_Vit._ Spoke like that true friend That loves not only for his private end. [_Exeunt._ _Scæna Secunda._ _Enter_ Genevora, _with a Letter and_ Bobadilla. _Gen._ This from _Madona Clara_? _Bob._ Yes, an't please you. _Gen. Alvarez_ daughter? _Bob._ The same, Lady. _Gen._ She, That sav'd my brothers life? _Bob._ You are still in the right, She wil'd me wait your walking forth: and knowing How necessary a discreet wise man Was in a business of such weight, she pleas'd To think on me: it may be in my face Your Ladyship, not acquainted with my wisdom, Finds no such matter: what I am, I am; Thought's free, and think you what you please. _Gen._ 'Tis strange. _Bob._ That I should be wise, Madam? _Gen._ No, thou art so; There's for thy pains: and prethee tell thy Lady I will not fail to meet her: I'll receive Thy thanks and duty in thy present absence: Farewell, farewell, I say, now thou art wise. [_Exit Bob._ She writes here, she hath something to impart That may concern my brothers life; I know not, But general fame does give her out so worthy, That I dare not suspect her: yet wish _Lucio_, _Enter_ Lucio. Were Master of her mind: but fie upon't; Why do I think on him? see, I am punish'd for it, In his unlook'd for presence: Now I must Endure another tedious piece of Courtship, Would make one forswear curtesie. _Luc._ Gracious Madam, The sorrow paid for your just anger towards me Arising from my weakness, I presume To press into your presence, and despair not An easie pardon. _Gen._ He speaks sence: oh strange. _Luc._ And yet believe, that no desire of mine, Though all are too strong in me, had the power For their delight, to force me to infringe What you commanded, it being in your part To [l]essen your great rigor when you please, And mine to suffer with an humble patience What you'l impose upon it. _Gen._ Courtly too. _Luc._ Yet hath the poor, and contemn'd _Lucio_, Madam, (Made able only by his hope to serve you) Recover'd what with violence, not justice, Was taken from him: and here at your feet With these, he could have laid the conquer'd head Of _Lamorall_ ('tis all I say of him) For rudely touching that, which as a relique I ever would have worship'd, since 'twas yours. _Gen._ Valiant, and every thing a Lady could Wish in her servant. _Luc._ All that's good in me, That h[e]avenly love, the opposite to base lust, Which would have all men worthy, hath created; Which being by your beams of beauty form'd, Cherish as your own creature.