Oh then speak thou fairest fair,
     Kill not him that vows to serve thee,
     But perfume this neighbouring Air;
     Else dull silence sure will starve me: 
       ’Tis a word that’s quickly spoken,
       Which being restrained a heart is broken.

     Enter Amaranta.

     Amar.

     He keeps very close:  Lord, how I long to see him! 
     A Lute strook handsomely, a voice too; I’le hear that: 
     These Verses are no Law, they sound too sweetly,
     Now I am more desirous.

     [Leandro peeping.

     Lean.

     ’Tis she certain.

     Amar.

     What’s that that peeps?

     Lean.

     O admirable face!

     Amar.

     Sure ’tis the man.

     Lean.

     I will go out a little.

     Amar.

     He looks not like a fool, his face is noble: 
     How still he stands!

     Lean.

     I am strucken dumb with wonder,
     Sure all the Excellence of Earth dwells here.

Amar.

How pale he looks! yet, how his eyes like torches,
Fling their beams round:  how manly his face shews! 
He comes on:  surely he will speak:  he is made most handsomly: 
This is no Clerk behaviour; now I have seen ye,
I’le take my time:  Husband, ye have brought home tinder.

[Exit.

Lean.

Sure she has transform’d me,
I had forgot my tongue clean,
I never saw a face yet, but this rare one,
But I was able boldly to encounter it,
And speak my mind, my lips were lockt up here. 
This is divine, and only serv’d with reverence;
O most fair cover of a hand far fairer,
Thou blessed Innocence, that guards that whiteness,
Live next my heart.  I am glad I have got a relick,

[A noise within]

A relick when I pray to it, may work wonders. 
Hark, there’s some noise:  I must retire again. 
This blessed Apparition makes me happy;
I’le suffer, and I’le sacrifice my substance,
But I’le enjoy:  now softly to my Kennel.

[Exit.

Actus Tertius.  Scena Prima.

Enter Henrique, and Bartolus.

Hen.

     You know my cause sufficiently?

     Bar.

     I do Sir.

     Hen.

      And though it will impair my honesty,
     And strike deep at my Credit, yet, my Bartolus,
     There being no other evasion left to free me
     From the vexation of my spightful Brother,
     That most insultingly raigns over me,
     I must and will go forward.

     Bar.