_Ben._ 'Fore heaven, distracted for her! fare you well: I'll watch his steps; for I no joy shall find, Till I have found his cause, and calm'd his mind. [_Exit._ [_Rand._] He's overcome with joy. _Ang[e]l._ 'Tis very strange. _Rand._ Well, Sister, I must leave you; the time's busie. _Violanta_, chear you up; and I pray Heaven Restore each to their love, and health again. [_Exit._ _Viol._ Amen, Great Uncle. Mother, what a chance Unluckily is added to my woe, In this young Gentleman! _Ang[e]l._ True, _Violanta_: It grieves me much. _Doll_, go you instantly, And find out _Gerrard_; tell him his friends hap, And let him use best means to comfort him; But as his life preserve this secret still. _Viol._ Mother, I'ld not offend you: might not _Gerrard_ Steal in, and see me in the evening? _Angel._ Well, Bid him do so. _Viol._ Heavens blessing o' your heart. Do ye not call Child-bearing, Travel, Mother? _Angel._ Yes. _Viol._ It well may be, The bare-foot traveller That's born a Prince, and walks his pilgrimage, Whose tender feet kiss the remorseless stones Only, ne'er felt a travel like to it. Alas, dear Mother, you groan'd thus for me, And yet how disobedient have I been! _Angel._ Peace, _Violanta_, thou hast always been Gentle and good. _Viol. Gerrard_ is better, Mother: Oh if you knew the implicite innocency Dwells in his brest, you'ld love him like your Prayers. I see no reason but my Father might Be told the truth, being pleas'd for _Ferdinand_ To wooe himself: and _Gerard_ ever was His full comparative: my Uncle loves him, As he loves _Ferdinand_. _Angel._ No, not for the world, Since his intent is cross'd: lov'd _Ferdinand_ Thus ruin'd, and a child got out of wedlock: His madness would pursue ye both to death. _Viol._ As you please (mother:) I am now, methinks, Even in the land of ease; I'll sleep. _Angel._ Draw in The bed nearer the fire: silken rest, Tie all thy cares up. [_Exeunt._ _Enter_ Ferdinand _and_ Benvoglio _privately after him_.