_Martia._ This was but duty, She did it for her Husband, and she ought it; She has had the pleasure of him, many an hour, And if one minutes pain cannot be suffer'd; Mine was above all these, a nobler venter, I speak it boldly, for I lost a Father. He has one still, I left my friends, he has many; Expos'd my life, and honor to a cruelty, That if it had seiz'd on me, racks and tortures, Alas, they are Triumphs to it: and had it hit, For this mans love, it should have shewed a triumph, Twise lost, I freed him; _Rossana_ lost before him, His fortunes with him; and his friends behind him: Twise was I rack'd my self for his deliverance, In honor first and name, which was a torture The hang-man never heard of; next at Sea, In our escape, where the proud waves took pleasure To toss my little Boat up like a bubble, Then like a meteor in the ayr he hung, Then catch'd and flung him in the depth of darkness; The Cannon from my incensed Fathers Ship, Ringing our Knell, and still as we peep'd upward, Beating the raging surge, with fire and Bullet, And I stood fixt for this mans sake, and scorn'd it; Compare but this. _Vir._ 'Tis too true; O my fortune! That I must equally be bound to either. _Jul._ You have the better and the nobler Lady, And now I am forc'd, a lover of her goodness. And so far have you wrought for his deliverance, That is my Lord, so lovingly and nobly, That now methinks I stagger in my Title. But how with honesty? for I am a poor Lady, In all my dutious service but your shadow, Yet would be just; how with fair fame and credit, I may go off; I would not be a strumpet: O my dear Sir, you know: _Vir._ O truth, thou knowest too. _Jul._ Nor have the world suspect, I fell to mischief. _Law._ Take you no care for that, here's that has done it, A fair divorce, 'tis honest too. _Pand._ The devil, Honest? to put her off? _Law._ Most honest Sir, And in this point most strong. _Pand._ The cause, the cause Sir? _Law._ A just cause too. _Pand._ As any is in hell, _Lawyer_. _Law._ For barrenness, she never brought him children. _Pand._ Why art thou not divorc'd? thou canst not get 'em, Thy neighbors, thy rank neighbors: O base jugling, Is she not young? _Jul._ Women at more years Sir, Have met that blessing; 'tis in heavens high power. _Law._ You never can have any. _Pand._ Why quick Lawyer? My Philosophical Lawyer. _Law._ The Rack has spoil'd her The distentions of those parts, hath stopt all fruitfulness. _Pand._ O I could curse.