_Roch._ Nay, would you make me now your debter, Sir. This is my onely child: what shee appeares, _Enter Baum. Beau._ Your Lordship well may see her education 285 Followes not any: for her mind, I know it To be far fayrer then her shape, and hope It will continue so: if now her birth Be not too meane for Charolois, take her This virgin by the hand, and call her wife, 290 Indowd with all my fortunes: blesse me so, Requite mee thus, and make mee happier, In ioyning my poore empty name to yours, Then if my state were multiplied ten fold. _Char._ Is this the payment, Sir, that you expect? 295 Why, you participate me more in debt, That nothing but my life can euer pay, This beautie being your daughter, in which yours I must conceiue necessitie of her vertue Without all dowry is a Princes ayme, 300 Then, as shee is, for poore and worthlesse I, How much too worthy! Waken me, _Romont_, That I may know I dream’t and find this vanisht _Rom._ Sure, I sleepe not. _Roch._ Your sentence life or death. _Char._ Faire Beaumelle, can you loue me? _Beau._ Yes, my Lord. 305 _Enter Nouall, Ponta. Malotine, Lilad. Aymer. All salute_ _Char._ You need not question me, if I can you. You are the fayrest virgin in _Digum_, And _Rochfort_ is your father. _Nou._ What’s this change? _Roch._ You met my wishes, Gentlemen. _Rom._ What make These dogs in doublets heere? _Beau._ A Visitation, Sir. 310 _Char._ Then thus, Faire _Beaumelle_, I write my faith Thus seale it in the sight of Heauen and men. Your fingers tye my heart-strings with this touch In true-loue knots, which nought but death shall loose. And yet these eares (an Embleme of our loues) 315 Like Cristall riuers indiuidually Flow into one another, make one source, Which neuer man distinguish, lesse deuide: Breath, marry, breath, and kisses, mingle soules Two hearts, and bodies, heere incorporate: 320 And though with little wooing I haue wonne My future life shall be a wooing tyme. And euery day, new as the bridall one. Oh Sir I groane vnder your courtesies, More then my fathers bones vnder his wrongs, 325 You _Curtius_-like, haue throwne into the gulfe, Of this his Countries foule ingratitude, Your life and fortunes, to redeeme their shames. _Roch._ No more, my glory, come, let’s in and hasten This celebration. _Rom. Mal. Pont. Bau._ All faire blisse vpon it. 330 _Exeunt Roch. Char. Rom. Bau. Mal._ _Nou._ Mistresse.