_Cel._ No, vertuous Mother, 'Tis for my holy health, to purchase which, They shall forget the Child of ease, soft slumbers. O my afflicted heart, how thou art tortur'd! And Love, how like a Tyrant thou reign'st in me, Commanding and forbidding at one instant; Why came I hither, that desire to have Only all liberty to make me happy? Why did'st thou bring that young man home, O _Valentine_, That vertuous Youth? why didst thou speak his goodness In such a phrase, as if all tongues, all praises Were made for him? O fond and ignorant! Why didst thou foster my affection Till it grew up to know no other Father, And then betray it? _Ab._ Can ye sing? _Cel._ Yes, Mother, My sorrows only. _Ab._ Be gone, and to the Quire then. [_Exeunt._ [_Musick singing._ SCENE IV. _Enter_ Michael _and Servant, and_ Francis. _Mich._ Hast thou enquir'd him out? _Serv._ He's not at home, Sir, His Sister thinks he's gone to th' Nunnery. _Mich._ Most likely; I'll away, an hour hence, Sirrah, Come you along with this young Gentleman, Do him all service, and fair office. _Serv._ Yes Sir. [_Exeunt._ SCENE V. _Enter_ Hylas, _and_ Sam. _Sam._ Where hast thou been, man? _Hyl._ Is there ne'r a shop open? I'll give thee a pair of Gloves, _Sam_. _Sam._ What's the matter? _Hyl._ What dost thou think? _Sam._ Thou art not married? _Hyl._ By th' mass but I am, all to be married, I am i'th' order now, _Sam_. _Sam._ To whom prithee? I thought there was some such trick in't, you stole from me, But who, for Heavens sake? _Hyl._ Ev'n the sweetest woman, The rarest Woman, _Samuel_, and the lustiest, But wondrous honest, honest as the ice, Boy, Not a bit before hand, for my life, Sirrah, And of a lusty kindred. _Sam._ But who, _Hylas_? _Hyl._ The young Gentleman and I are like to be friends again, The fates will have it so. _Sam._ Who, Monsieur _Thomas_? _Hyl._ All wrongs forgot. _Sam._ O now I smell ye, _Hylas_; Does he know of it? _Hyl._ No there's the trick I owe him; 'Tis done, Boy, we are fast 'faith, my Youth now Shall know I am aforehand, for his qualities. _Sam._ Is there no trick in't? _Hyl._ None, but up and ride, Boy: I have made no Joynture neither, there I have paid him. _Sam._ She's a brave wench. _Hyl._ She shall be as I'll use her, And if she anger me, all his abuses I'll clap upon her Cassock. _Sam._ Take heed, _Hylas_. _Hyl._ 'Tis past that, _Sam_, come, I must meet her presently, And now shalt see me a most glorious Husband. [_Exeunt._ SCENE VI.