DORILUS

Most excellent of Women, that you are worthy All that your Hope's can lodge in you, I grant: But Fortune and the Graces were at ods When you were got, else you had been made As great as Dignity can make a Woman. But yet you know (I pray forgive my plainness) That in Estate you donnot equal me, If that were it I looked at. Why you mistake me, if you think I weep. Something has touched my eye, that do's offend it. Not so good Shuttlecock, your pointed wit stabs desperately at all times. Look you, it's thus: If you can love me, fair one, so; if not— Yes. I cry you mercy. How Sir? You spoke something Like comfort, Sir. You are a welcome man, pray show how. Prithee away. I will pledge you. Now Sir will you speak? You amaze me. Yes very true I find it: but for the cure of this? Would thou Wertenberg gone. What does this fellow talk? Oh that it were so; by my Father's Soul I would be free as that is, and as happy, For I would laugh this Woman from my heart, And she should be no more to me, then her I know not, I would be so much Man, and something more: For I would wish to enjoy her as a Man, Loose her in mind, and find her in my blood, And I do feel such turnings in my thoughts. See her, I and speak to her, and call her Woman, There were no Treason in't, were it? Good; then let us go: for what I'll do till I come there, I know not, or if I did, I would not ut ter it. Nay I will have speech with her, & tell her roundly How she ha played the Murdresse with a man That would have died most willingly for her. No, but somewhat vehement. I donnot come to task you to your word, But to behold the Riches I have lost, That must confess my self unworthy of you. Hither I came resolved, to let you know That I durst look upon you, and could loose you Without sighs or tear: but having seen you, You have afresh kindled the fire again, And I must die a Martyr in your love. If those had not been witnesses sufficient, Why did you not enjoin me to a Task, Harder then ever Cruelty did yet? You should have said; I dare thee Dorilus To die: or do but say so yet, That I may be assured you can love Dorilus dead, whom living you despised, And I will at your feet yield my latest breath. Let it be dangerous, and it's the better, And I shall easilier accomplish it. Pray speak it. A Garland of all Flowers? This is a Task indeed. But it is nothing, when the Prize is thought of that it shall purchase. I believe you: Fair farewell. How do you Sir? you appear to me more troubled then my self. I must go travail. To gather Flowers, Strawberries— I was a telling you: She has enjoined me to bring her a fair Garland, of all Flowers that can be named, which must continue fresh as long as I remain constant to her. This is her imposition. I thought you Sir of more humanity, And better breeding, then to mock misery. All, and become in debt to pay that Man. Better then three hundred pound a year. Without those wise Considerations, You instantly shall have it made to you, Not in words only, but in deeds, If you perform what you propose to me. Most joyfully, and with what speed you please. Duty ha taught me, though you were not her Fortune ha made you: Every thing delights To be commanded by you; under your wish Lies all things upon Earth, and grows for you, Prospers for your sake, strives to be lovely, In emulation of your Excellence. Here is a Garland of those Flowers you spoke of, Which Nature put forth, and Art fetched for you; Place it upon your Head, and it shall dim The glorious splendour of your other Crown: Lasting it is, as it; for it shall flourish According to your wishes, till I altar And change the course of my Affection. I shall. I did Sir, and a great one: nor left there, But added two or three to that; the least was, The blasting of this Beauty he adored. How many ways do you desire to kill me? You say the Duke's acquainted— Why do you abuse me thus? What? to enjoy you? He did it then to give us leave to sin, That he might punish. What do we then contriving Lust together? That Rebel Blood, which rages against him, Had better been bestowed upon rude Beasts, Wilder then Wolves or Tigers; we are worse: They that would wrong this truly Royal Prince, This Prince of his own Passion, as of Men, Deserve to see no day, to taste no food, No clothes to shield him from the rage of winter, But live more wretched then the last of Beggars, Die without tears or prayers, and want a graven. Take your vows back again, and place them better, For here I make a general release Of all