_Lor._ At this, I might perceiue her colour change From red to pale, and then to red againe, As if disdaine and rage had faintly stroue In her confused brest for victorie. At length, hauing recal’d her spirits, She broke forth into these words; What, wilt thou Conspire with youth and frailtie, to inforce The rule of my affection ’gainst my will? Tho’ my body be confin’d his prisoner, Yet my mind is free. With that, shee charg’d mee That I neuer should hereafter vrge your suit; And this was all the comfort that I could From her with all my diligence attaine. _Nic._ Cold comfort, Wench, but ’tis the generall fault Of women all, to make shew of dislike To those they most affect: and in that hope Thou shalt to her againe: No Citie Euer yeelded at first skirmish. Before, You came but to a parley, thou shalt now Giue an assault: There’s nothing batters more A womans resolution, then rich gifts; Then goe, _Loretta_. _Lor._ 'Las, my Lord, you know—— _Nic._ Feare nothing, Wench, giue her this chaine of pearle, With it my selfe. _Lor._ My Lord, I’le see what I can doe with her, But— _Nic._ What, _Loretta_? Oh, you looke for a fee: Here, take this Gold: And if thou canst preuaile, (Harke in thine eare) When I am King—— _Lor._ I thanke your Lordship: Ha, ha, ha.— _Exit Lor._ _Nic._ This womans weaknesse was wel wrought vpon, Her words may take effect: ’Tis often seene That women are like Diamonds; nothing cuts so soone As their owne powder: yet there is one more Will make a happy second, Frier _Anthonie_ her Confessor; such men as hee Can preuaile much with credulous Penitents In causes of perswasion. Hoe, within? _Enter Seruant._ _Scan._ Your Lordship call? _Nic._ Bid Frier _Anthonie_ Come visit mee with all speed possible, I could not thinke vpon a better Agent. Their seeming sanctitie makes all their acts Sauour of Truth, Religion, Pietie, And proue that loue’s a heauenly Charitie, Without which there’s no safetie. Here he comes. _Enter_ Lisandro _like a Frier_. _Lis._ The benediction of the blessed Saints Attend your honour. _Nic._ Welcome, holy Frier. _Lis._ And crowne your wishes to your hearts desire. _Nic._ Amen, _Anthonio_, I’le say Amen to that; but yet the meanes To make mee happy, lies within thy power. _Lis._ Your Honour may command mee. _Nic._ Then ’tis thus; Thou know’st with what a generall consent Of all Sicilia I was prelected By my dread Soueraigne, to espouse the faire Yet fond _Leonida_; granting me for dower The Crowne of Sicil, after his decease. _Lis._ I hope, my Lord, there’s none dares question that.