_Zen._ Will your Ladyship wear this Dressing? _Hip._ Leave thy prating: I care not what I wear. _Zen._ Yet 'tis my duty To know your pleasure, and my worst affliction To see you discontented. _Hip._ Weeping too? Prethee forgive me: I am much distemper'd, And speak I know not what: to make thee amends The Gown that I wore yesterday, is thine; Let it alone awhile. _Leo._ Now you perceive, And taste her bounty. _Zen._ Much above my merit. _Leo._ But have you not yet found a happy time To move for me. _Zen._ I have watched all occasions, But hitherto, without success: yet doubt not But I'le embrace the first means. _Leo._ Do, and prosper: Excellent creature, whose perfections make Even sorrow lovely, if your frowns thus take me, What would your smiles doe? _Hip._ Pox o' this stale Courtship: If I have any power. _Leo._ I am commanded, Obedience is the Lovers sacrifice Which I pay gladly. _Hip._ To be forc'd to wooe, Being a woman, could not but torment me, But bringing for my advocates, youth and beauty, Set off with wealth, and then to be deni'd too Do's comprehend all tortures. They flatter'd me, That said my looks were charms, my touches fetters, My locks soft chains, to bind the arms of Princes, And make them in that wish'd for bondage, happy. I am like others of a coarser feature, As weak to allure, but in my dotage, stronger: I am no _Circe_; he, more than _Ulysses_, Scorns all my offer'd bounties, slights my favours, And, as I were some new Egyptian, flyes me, Leaving no pawn, but my own shame behind him. But he shall finde, that in my fell revenge, I am a woman: one that never pardons The rude contemner of her proffered sweetness. _Enter_ Zabulon. _Zab._ Madam, 'tis done. _Hip._ What's done? _Zab._ The uncivill stranger Is at your suite arrested. _Hip._ 'Tis well handled. _Zab._ And under guard sent to the Governour, With whom my testimony, and the favour He bears your Ladiship, have so prevail'd That he is sentenc'd. _Hip._ How? _Zab._ To lose his head. _Hip._ Is that the means to quench the scorching heat Of my inrag'd desires? must innocence suffer, 'Cause I am faulty? or is my Love so fatall That of necessity it must destroy The object it most longs for? dull _Hippolyta_, To think that injuries could make way for love, When courtesies were despis'd: that by his death Thou shouldst gain that, which only thou canst hope for While he is living: My honour's at the stake now, And cannot be preserv'd, unless he perish, The enjoying of the thing I love, I ever Have priz'd above my fame: why doubt I now then? One only way is left me, to redeem all: Make ready my Caroch. _Leo._ What will you Madam? _Hip._ And yet I am impatient of such stay: Bind up my hair: fye, fye, while that is doing The Law may seise his life: thus as I am then, Not like _Hippolyta_, but a _Bacchanal_ My frantique Love transports me. [_Exit._ _Leo._ Sure she's distracted.