_Clod._ 'Tis now offer'd: I have a suit to you, and an easie one, Which e're long you shall know. _Man._ When you think fit Sir, And then as a command I will receive it, Till when, most welcom: you are welcom too Sir, 'Tis spoken from the heart, and therefore needs not Much protestation: at your better leisure I will enquire the cause that brought you hither: In the mean time serve you. _Clod._ You out-doe me Sir. [_Exeunt._ _Actus Quartus. Scena Prima._ _Enter_ Duarte, Doctor. _Dua._ You have bestow'd on me a second life, For which I live your creature, and have better'd What nature fram'd unperfect, my first being Insolent pride made monstrous; but this later In learning me to know my self, hath taught me Not to wrong others. _Doct._ Then we live indeed, When we can goe to rest without alarm Given every minute to a guilt-sick conscience To keep us waking, and rise in the morning Secure in being innocent: but when In the remembrance of our worser actions We ever bear about us whips and furies, To make the day a night of sorrow to us, Even life's a burthen. _Dua._ I have found and felt it; But will endeavour having first made peace With those intestine enemies my rude passions, To be so with man-kind: but worthy Doctor, Pray if you can resolve me; was the Gentleman That left me dead, ere brought unto his tryal? _Doct._ Not known, nor apprehended. _Dua._ That's my grief. _Doct._ Why, do you wish he had been punished? _Dua._ No, The stream of my swoln sorrow runs not that way: For could I find him, as I vow to Heaven It shall be my first care to seek him out, I would with thanks acknowledge that his sword, In opening my veins, which proud bloud poison'd, Gave the first symptoms of true health. _Doct._ 'Tis in you A Christian resolution: that you live Is by the Governours, your Uncles charge As yet conceal'd. And though a sons loss never Was solemniz'd with more tears of true sorrow Than have been paid by your unequal'd Mother For your supposed death, she's not acquainted With your recovery. _Dua._ For some few dayes Pray let her so continue: thus disguis'd I may abroad unknown. _Doct._ Without suspicion Of being discovered. _Dua._ I am confident No moisture sooner dies than womens tears, And therefore though I know my Mother vertuous, Yet being one of that frail sex I purpose Her farther tryal. _Doct._ That as you think fit--I'le not betray you. _Dua._ To find out this stranger This true Physician of my mind and manners Were such a blessing. He seem'd poor, and may Perhaps be now in want; would I could find him. The Innes I'le search first, then the publick Stewes; He was of _Italy_, and that Country breeds not Precisians that way, but hot Libertines; And such the most are: 'tis but a little travail: I am unfurnisht too, pray Mr. Doctor, Can you supply me? _Doct._ With what summ you please. _Dua._ I will not be long absent.