_Bur._ You will not find it, Upon my troth I think his most ambition Is but to let the world know h'as a handsom Mistris: Will your grace command me any service to him? _Olym._ Remember all my duty. _Bur._ Blessings crown ye: What's your will Lady? _Al._ Any thing that's honest; And if you think it fit, so poor a service, Clad in a ragged vertue, may reach him, I do beseech your Lordship speak it humbly. _Bur._ Fair one I will: in the best phrase I have too, And so I kiss your hand. [_Exit._ _Al._ Your Lordships Servant. _Olym._ Come hither wench, what art thou doing with that Ring? _Al._ I am looking on the posie, Madam. _Olym._ What is't? _Al._ The Jewel's set within. _Olym._ But where the joy wench, When that invisible Jewel's lost? why dost thou smile so? What unhappy meaning hast thou? _Al._. Nothing Madam, But only thinking what strange spells these Rings have, And how they work with some. _Pet._ I fear with you too. _Al._ This could not cost above a Crown. _Pet._ 'Twill cost you The shaving of your crown, if not the washing. _Olym._ But he that sent it, makes the vertue greater; _Al._ I and the vice too Madam: goodness bless me: How fit 'tis for my finger! _2 W._ No doubt you'l find too A finger fit for you. _Al._ Sirrah, _Petesca_, What wilt thou give me for the good that follows this? But thou hast Rings enough, thou art provided: Heigh ho, what must I doe now? _Pet._ You'l be taught that, The easiest part that e're you learn't, I warrant you. _Al._ Ay me, ay me. _Pet._ You will divide too, shortly, Your voice comes finely forward. _Olym._ Come hither wanton, Thou art not surely as thou saist. _Al._ I would not: But sure there is a witchcraft in this Ring, Lady, Lord how my heart leaps! _Pet._ 'Twill goe pit a pat shortly. _Al._ And now methinks a thousand of the Dukes shapes. _2 W._ Will no less serve ye? _Al._ In ten thousand smiles. _Olym._ Heaven bless the wench. _Al._ With eyes that will not be deni'd to enter; And such soft sweet embraces; take it from me, I am undone else Madam: I'm lost else. _Olym._ What ailes the girle? _Al._ How suddenly I'm alter'd! And grown my self again! do not you feel it? _Olym._ Wear that, and I'le wear this: I'le try the strength on't. _Al._ How cold my bloud grows now! Here's sacred vertue: When I leave to honour this, Every hour to pay a kiss, When each morning I arise, Or I forget a sacrifice: When this figure in my faith, And the pureness that it hath, I pursue not with my will, Nearer to arrive at still: When I lose, or change this Jewel, Flie me faith, and heaven be cruel. _Olym._ You have half confirm'd me, Keep but that way sure, And what this charm can doe, let me endure. [_Exeunt._ SCENA III.