_Pem_. Had not that Lady then an yron heart, A rude ingratefull mind, a savadge spirit, That knew this vertuous honourable Knight, This gracious shape and unmatchd excellence, To be intangled with her fervent love, To serve her in all loyalty of heart, To reverence and adore her very name, To be content to kisse the lowly earth Where she did set her foot; and when he sued For grace, to scorne him, to deride his sighes, And hold his teares and torment in contempt? Of all that ever liv'd deserv'd she not The worlds reproch and times perpetuall blot? _Kath_. Heard you him ever speak of such a one? _Pem_. Oft times, but chiefly then when he perceyv'd His hurt was mortall and no way but death, At every grone he cald upon her name As if that sound were present remedy; And when insulting death drew short his breath And now was ready to close up his eyes, Farewell, quoth he, where e're I find a shrine My soule fly thou to beautious Katharine. _Kath_. That ruthlesse mind, that iron savage heart, So greatly loved and so little loving, Breathes in this brest; 'twas I returnd disdaine For deepe affection, scorne for loyalty, And now compassionlesse shall pine my selfe. Oh, Ferdinand, forgive me, Ferdinand: Injoyne me any penance for that wrong, Say I shall tread a tedious pilgrimage To furtherest Palestine, and I will do it. But peace, fond woman! these exclaimes are vaine: Thy Ferdinand is dead and cannot heare, As thou wast sometimes deafe and wouldst not heare. _Pem_. A just reward.--Come, Madam, have you done? Give me the picture I may hang it up. _Kath_. Oh take it not away: since I have lost The substance, suffer me to keep the shaddow. Me thinks, so long as this is in my hand, I claspe my Ferdinand between mine armes; So long as I behold this lively forme, So long am I refreshed by his smiles, So long, me thinks, I heare him speak to me. Knew I the Paynter drew this counterfeyt I would reward him with a mynt of gold. _Pem_. If such a pleasure you receyve by this, I tell you, Madam, I shall shortly have His whole proportion cut in Alabaster, Armd as he was when he encountred here, Which kneeling shall be set upon his tombe. _Kath_. On that condition I will gather flowers And once a day come straw them at his feet, And once a day pay tribute of choyce thanks To you the furtherer of my happinesse: Till then I place the picture where it was. _Enter Clowne and Bellamira_. _Clow_. Come on, Madam; me thinks now a maske would do well. But I perceyve your drift, I smell your policy; you think a bold face hath no need of a black mask. Shall I tell you what you look like? A broyld herring or a tortur'de Image made of playster worke. _Bel_. So, sirra, you may scoffe my misery. _Pem_. Still haunted with these women! are men vanisht? Or what occasion leaves the Realme of Fraunce So voyd and empty of adventurous knights?