_Fr._ [Yes,] When I am mischievous I will believe your projects: She is gone, for ever gone, I cannot help it, My hopes and all my happiness gone with her. Gone like a pleasing dream: what mirth and j[o]llity Raigns round about this house! how every office Sweats with new joyes, can she be merry too? Is all this pleasure set by her appointment? Sure she hath a false heart then; still they grow lowder, The old mans God, his gold, has won upon her, (Light hearted Cordial Gold) and all my services That offered naked truth, are clean forgotten: Yet if she were compell'd, but it cannot be, If I could but imagine her will mine, Although he had her body. _Enter Lady and_ Wildbrain. _La._ He shall come in. Walk without doors o'this day, though an enemy, It must not be. _Wild._ You must compel him Madam. _La._ No she shall fetch him in, Nephew it shall be so. _Wild._ It will be fittest. [_Exit._ _Fr._ Can fair _Maria_ look again upon me? Can there be so much impudence in sweetness? _Enter_ Maria. Or has she got a strong heart to defie me? She comes her self: how rich she is in Jewels! Methinks they show like frozen Isicles, Cold winter had hung on her, how the Roses That kept continual spring within her cheeks Are withered with [the] old mans dull embraces! She would speak to me. I can sigh too Lady But from a sounder heart: yes, and can weep too But 'tis for you, that ever I believ'd you, Tears of more pious value than your marriage; You would encase your self, and I must credit you, So much my old obedience compels from me; Go, and forget me, and my poverty, I need not bid you, you are too perfect that way: But still remember that I lov'd _Maria_, Lov'd with a loyal love, nay turn not from me, I will not ask a tear more, you are bountiful, Go and rejoyce, and I will wait upon you That little of my life left. _Mar._ Good Sir hear me, What has been done, was the act of my obedience And not my will: forc'd from me by my parents, Now 'tis done, do as I do, bear it handsomly And if there can be more society Without dishonor to my tye of marriage Or place for noble love, I shall love you still, You had the first, the last, had my will prosper'd; You talk of little time of life: dear _Frank_, Certain I am not married for eternity, The joy my marriage brings tells me I am mortal. And shorter liv'd than you, else I were miserable; Nor can the gold and ease his age hath brought me Add what I coveted, content; go with me, They seek a day of joy, prethee let's show it, Though it be forc'd, and by this kiss believe me However, I must live at his command now, I'll dye at yours.