_Ron._ I apprehend you Madam, And rest assured 'tis done; I am provided Of instruments to fit you: To the King, I'll instantly present you; if I fail, He shall make good your ayms: he's less then man, That to atchieve your favor, would not do Deeds, fiends would fear to put their agents to. [_Exeunt._ _Enter_ Virolet _Reading._ Vir. _Quod invitus facis, non est scelus._ 'Tis an _axiome_, Now whether willingly I have departed With that I lov'd: with that, above her life Lov'd me again, crownd me a happy husband, Was full of children: her afflictions, That I begot, that when our age must perish, And all our painted frailties turn'd to ashes, Then shall they stand and prop[a]gate our honors. Whether this done, and taking to protection A new strange beauty, it was a useful one: How to my lust? if it be so, I am sinful; And guilty of that crime I would fling from me. Was there not in it this fair course of virtue? This pious course, to save my friends, my Countrey, That even then had put on a mourning garment, And wept the desolation of her children? Her noblest children? Did not she thrust me on, And to my duty clapt the spur of honor? Was there a way, without this woman, left me To bring 'em off? the marrying of this woman? If not, why am I stung thus? why tormented? Or had there been a wild desire joyn'd with it, How easily, both these, and all their beauties Might I have made mine own! why am I toucht thus, Having perform'd the great redemption, Both of my friends and family? fairly done it? Without base and lascivious ends; O Heaven, Why am I still at War thus? why this a mischief, That honesty and honor had propounded, I, and absolv'd my tender will, and chid me, Nay then unwillingly flung me on? _Enter_ Juliana _and the Boy._ _Boy._ He's here Madam; This is the melancholly walk he lives in, And chooses ever to increase his sadness. _Jul._ Stand by. _Vir._ 'Tis she: how I shake now and tremble! The virtues of that mind are torments to me. _Jul._ Sir, if my hated face shall stir your anger, Or this forbidden path I tread in vex you; My love, and fair obedience left behind me, Your pardon asked, I shall return and bless you. _Vir._ Pray stay a little, I delight to see you; May not we yet, though fortune have divided us, And set an envious stop between our pleasures, Look thus one at another? sigh and weep thus? And read in one anothers eyes, the Legends, And wonders of our old loves? be not fearful, Though you be now a Saint, I may adore you: May I not take this hand, and on it sacrifice The sorrows of my heart? white seal of virtue. _Jul._ My Lord, you wrong your wedlock.