MILISENT

In compliment with Mr. Rawbone, who is newly entered sir. With your favour sir If you hold no better opinion of this Citizen It puzzles, me why you invite him, to your house And entertainment, he pretending affection to your daughter, Pardon me sir if I seem bold. But he's most Like to scatter poison sir, Your fame is precious, and your family Not mingling with corrupted streams, hath Like And entire River, still maintained his current Chaste, and delightful. Sir command. You are full of noble thoughts. Sir, I shall be ambitions to deserve your favour Withal the duties of a servant, and I doubt not, but your Daughter is so full Of conscience, and care in the conformity Of her desires to your will, I shall Enrich my sighed with observation, And make my intelligence happy. 'Tis Mr. Rawbones squire. So I think, but none of his familiar. Here is his Master sir, and Mistress Jane. Is ac. I cannot promise. Marriage as much joy wait upon the Bride, As the remembrance of it brings me sorrow, A woman has undone me, when I die A Coffin will enclose this misery. Exit. It had been sin That Milisent should suffer you perplex Your noble soul, when it did consist in His discovery, to give a freedom To your labouring thoughts, 'tis now no more a secret, Y ur father makes a trial of your nature, By giving him such countenance. Your virtue hath both unsealed My bosom, and rewarded me. If I have any skill In my own nature, shall never deceive Your confidence, and think my self much honoured, So to be made your treasurer. Can I be worthy of so great a trust? Not I. Would? To both a fervant. He is entered. Your father and Master Lodam — 'Tis his command to whom I owe all service, I should attend you. I should be unhappy To be offensive in my duty; yet Had I no charge upon me, I should much Desire to wait. I know not why, Your sorrow does invite me. I know, it wood not Become my distance, to dispute with you, At what age, we are fittest to receive Our griefs impression. I must, if you will have it so. offers to go out. I am called Milisent. Mine does become my fortune. Yet yours does so exactly paint out misery That he, that wanted of his own, would mourn To see your picture. Mine had no example to be drawn by, I would they were a kin, so I might make Your burden less by mine own suffering. And yet I prophesy, There's something would make mine a partly of yours, Were they examined. You have encouraged me to boldness, pardon My ruder language. Too soon , from thence sprung my unhappiness. My affliction riper then my years, Hath brought me so much sorrow, I do not think That I shall live, to be a man. I shall be too bold. You may command, and when Your stories done, mine shall maintain the Scene. Exeunt. Your pardon Lady, I Did prophesy what now I find, our stories Have dependanc That Marwood Whom you report thus wounded had a near Relation to me, and it my fortune To come to close his eyes up, and receive His last breath. I know more then Beauford, And dying he obliged my love to tell him When ere we met. He did confirm, he had enjoyed your person, And bade me tell Beauford he left behind A living witness of the truth he died for: Naming a Gentlewoman Cardona, That bred you in your father's house, whom he Affirmed, betrayed your body to his lust. W ed he had not been My kinsman, I begin to fear him: My heart mourns for you In the assurance of your innocence, And were I worthy to direct you— Would you be pleased to hear me, I could point You out a path, would bring you no repentance To walk in, if (as I am confident) Your goodness fears not, what Cardona can Accuse your honour with, let her be Examined, the her knowledge will quit you, Or make the r S ffe king appear ju to, this is And easy trial, and since Marwood had A stubborn soul, for though he were y kinsman I prefer justice, and held ham to check His own report, women have softer nature's, And things may be so managed, if there be A treason, to enfo ce confession from her: Would you please t'imploy me in this eruice, And though unworthy be directed by me, I beg it from you, isle engage my being You shall find come word in't. You much honour me. Exeunt. You may disburden there, But gently, 'tis a chest of valve, mistress— I'll give him notice, where is Beauford? What place d'ee call this? It presents horror. Yes. I come to visit you. I did suspect it, and have therefore brought My assurance wo'me, I must require Satisfaction for a kinsmans death, One Marwood. Your valour was not noble, It was a course reward to kill him for His friendship: I come not with a guard of Officers to attach your person, it Were too poor and formal, the instrument That sluice his soul out, I had rather should Sacrifice to his ashes, and my sword Shall do't, or yours be guilty of another, To wait upon his ghost. Make it Not your fear, I have herd the perfect story, And ere I fight with thee shat see thy error; Acknowledge thou hast killed a friend, I bring A perspective to make those things that lie Remote from sense, familiar to thee, nay Thou shat confess thou knowest the truth of what Concerns him, or Gratiana. Thou shat not number many minutes, know `It my misfortune to close up the eyes Of Marwood, whose body I vowed never Should to the earth without revenge; or me Companion to his graven: I would therefore brought it Hither, 'tis in this house. His pale corpses Shall witness my affection. And thus briefly: Marwood revealed at death another witness Of his truth, for Cardona he corrupted To betray Gratiana to him. I would saved ye trouble, She waits without, in your name I procured Her presence, as you had affairs with her She's unprepared, a little terror will Enforce her to confess the truth of all things. Still remember Beauford I am thy lenemy, and in this do but Prepare thy conscience of misdeed to Meet my joust anger. He's now at opportunity. With what unwillingness, we discover things We are ashamed to own: Cardona shouldst Would used but half this fear in thy consent. And thou hadst never been guilty of a sin Thou art so loath to partly with though it be A burden to thy soul: how boldly would Out innocence plead for us; but sha done. Have I made good My promise, do you find your error. Now do me right sir. Reserve your passion, and remember what I come for. You lose Your sell e in these wild fancies; recollect And do me justice. Yes. Ye shall. A coffin brought in. One sorrow's cured Milisent begone, Thou hast been too long absent from thy own. Exit. Would Marwood? O sir proceed not, You do not declare your self of generous birth, Thus openly to accuse a Gentlewoman, Were it a truth. With what? I am not armed You see, but your b g language would not fright My youth, were it be friended with a sword; You should find then I would dare to prove it A falls hood, on your person. Stay sir—