, this Gentlewoman can show you all,
So could my daughter too, if shee were here;
By this time they are both immodest enough:
Shee's fled me, and I accuse this thief for't.
Don Martin, his own friend 's my testimony:
A practis'd night-work.

Phil.
That Martin's the other
In your custodie; he was forgotten:
Fetch him hither.

Const.
Wee'll bring the Stocks and all else, and't please your Grace.

Enter Bustofa and Ismenia.
Am.
That man's my husband certain, instead of this:
Both would have deceiv'd, and both beguil'd.

Bust.

Soh hoh, Miller, Miller, look out Miller: is there
nere a Miller amongst you here, Gentlemen?

Tir.
Yes Sir, here is a Miller amongst Gentlemen,
A Gentleman Miller.

Bust.

I should not be far off then; there went but a
pair of sheers and a bodkin between us. Will you to work
Miller? Here's a maid has a sack full of newes for you:
shall your stones walk? will you grind Miller?

Phil.
This your son, Franio?

Fra.
My ungratious, my disobedient,
My unnaturall, my rebell son (my Lord).

Bust.
Fie, your hopper runs over, Miller.

Fra.
This villain (of my own flesh & blood) was accessary
To the stealing of my daughter.

Bust.
Oh mountain,
Shalt thou call a molehill a scab upon the face
Of the earth? Though a man be a thief, shall a Miller call
Him so? Oh egregious!

Jul.
Remember Sirha, who you speak before.

Bust.
I speak before a Miller,
A thief in grain; for he steals corn: He that steals
A wench, is a true man to him.

Phil.

Can you prove that? you may help another cause
that was in pleading.

Bust.
I'll prove it strongly.
He that steals corn, steals the bread of the Cōmon-wealth;
He that steals a wench, steals but the flesh.

Phil.
And how is the bread stealing more criminall then the flesh?

Bust.
Hee that steals bread, steals that which is lawfull every day:
He that steals flesh, steals nothing from the fasting day:
Ergo, To steal the bread is the arranter theft.

Phil.
This is to some purpose.

Bust.
Again, He that steals flesh, steals for his own belly full:
He that steals bread, robs the guts of others:
Ergo, The arranter theef the bread-stealer.

Again, He that steals flesh, steals once, and gives over; yes,
and often payes for it: the other steals every day, without
satisfaction. To conclude, Bread-stealing is the more capitall
crime: for what he steals hee puts it in at the head:
hee that steals flesh (as the Dutch Author sayes) puts it in
at the foot, (the lower member.) Will you go as you are
now, Miller?

Phil.
How has this satisfied you, Don Bellides?

Bel.
Nothing (my Lord,) my cause is serious.
I claim a daughter from that loving theefe there.

Ant.
I would I had her for you, Sir.

Bel.
Ah ha, Julio.

Jul.
How said you (Antonio)? Wish you you had his daughter?

Ant.
With my soul I wish her; and my body
Shall perish, but I'll enjoy my souls wish.
I would have slain my friend for his deceit,
But I do find his own deceit hath paid him.

Jul.
Will you vex my soul forth? no other choice
But where my hate is rooted? Come hither Girl,
Whose pretty maid art thou?

Ism.
The child of a poor man, Sir.

Jul.
The better for it. With my Soveraigns leave,
I'll wed thee to this man, will hee, nill he.

Phil.
Pardon me, Sir, I'll be no Love enforcer:
I use no power of mine unto those ends.

Jul.
Wilt thou have him?

Ism.
Not unlesse he love me.

Ant.
I do love thee: Farewell all other Beauties:
I settle here: You are Ismenia.

Ism.
The same I was: better nor worse (Antonio)

Ant.
I shall have your consent here, I'm sure, Sir.

Bel.
With all my heart, Sir. Nay, if you accept it,
I'll do this kindnesse to mine enemie,
And give her as a Father.

Ant.
Shee'll thank you as a Daughter.
Will you not, Ismenia?

Bel.
How? Ismenia?

Ism.
Your daughter, Sir.

Bel.
ssiPoble? Away you feeble witted things,
You thought you had caught the old ones: You wade, you wade
In shallow fords: Wee can swim, we: look here,
We made the match: we are all friends, good friends;
Thin, thin: why the fool knew all this, this fool.

Bust.

Keep that to your self, Sir; What I knew I knew:
This Sack is a witnesse. Miller, this is not for your thumming.
Here's gold lace: you may see her in her holliday
clothes if you will; I was her ward-robe-man.

Enter Martin, Aminta, Constable, Officers.
Ant.
You beguil'd me well, Sir.

Mar.
Did you speak to me, Sir?

Ant.
It might seem to you (Martin), your conscience
Has quick ears.

Mar.
My sight was a little dim i'th' dark, indeed,
So was my feeling cozen'd; yet I'm content:
I am the better understander now,
I know my wife wants nothing of a woman;
There y'are my Junior.

Ant.
You are not hurt?

Mar.
Not shrewdly hurt; I have good flesh to heal, you see,
Good round flesh: these cherries wil be worth chopping,
Crack stones and all; I should not give much to boot
To ride in your new, and you in my old ones now.

Ant.
You mistake the weapon: are you not hurt?

Mar.
A little scratch: but I shal claw it off wel enough.

Enter Gillian.
Gill.
I can no longer own what is not mine
With a free conscience: My Liege, your pardon.

Phil.
For what? Who knows this woman?

Fra.
I best (my Lord),
I have been acquainted with her these fortie Summers,
And as many Winters, were it Spring agen;
She's like the Gout, I can get no cure for her.

Phil.
Oh, your wife, Franio?

Fra.
'Tis oh my wife indeed (my Lord,)
A painfull stitch to my side; would it were pick'd out.

