Assist.

     You are too bold. 
     Speak to the cause Don Henrique.

     Hen.

     I confess,
     (Though the acknowledgment must wound mine honour,)
     That all the Court hath heard touching this Cause,
     (Or with me, or against me) is most true: 
     The later part my Brother urg’d, excepted: 
     For what I now doe, is not out of Spleen
     (As he pretends) but from remorse of conscience
     And to repair the wrong that I have done
     To this poor woman:  And I beseech your Lordship
     To think I have not so far lost my reason,
     To bring into my familie, to succeed me,
     The stranger—­Issue of anothers Bed,
     By proof, this is my Son, I challenge him,
     Accept him, and acknowledge him, and desire
     By a definitive Sentence of the Court,
     He may be so recorded, and full power
     To me, to take him home.

     Jac.

     A second rape
     To the poor remnant of content that’s left me,
     If this be granted:  and all my former wrongs
     Were but beginnings to my miseries,
     But this the height of all:  rather than part
     With my Ascanio, I’le deny my oath,
     Profess my self a Strumpet, and endure
     What punishment soe’re the Court decrees
     Against a wretch that hath forsworn her self,
     Or plai’d the impudent whore.

     Assist.

This tastes of passion, And that must not divert the course of Justice; Don Henrique, take your Son, with this condition You give him maintenance, as becomes his birth, And ’twill stand with your honour to doe something For this wronged woman:  I will compel nothing, But leave it to your will.  Break up the Court:  It is in vain to move me; my doom’s pass’d, And cannot be revok’d.—­

[Exit.

Hen.

There’s your reward.

Bar.

More causes, and such Fees.  Now to my Wife,
I have too long been absent:  Health to your Lordship.

[Exit.

Asc.

You all look strangely, and I fear believe
This unexpected fortune makes me proud,
Indeed it do’s not:  I shall ever pay you
The duty of a son, and honour you
Next to my Father:  good my Lord, for yet
I dare not call you, uncle, be not sad,
I never shall forget those noble favours
You did me being a stranger, and if ever
I live to be the master of a fortune,
You shall command it.

     Jam.

     Since it was determin’d
     I should be cozen’d, I am glad the profit
     Shall fall on thee, I am too tough to melt,
     But something I will do.

     Hen.

’Pray you take leave
Of your steward (gentle Brother) the good husband
That takes up all for you.