_Zab._ Taking the fresh air, In the company of the Governour, and Count _Clodio_, _Arnoldo_ too, was present with her Father, When, in a moment (so the servants told me) As she was giving thanks to the Governour, And _Clodio_, for her unexpected freedom, As if she had been blasted, she sunk down, To their amazement. _Hip._ 'Tis thy master-piece Which I will so reward, that thou shalt fix here, And with the hazard of thy life, no more Make tryal of thy powerful Art; which known Our Laws call death: off with this Magical Robe, And be thy self. _Enter_ Governour, Clodio, _and_ Charino. _Sulp._ Stand close, you shall hear more. _Man._ You must have patience; all rage is vain now, And piety forbids, that we should question What is decreed above, or ask a reason Why heaven determines this or that way of us. _Clod._ Heaven has no hand in't; 'tis a work of hell. Her life hath been so innocent, all her actions So free from the suspicion of crime, As rather she deserves a Saints place here, Than to endure, what now her sweetness suffers. _Char._ Not for her fault, but mine Sir, _Zenocia_ suffers: The sin I made, when I sought to rase down _Arnoldo's_ love, built on a Rock of truth, Now to the height is punish'd. I profess, Had he no birth, nor parts, the present sorrow He now expresses for her, does deserve her Above all Kings, though such had been his rivals. _Clod._ All ancient stories, of the love of Husbands To vertuous Wives, be now no more remembred. _Char._ The tales of _Turtles_, ever be forgotten, Or, for his sake believ'd. _Man._ I have heard, there has been Between some married pairs, such sympathy, That th' Husband has felt really the throws His Wife then teeming suffers, this true grief Confirms, 'tis not impossible. _Clod._ We shall find Fit time for this hereafter; let's use now All possible means to help her. _Man._ Care, nor cost, Nor what Physicians can do, shall be wanting; Make use of any means or men. _Char._ You are noble. [_Exeunt_ Man. Clod, _and_ Char. _Sulp._ Ten Colledges of Doctors shall not save her. Her fate is in your hand. _Hip._ Can I restore her? _Sulp._ If you command my Art. _Hip._ I'le dye my self first. And yet I'le go visit her, and see This miracle of sorrow in _Arnoldo_: And 'twere for me, I should change places with her, And dye most happy, such a lovers tears Were a rich monument, but too good for her, Whose misery I glory in: come _Sulpitia_, You shall along with me, good _Zabulon_ Be not far off. _Zab._ I will attend you Madam. [_Exeunt._ _Enter_ Duarte, _and a_ Servant. _Ser._ I have serv'd you from my youth, and ever You have found me faithful: that you live's a treasure I'le lock up here; nor shall it be let forth, But when you give me warrant. _Dua._ I rely Upon thy faith; nay, no more protestations, Too many of them will call that in question, Which now I doubt not: she is there?