_Mer._ Send those sad people That hate the light, and curse society; Whose thoughts are Graves, and from whose eyes continually Their melting souls drop out, send those to me; And when their sorrows are most excellent, So full that one grief more cannot be added, My Story like a torrent shall devour 'em. Hark, it must out; but pray stand close together, And let not all the world hear. _Leo._ Speak it boldly. _Mer._ And Royal Lady, think but charitably, Your Grace has known my breeding. _Qu._ Prethee speak it. _Mer._ Is there no stranger here? send off your servants, And yet it must be known: I shake. _Ag._ Sweet Mistriss. _Mer._ I am abus'd, basely abus'd; do you ghess yet? Come close, I'll tell ye plainer; I am whor'd, Ravish'd, and robb'd of Honour. _Leo._ Oh the Devil. _Ag._ What hellish Slave was this? _The._ A wretch, a wretch, A damned wretch: do you know the Villain, Lady? _Mer._ No. _The._ Not by ghess? _Mer._ Oh no. _The._ It must be known. _Qu._ Where was the place? _Mer._ I know not neither. _Ag._ O Heaven, Is this the happy time? my hope to this come? _Leo._ Neither the man nor circumstances? _The._ His tongue, Did you not hear his tongue, no voice? _Mer._ None, none Sir: All I know of him was his violence. _Ag._ How came ye hither, Sweet? _Mer._ I know not neither. _The._ A cunning piece of villany. _Mer._ All I remember Is only this: Going to _Vestas_ Temple To give the goddess my last Virgin prayers, Near to that place I was suddainly surpriz'd, By five or six disguis'd, and from thence violently To my dishonour hal'd: that Act perform'd, Brought back, but how, or whether, till I wak'd here.-- _The._ This is so monstrous, the gods cannot suffer it; I have not read in all the villanies Committed by the most obdurate Rascals, An act so truly impious. _Leo._ Would I knew him. _The._ He must be known, the Devil cannot hide him. _Qu._ If all the Art I have, or power can do it, He shall be found, and such a way of justice Inflicted on him: A Lady wrong'd in my Court, And this way rob'd, and ruin'd? _The._ Be contented Madam, If he be above ground I will have him. _Ag._ Fair virtuous Maid, take comfort yet and flourish, In my love flourish: the stain was forc'd upon ye None of your wills, nor yours; rise, and rise mine still, And rise the same white, sweet, fair soul, I lov'd ye, Take me the same.