TYR. How comes the moon to change so in this manner. That was in full, but now, of all performance, And swifter than our wishes? I beshrew that virtue, That busied herself with him: she might have found Some other work. The man was fit for me, Before she spoil'd him. She has wrong'd my heart in't, And marr'd me a good workman. Now his art fails him, What makes the man at court? This is no place For fellows of no parts; he lives not here, That puts himself from action, when we need him [_Aside._ I take off all thy honours, and bestow 'em On any of this rank that will deserve 'em. SOPH. My lord, that's I: trouble your grace no further. I'll undertake to bring her to your bed With some ten words. Marry, they're special charms: No lady can withstand 'em--a witch taught me 'em. If you doubt me, I'll leave my wife in pawn For my true loyalty, and your majesty May pass away the time, till I return. I have a care in all things. TYR. That may thrive best, Which the least hope looks after; but, however, Force shall help nature; I'll be so sure now Thy willingness may be fortunate. We employ thee. SOPH. Then I'll go fetch my wife, and take my journey. TYR. Stay! we require no pledge: we think thee honest. SOPH. Troth, the worse luck for me; we had both been made by't; It was the way to make my wife great too. TYR. [_to_ HELVETIUS.] I'll teach thee to be wide and strange to me-- I'll not leave thee A title to put on, but the bare name That man must call thee by, and know thee miserable. HEL. 'Tis miserable, king, to be of thy making, And leave a better workman; if thy honours Only keep life in baseness, take 'em to thee, And give them to the hungry; there's one gapes. SOPH. One that will swallow you, sir, for that jest, And all your titles after. HEL. The devil follow them! There's room enough for him too. Leave me, thou king, As poor as Truth, the mistress I now serve, And never will forsake her for her plainness, That shall not alter me. TYR. No? Our guard within there! _Enter_ GUARD. GUARD. My lord! TYR. Bear that old fellow to our castle, prisoner; Give charge he be kept close. HEL. Close prisoner! Why, my heart thanks thee; I shall have more time And liberty to virtue in one hour, Than all those threescore years I was a courtier. So by imprisonment I sustain great loss; Heav'n opens to that man the world keeps close. [_Exit with_ GUARD. SOPH. But I'll not go to prison to try that, Give me the open world: there's a good air!