+Ort.+ Nay, then, I had as good Discover, 'twill fall th' heavier on me else. Sir, let the guard stay, And I will tell you all. 'Tis I have sow'd the seeds of this mistake. I long have lov'd Amphelia, for which cause I tried this way to draw her heart from you. I knew this gentleman of your bed-chamber Was in love with Amphelia's woman, Therefore I brib'd her to write to him, To assure the duke that Amphelia lov'd me, And that she should also charge him, to write Another letter to her, wherein he Should complain of the duke's falling in love With another woman in that country. I knew your spirits both to be so great that Neither of you would stoop to one another, When you were both possess'd of either's falseness: And so it prov'd. For when the duke heard you lov'd me, he brought A fair new mistress over with him, to Let you see he did contemn you; and so Amphelia, sir, when she heard you lov'd Another, assur'd me then that she lov'd me, Which now I see was only to make you Think how much she scorn'd you, though still her heart Was true, and so was yours. Now, sir, I humbly beg your pardon. +Duke.+ 'Twill be in vain, my lord; I cannot grant it. O Amphelia, how many hours of joy We two have lost! +Amph.+ Base lord! _Enter +Artabella+._ +Art.+ O sir, I heard that people were to die To-day; let me be one, I pray. +Amph.+ Not for The world, sweet innocent. +Art.+ O madam, you are she The duke loves. Pray spare your pity, sir; can You have the heart to let me live, and see You married to another? +Amph.+ Have patience, Sweet young maid, I will not marry him; you won't Blame me, if I love him, though? +Art.+ No; For then I should condemn my fault in you. +Duke.+ But sure, Amphelia, you did but jest, In telling her you would not marry me? +Amph.+ Indeed, sir, I am in earnest; consider It is but justice; she loves you as well As I: her heart was quiet till you troubled It. +Duke.+ All this is true; but how will your Love show, if you refuse to marry me? +Amph.+ Not less at all, but make my pity more. +Duke.+ If I would marry her, I can't believe, That she would be thus kind to you. +Amph.+ Yes, I dare say she would; ask her and try. +Duke.+ Well, Artabella, will you marry me? +Art.+ You never hated me till now; can you Believe I'd wrong so blest a woman as Amphelia? +Amph.+ See, sir, would it be justice now in me? She will not wound my heart; should I kill hers? +Duke.+ But consider, 'tis you I love, not her. +Amph.+ That's her misfortune, sir, yet she deserves. As much as I: I can but love you, so Does she. +Duke.+ Dear Amphelia, marry me. +Amph.+ I cannot Out of pity, sir.