Gui. You are just, you Heavens,
And never do forget to hear their prayers,
That truly pay their vows, the defer’d vengeance,
For you, and my words sake so long defer’d,
Under which as a mountain my heart groans yet
When ’twas despair’d of, now is offer’d to me;
And if I lose it, I am both wayes guilty. 
The womans mask, dissimulation help me. 
Come hither friend, I am sure you know the Gentleman,
That sent these charms.

Dua. Charms Lady?

Gui. These charms;
I well may call them so, they’ve won upon me,
More than ere letter did; thou art his friend,
(The confidence he has in thee, confirms it)
And therefore I’le be open breasted to thee;
To hear of him, though yet I never saw him,
Was most desir’d of all men; let me blush,
And then I’le say I love him.

Dua. All men see, In this a womans vertue.

Gui. I expected
For the courtesie I did, long since to have seen him,
And though I then forbad it, you men know,
Between our hearts and tongues there’s a large distance;
But I’le excuse him, may be hitherto
He has forborn it, in respect my Son
Fell by his hand.

Dua. And reason Lady.

Gui. No, he did me a pleasure in’t, a riotous fellow,
And with that insolent, not worth the owning;
I have indeed kept a long solemn sorrow,
For my friends sake partly; but especially
For his long absence.

Dua. O the Devil.

Guio. Therefore
Bid him be speedy; a Priest shall be ready
To tye the holy knot; this kiss I send him,
Deliver that and bring him.

Dua. I am dumb:  A good cause I have now, and a good sword, And something I shall do, I wait upon you. [Exeunt.

Enter Manuel, Charino, Arnoldo, Zenocia, born in a chair. 2 Doctors, Clodio.

Doct. Give her more air, she dyes else.

Arn. O thou dread power,
That mad’st this all, and of thy workmanship
This virgin wife, the Master piece, look down on her;
Let her minds virtues, cloth’d in this fair garment,
That worthily deserves a better name
Than flesh and bloud, now sue, and prevail for her. 
Or if those are denyed, let innocence,
To which all passages in Heaven stand open,
Appear in her white robe, before thy throne;
And mediate for her:  or if this age of sin
Be worthy of a miracle, the Sun
In his diurnal progress never saw
So sweet a subject to imploy it on.

Man. Wonders are ceas’d Sir, we must work by means.

Arno. ’Tis true, and such reverend Physicians are;
To you thus low I fall then; so may you ever
Be stil’d the hands of Heaven, natures restorers;
Get wealth and honours; and by your success,
In all your undertakings, propagate
Your great opinion in the world, as now
You use your saving art; for know good Gentlemen,
Besides the fame, and all that I possess,
For a reward, posterity shall stand
Indebted to you, for (as Heaven forbid it)
Should my Zenocia dye, robbing this age
Of all that’s good or gracefull, times succeeding,
The story of her pure life not yet perfect,
Will suffer in the want of her example.