_Mir._ Have stronger thoughts, and better, first I crave According to the order of the Court I may dispose my Captives, and the Fort, That with a clean and purified heart The fitlier I may endue my Robe. _All._ 'Tis granted. _Enter_ Oriana _vail'd, Ladies_, Lucinda, _Child_. _Mir._ Bring the Captives. To your charge And staid tuition, my most noble friend; I then commend this Lady; start not off A fairer, and a chaster never liv'd; By her own choice you are her Guardian, For telling her I was to leave my Fort, And to abandon quite all worldly cares. Her own request was, to _Gomera_'s hands She might be given in custody, for sh'ad heard He was a Gentleman wise, and temperate, Full of humanity to Women-kind, And 'cause he had been married, knew the better How to entreat a Lady. _Val._ What Countrey-woman is she? _Mir._ Born a _Greek_. _Val. Gomera_, 'twill be barbarous to denie A Lady, that unto your refuge flies, And seeks to shrowd her under virtues wing. _Gom._ Excuse me noble Sir; oh think me not So dull a devil, to forget the loss Of such a matchless wife as I possess'd, And ever to endure the sight of woman: Were she the abstract of her sex for form, The only warehouse of perfection. Were there no Rose nor Lilly but her Cheek, No Musick but her tongue, Virtue but hers; She must not rest near me, my vow is graven, Here in my heart, irrevocably breath'd And when I break it. _Ast._ This is rudeness _Spaniard_, Unseasonably you play the _Timonist_, Put on a disposition is not yours, Which neither fits you, nor becomes you. _Gom._ Sir. _Cast._ We cannot force you, but we would perswade. _Com._ Beseech you Sir, no more, I am resolv'd To forsake _Malta_, tread a pilgrimage To fair _Jerusalem_, for my Ladies soul, And will not be diverted. _Mir._ You must bear This Child along w'ye then. _Gom._ What Child? _All._ How's this? _Mir._ Nay then _Gomera_, thou art injurious, This Child is thine, and this rejected Lady Thou hast as often known, as thine own wife, And this I'll make good on thee, with my sword. _Gom._ Thou durst as well blaspheme: if such a scandal-- (I crave the rights due to a Gentleman) Woman unvail. _Ori._ Will you refuse me yet? _Gom._ My Wife! _Val._ My Sister! _Gom._ Some body, thank Heaven I cannot speak. _All._ All praise be ever given: _Mount._ This saves our lives, yet would she had been dead; The very sight of her afflicts me more Than fear of punishment, or my disgrace. _Val._ How came you to the Temple?