_Alin._ I should love you again, and then you would hate me. With all my service I should follow ye, And through all dangers. _Duke._ This would more provoke me, More make me see thy worths, More make me meet 'em. _Alin._ You should do so, if ye did well and truly: But though ye be a Prince, and have power in ye, Power of example too, ye have fail'd and falter'd. _Duke._ Give me example where? _Alin._ You had a Mistris, Oh Heaven, so bright, so brave a dame, so lovely, In all her life so true! _Duke._ A Mistris? _Alin._ That serv'd you with that constancy, that care, That lov'd your will, and woo'd it too. _Duke._ What Mistris? _Alin._ That nurs'd your honour up, held fast your vertue, And when she kist encreas'd, not stole your goodness. _Duke._ And I neglected her? _Alin._ Lost her, forsook her, Wantonly flung her off. _Duke._ What was her name? _Alin._ Her name as lovely as her self, as noble, And in it all that's excellent. _Duke._ What was it? _Alin._ Her name was _Beau-desert_: Do you know her now, Sir? _Duke._ _Beau-desert_? I do not remember-- _Alin._ I know you do not; Yet she has a plainer name; Lord _Archas_ service; Do you yet remember her? there was a Mistris Fairer than Woman, far fonder to you, Sir, Than Mothers to their first-born joyes: Can you love? Dare you profess that truth to me a stranger, A thing of no regard, no name, no lustre, When your most noble love you have neglected, A beauty all the world would woo and honour? Would you have me credit this? think you can love me, And hold ye constant, when I have read this story? Is't possible you should ever favour me, To a slight pleasure prove a friend, and fast too, When, where you were most ty'd, most bound to benefit, Bound by the chains of honesty and honour, You have broke and boldly too? I am a weak one, Arm'd only with my fears: I beseech your Grace Tempt me no further. _Du._ Who taught you this Lesson? _Alin._ Woful experience, Sir: if you seek a fair one, Worthy your love, if yet you have that perfect, Two Daughters of his ruin'd vertue now Arrive at Court, excellent fair indeed, Sir, But this will be the Plague on't, they're excellent honest. _Enter_ Olympia _and_ Petesca _privately_. _Du._ I love thy face. _Alin._ Upon my life ye cannot: I do not love it my self, Sir, 'tis a lewd one, So truly ill Art cannot mend it; but if 'twere handsome, At least if I thought so, you should hear me talk, Sir, In a new strain; and though ye are a Prince, Make ye Petition to me too, and wait my answers; Yet o' my Conscience I should pity ye, After some ten years siege. _Du._ Prethee do now. _Alin._ What would ye do? _Du._ Why I would lye with ye. _Alin._ I do not think ye would. _Du._ In troth I would Wench. Here, take this Jewel.