Yonder's the courteous hermit, and with him Albert, it seems. O, see, 'tis Carracus! Joy, do not now confound me! CAR. Thanks unto heavens and thee, thou holy man, I have attain'd what doth adorn man's being, That precious gem of reason, by which solely We are discern'd from rude and brutish beasts, No other difference being 'twixt us and them. How to repay this more than earthly kindness Lies not within my power, but in his, That hath indu'd thee with celestial gifts, To whom I'll pray, he may bestow on thee What thou deserv'st, bless'd immortality. ALB. Which unto you befall, thereof most worthy. But, virtuous sir, what I will now request From your true generous nature is, that you would Be pleas'd to pardon that repentant wight, Whose sinful story upon yon tree's bark Yourself did read, for that you say, to you Those wrongs were done. CAR. Indeed they were, and to a dear wife lost; Yet I forgive him, as I wish the heavens May pardon me. MAR. So doth Maria too. [_She discovers herself._ CAR. Lives my Maria, then? what gracious planet Gave thee safe conduct to these desert woods? MAR. My late mishap (repented now by all, And therefore pardon'd) compell'd me to fly, Where I had perished for want of food, Had not this courteous man awak'd my sense, In which death's self had partly interest. CAR. Alas, Maria! I am so far indebted To him already for the late recovery of My own weakness, that 'tis impossible For us to attribute sufficient thanks For such abundant good. ALB. I rather ought to thank the heaven's Creator That he vouchsaf'd me such especial grace, In doing so small a good; which could I hourly Bestow on all, yet could I not assuage The swelling rancour of my fore-pass'd crimes. CAR. O sir, despair not; for your course of life (Were your sins far more odious than they be) Doth move compassion and pure clemency In the all-ruling judge, whose powerful mercy O'ersways his justice, and extends itself To all repentant minds. He's happier far That sins, and can repent him of his sin, Than the self-justifier, who doth surmise By his own works to gain salvation; Seeming to reach at heaven, he clasps damnation. You then are happy, and our penitent friend, To whose wish'd presence please you now to bring us, That in our gladsome arms we may enfold His much-esteemed person, and forgive The injuries of his rash follies pass'd. ALB. Then see false Albert prostrate at your feet, [_He discovers himself._ Desiring justice for his heinous ill. CAR. Is it you? Albert's self that hath preserv'd us? O bless'd bewailer of thy misery! MARIA. And wofull'st liver in calamity!