debts betwixt us, be a free woman, And set up anew, with caution, that you never Prove banker-out again, deal not so largely, Nor trust so prodigally, lest you do meet With such as will take the full forfeiture; So Virtue guard you and your goodness Crown, Your thoughts and actions with true chastity. Yes, very gracious. No more. Hear me first. Because you may not spread a Calumny, Which when you're not your self, Wine may bring forth: Here I protest by all that's Righteous, Both in Earth and Heaven, though I had bought And paid for this Sin as your self can witness, And might have purchased it (but with her Curses) I gave her Vows back freely to her self, Made her the same Duchess that she was, And is still absolute. Freely: and had my Life been in the Bargain, It had gone, And Wife and Children, If I had been worth them—Oh you donnot know, And it is tedious to relate it to you. Pray stay Sir, and make me not so wretched As leave that ugly sin Ingratitude For my Companion: I may through your friendship Think this life happy, to score age upon me, And die, with Stories of you to my children. Bernard my friend, and chamber-fellow. Oh, your zeal Sir hath been ever shown, Why here man, I am here. Yes. Why? I see thee plain as I did before, And every thing else. Why sister I am well? next under Heaven I praise this Gentleman. Here sister joust before you. Yes, in the very mouth of you, as a man would say Trust me I'm glad of it, I'll talk the bolder and and the louder, they shall hear me. Stay. Stay I say. Hear me you ministers of Justice, And thou Patron of it and Truth, That comes to you for succour, and for safety. The All preserver that guards Innocence, And often lets it pine, but never perish, Can raise a voice from stones, or trees, or winds, To plead the cause that neds no Eloquence. What hath this Lady done that here you bring her Unto a Bar of shame? It is't for being virtuous, Because she hath been constant to her Lord: But some have called her chastity in question, That never had a spark in their own Breasts, And have possessed the Duke from his own thoughts, That she must needs be bade because they are so. Has every woman so much wit to hide That fault especially? and had not she, Who is the mirror of of her sex for that, More then for Beauty? But she told the Duke She had offended in and idle promise, And that's objected to her for a crime; A piece of impudence unparalleled. When had she meant to have wronged her royal Lord, She would have locked the secret in her heart, And set her face with smiles, beaten with kisses Suspicion from his bosom; but she discovered The guist, the giver, and the vow that bought it. Who is't not knows, dishonesty consisteth In the deed done, not in the spoken word? And she imagining the deed in which She employed the doer, never to be done, And so the wickedness. Let me not be thought tedious Nor be offensive, if I bring to mind The meeting of those two, how she revealed, That you great Duke consented to the fact, Encouraged her to't, and led her on, If she had been a villain to her death. But he looking on her, and seeing in her eyes, The image of fair Virtue how it wept, Gave back her vows, and freed her from his heart, In that shape first she stood, but again placed her As his most roy all mistress, and your wife. It hath been still a maxim, she's not chased That hath not been attempted, but she who hath stood Temptation, and resisted. Gold is the purer For being tried; and Virtue put in act, Appears more glorious, when it hath wrought it self Out of those troubles which would stifle it. Heaven was assaulted by the Giants once, Which showed Jove's pour the greater: the pensive soul Fighting with sin, the devil, and with death, After the victory, triumphs and sings Eternally amongst the blessed Angels, Crowned with perpetual Peace and happiness: But she for being virtuous must die, For conquering her affections, for loving Sincerely, and effectually, her Lord; For having not the cunning to dissemble, But for being Simple, Chaste, and Innocent, Just, Noble, Beauteous, Excellent in all, Save what no common woman would have missed. For this, and for this only she must die. Now talking with you, plucking off this glove, It fell out of my hand. How? let it alone. Farewell my Lord. Here's my sister, but very sad me thinks: How now Julia, why so disconsolate. Have you then placed your heart on any man What is he? I praised! Julia you wrong me. Name him. Nay Sister, once you are catched. Prithee keep off.