_Clar._ We are on the Rack, uncertain expectation The greatest torture. _Lidi._ Command what you please, And you shall see how willingly we will execute. _Oli._ Then hear what for your satisfaction, And to preserve your friendship I resolve Against my self, and 'tis not to be alter'd: You are both brave gentlemen, I'le still profess it, Both noble servants, for whose gentle offers, The undeserving, and the poor _Olinda_ Is ever bound; you love both, fair, and vertuously; Would I could be so happy to content both: Which since I cannot, take this resolute answer; Go from me both contentedly, and he That last makes his return, and comes to visit, Comes to my bed. You know my will: farewel; My heart's too big to utter more: come friend. _Cal._ I'le wait on you to your Coach. [_Exeunt_ Olinda, Calista, Clarinda. _Cle._ You both look blank, I cannot blame you. _Lid._ We have our dispatches. _Clara._ I'le home. _Lid._ And I'le abroad again, Farewel. _Clara._ Farewel to ye. [_Exeunt_ Clarange, _and_ Lidian. _Cle._ Their blunted departure troubles me: I fear A suddain and a dangerous division Of their long love will follow: have you took Your leave of fair _Olinda_? _Enter_ Calista, _with a purse._ _C[al]._ She is gone Sir. _Cle._ Had you brought news _Lisander_ were return'd too, I were most happy. _Cal._ Still upon _Lisander_? _Cle._ I know he loves me, as he loves his health: And Heaven knows I love him. _Cal._ I find it so: For me you have forgot, and what I am to you. _Cle._ O think not so. If you had lost a Sister You lock'd all your delights in, it would grieve you: A little you would wander from the fondness You ow'd your husband: I have lost a friend, A noble friend, all that was excellent In man, or man-kind, was contain'd within him, That loss my wife-- _Enter_ Malfort. _Malf._ Madam, your noble Father-- A fee for my good news. _Cal._ Why? what of him Sir? _Mal._ Is lighted at the door, and longs to see you. _Calist._ Attend him hither. _Clean._ O my dear _Lisander_. But I'le be merry: let's meet him my _Calista_. _Cal._ I hope _Lisanders_ love will now be buried: My Father will bring joy enough for one moneth, To put him out of memorie. _Enter_ Dorilaus, _his arm in a scarff._ _Dor._ How do you Son? Bless my fair child, I am come to visit yee, To see what house you keep, they say you are bountifull, I like the noise well, and I come to trie it. Ne're a great belly yet? how have you trifl'd? If I had done so (Son) I should have heard on't On both sides by Saint _Denis_. _Clean._ You are nobly welcom Sir: We have time enough for that.