EPIRE. Did he not win thy love, and then reject thee? MAR. His honour, not his love doth now neglect me. EPIRE. Fond maid, thy foolish dotage doth mistake him. MAR. Hell shall have mercy, ere I will forsake him. EPIRE. Farewell then, sister, friend to my greatest foe: Revenge strikes home, being ended with one blow. [_Exit_ EPIRE. MAR. Prevention, thou best midwife to misfortune, Unfold this ugly monster's treachery; And let his birth be ominous--struck dead, Ere it have being in this open world. Love commands nature. Brother, pardon me: Thine envy dies by my love's liberty. Invention, heart of wit, possess my brain, For treason is to treason her own bane. And you, bright heav'ns, now aid me in my plots, That truth may shine through falsehood's leprous spots; My life I'll hazard to redeem my love, Firm constancy like rocks can never move. Be bold then, maiden-heart, in his defence. He saved thy life: thy life's his recompense: My wit and hopes have furnish'd me with all The helps of art to bring forth treason's fall. Now to the means. Some say that gold hath power To enter without force a gateless tower: And I'll try that, which if it take fast hold, I'll never blame them more that doat on gold. Ho! who's within there? _Enter_ JAILER. JAILER. Who calls, what would you have? I thought you were a woman, you were so hasty: O, madam, is it you? I cry you mercy. MAR. My grief speaks loud, sir, and my swift desire O'errules my tongue, makes it keep time with thought; I long to see a prisoner in this ill-built house. JAILER. What prisoner, madam? MAR. The worthy prince, the famous Philocles. JAILER. Madam, I dare not, without especial warrant. MAR. I have my brother's strong commission; hold, there is gold. JAILER. This golden calf is an excellent idol, and few of my profession but serve it: this dumb god gives tongue to all men, wit to all men, honour to any man, but honesty to no man: and therefore as for honesty, I mean not to deal with so dear a commodity, but leave it to my better. Madam, those stairs direct you to his lodging. MAR. I thank you, sir. [_Exit_ MARIANA. JAILER. This is a worthy lady, to give thus much for the bare sight of a man in affliction; if he were at liberty, it were nothing; but being as it is, it is most bountiful: but it may be it is for the past hours of former recreations: well, let it be what it shall be, I am sure it was not that I should hold this disputation: but see, here she comes again. _Enter_ PHILOCLES _in_ MARIANA'S _attire, and_ MARIANA _in his_.