_And._ Shee's carryed away too. _Mir._ How? _And._ While you were absent, A crew of Monsieur _Lewis_ friends and kinsmen By force break in at th' back part of the house, And took her away by violence; faithful _Andrew_, (As this can witness for him) did his best, In her defence, but 'twould not doe. _Mir._ Away, And see our horses sadled, 'tis no time To talke, but doe: _Eustace_, you now are offer'd A spatious field, and in a pious war To exercise you[r] valour, here's a cause, And such a one, in which to fall is honourable, Your duty and reverence due to a fathers name Commanding it; but these unnatural jarres Arising betweene brothers (should you prosper) Would shame your victorie. _Eust._ I would doe much Sir, But still my reputation! _Mir._ _Charles_ shall give you All decent satisfaction; nay joyne hands, And heartily; why this is done like brothers; And old as I am, in this cause that concerns The honour of our family, Monsieur _Lewis_ (If reason cannot work) shall find and feele There's hot blood in this arme, Ile lead you bravely. _Eust._ And if I follow not, a Cowards name Be branded on my forehead. _Cha._ This Spirit makes you A sharer in my fortunes. _Mir._ And in mine, Of which (_Brisac_ once freed, and _Angellina_ Again in our possession) you shall know My heart speakes in my tongue. _Eust._ I dare not doubt it, Sir. _Exeunt._ _Actus V. Scaena II._ _Enter_ Lewis, Brisac, Angellina, Sylvia, _Officers._ _Lew._ I'me deafe to all perswasions. _Bri._ I use none, Nor doubt I, though a while my innocence suffers, But when the King shall understand how false Your malice hath inform'd him, he in justice Must set me right againe. _Ang._ Sir, let not passion So far[r]e transport you as to think in reason, This violent course repaires, but ruins it; That honour you would build up, you destroy; What you would seeme to nourish, if respect Of my preferment or my patern May challenge your paternal love and care, Why doe you, now good fortune has provided A better husband for me than your hopes Could ever fancy, strive to robb me of him? In what is my Lord _Charles_ defective Sir? Unless deep learning be a blemish in him, Or well proportion'd limbs be mulcts in Nature, Or what you onely aim'd at, large revenewes Are on the sudden growne distastful to you, Of what can you accuse him? _Lew._ Of a rape Done to honour, which thy ravenous lust Made the consent to. _Syl._ Her lust! you are her father. _Lew._ And you her Bawd. _Syl._ Were you ten Lords, 'tis false, The pureness of her chaste thoughts entertains not Such spotted instruments. _Ang._ As I have a soule Sir. _Lew._ I am not to be alter'd; to sit downe With this disgrace, would argue me a Peasant, And not borne noble: all rigour that the Law And that encrease of power by favour yeelds, Shall be with all severity inflicted; You have the Kings hand for't; no Bayle will serve, And therefore at your perils Officers, away with 'em.