_Fred._ Sir, Thus low as my duty now compells me, I do confess my unbounded sins, my errours, And feel within my soul the smarts already; Hide not the noble nature of a Brother, The pity of a friend, from my afflictions; Let me a while lament my misery, And cast the load off of my wantonness, Before I find your fury, then strike home, I do deserve the deepest blow of Justice, And then how willingly, O death, I'le meet thee! _Alp._ Rise, Madam, those sweet tears are potent speakers, And Brother live, but in the Monastery, Where I lived, with the self same silence too, I'le teach you to be good against your will, Brother, Your tongue has done much harm, that must be dumb now; The daily pilgrimage to my Fathers Tomb, Tears, sighs, and groans, you shall wear out your daies with, And true ones too, you shall perform dear Brother; Your diet shall be slender to inforce these; too light a penance, Sir. _Fred._ I do confess it. _Alph. Sorano_ you shall-- _Sor._ How he studies for it! Hanging's the least part of my penance certain. [Evanthe _Kneels._ _Alph._ What Lady's that that kneels? _Cast._ The chaste _Evanthe_. _Alph._ Sweet, your Petition? _Evan._ 'Tis for this bad man, Sir, Abominable bad, but yet my Brother. _Alph._ The bad man shall attend as bad a Master, And both shall be confin'd within the Monastery; His rank flesh shall be pull'd with daily fasting, But once a week he shall s[m]ell meat, he will surfeit else, And his immodest mind, compell'd to prayer; On the bare boards he shall lye, to remember The wantonness he did commit in beds; And drink fair water, that will ne'r inflame him; He sav'd my life, though he purpos'd to destroy me, For which I'le save his, though I make it miserable: Madam, at Court I shall desire your company, You are wise and vertuous, when you please to visit My Brother _Frederick_, you shall have our Licence, My dear best friend, _Valerio_. _Val._ Save _Alphonso_. _Omn._ Long live _Alphonso_, King of us, and _Naples_. _Alph._ Is this the Lady that the wonder goes on? Honour'd sweet Maid, here take her my _Valerio_, The King now gives her, she is thine own without fear: Brother, have you so much provision that is good? Not season'd by _Sorano_ and his Cooks? That we may venture on with honest safety, We and our friends? _Fred._ All that I have is yours, Sir.