Phil.
Well Sir, your silence.

Bust.

Wil you be older and older every day then other?
the longer you live the older still? Must his Majestie command
your silence ere you'l hold your tongue?

Phil.

Your reprehension runs into the same fault:
Pray Sir, will you be silent.

Bust.

I have told him of this before now (my Liege) but
Age will have his course, and his weaknesses,

Phil.

Good Sir, your forbearance.

Bust.

And his frailties, and his follies (as I may say) that
cannot hold his tongue ere he be bidden.

Phil.

Why Sirha?

Bust.

But I beleeve your Majestie will not be long troubled
with him: I hope that woman has something to
confesse will hang 'em both.

Phil.

Sirha, you'll pull your destinie upon you
If you cease not the sooner.

Bust.

Nay, I have done, my Liege; yet it grieves me that
I should call that man Father, that should be so shamelesse,
that being commanded to hold his tongue.

Phil.
To th'Porters Lodge with him.

Bust.
I thank your Grace, I have a friend there.

Phil.
Speak woman, if any interruption meet thee more,
It shall be punish'd sharply.

Gill.
Good my Liege (I dare not)
Ask you the question why that old man weeps.

Phil.
Who? Count Julio? I observ'd it not.
You hear the question Sir, will you give the cause?

Jul.
Oh my Lord, it hardly will get passage,
It is a sorrow of that greatnesse grown,
'Lesse it dissolve in tears, and come by parcels.

Gill.
I'll help you Sir, in the delivery,
And bring you forth a joy. You lost a daughter.

Jul.
'Twas that recounted thought brought forth these sorrows.

Gill.
Shee's found again. Know you this mantle Sir?

Jul.
Hah?

Gill.
Nay leave your wonder, I'll explain it to you.
This did enwrap your childe (whom ever since
I have call'd mine) when Nurse Amaranta
In a remove from Mora to Corduba
Was seiz'd on by a fierce and hungry Bear,
She was the Ravins prey, as heaven so would,
He with his booty fill'd, forsook the babe:
All this was in my sight: and so long I saw,
Untill the cruell creature left my sight,
At which advantage I adventur'd me
To rescue the sweet Lamb: I did it Sir,
And ever since I have kept back your joy,
And made it mine: but age hath wearied me,
And bids me back restore unto the owner
What I unjustly kept these fourteen yeers.

Jul.
Oh, thou hast ta'n so many yeers from mee,
And made me young, as was her birth-day to me.
Oh (good my Liege) give my joyes a pardon,
I must go powre a blessing on my child,
Which here would be too rude and troublesome.

Exit.
Phil.
Franio, you knew this before.

Bust.
Oh, oh; Item for you Miller.

Fra.
I did (my Liege) I must confesse I did,
And I confesse, I ne'r would have confess'd,
Had not that womans tongue begun to me:
We poor ones love, and would have comforts, Sir,
As well as great: this is no strange fault, Sir,
There's many men keep other mens children
As though they were their own.

Bust.

It may stretch farther yet, I beseech you (my
Liege) let this woman be a little farther examin'd; let the
words of her conscience be search'd. I would know how
she came by me: I am a lost childe, if I be theirs: though
I have been brought up in a mill, yet I had ever a minde
(me thought) to be a greater man.

Phil.
Shee will resolve you sure.

Gill.
I, I Boy: thou art mine own flesh and blood,
Born of mine own body.

Bust.

'Tis very unlikely that such a body should bear me;
There's no trust in these millers. Woman, tell the truth:
my father shall forgive thee, whatsoever he was, were hee
Knight, Squire, or Captain; lesse he should not be.

Gill.

Thou art mine own child, Boy.

Bust.

And was the Miller my Father?

Gill.

Wouldst thou make thy mother a whore, Knave?

Bust.

I, if she make me a Bastard. The rack must make
her confesse (my Lord) I shall never come to know who
I am else. I have a worshipfull mind in mee sure: mee
thinks I do scorn poor folks.

Enter Otrante, Florimell and Julio, &c.
Phil.
Here comes the brightest glory of the day:
Love yoak'd with love, the best equality,
Without the levell of estate or person.

Jul.
You both shall be rewarded bountifully,
Wee'll be a-kin too; Brother and Sister
shall be chang'd with us ever.

Bust.

Thank you (Unkle) my sister is my cosen yet at
the last cast: Farewell sister foster. If I had known the
Civill law would have allowed it, thou hadst had another
manner of husband then thou hast: but much good doe
thee; I'll dance at thy wedding, kisse the Bride, and so.

Jul.
Why, how now sirha?

Bust.

Fra.
A knavish Brother of yours (my Lord).

Bust.
would I were acquainted with your Tailor (Noble Brother).

Otr.
You may, there he is: mine, newly entertain'd.

Ver.
If you have any work for me, I can fit you Sir,
I fitted the Lady.

Bust.
My Sister (Tailor,) what fits her wil hardly fit me.

Ver.
Who fits her may fit you Sir, the Tailor can do both.

Bust.
You have a true yard (Tailor.)

Ver.
Ne'r a whit too long, I warrant you.

Bust.
Then (Tailor) march with me away,
I scorn these robes, I must be gay,
My Noble Brother, he shall pay
Tom Tailor.

Exeunt.
Phil.
Your recovered friendships are sound, Gentlemen?

Bel.
At heart, at heart (my Lord) the worm shall not
Beyond many ages find a breach to enter at.

Phil.
These Lovers unities I will not doubt of:
How happy have you made our Progresse then,
To be the witnesse of such fair Accords?
Come, now we'll eat with you (my Lord Otrante,)
'Tis a charge sav'd: You must not grudge your guest,
'Tis both my Welcome, and your Wedding-Feast.

Exeunt.