_Coz._ You know our temper, And therefore with more boldness venture on it: And, would not our consent to your demands Deprive us of a happiness hereafter Ever to be despair'd of, we, perhaps, Might hearken nearer to you; and could wish With some qualification, or excuse, You might make less the mountains of your crimes, And so invite our clemency to feast with you. But you, that knew with what impatiency Of grief we parted from the fair Clarinda, Our duchess, (let her memory still be sacred!) And with what imprecations on ourself We vow'd, not hoping e'er to see her equal, Ne'er to make trial of a second choice, If nature framed not one that did excel her, As this maid's beauty prompts us that she does:-- And yet, with oaths then mix'd with tears, upon Her monument we swore our eye should never Again be tempted;--'tis true, and those vows Are register'd above, something here tells me.-- Carolo, thou heard'st us swear. _Char._ And swear so deeply, That if all women's beauties were in this, (As she's not to be named with the dead duchess,) Nay, all their virtues bound up in one story, (Of which mine is scarce an epitome,) If you should take her as a wife, the weight Of your perjuries would sink you. If I durst, I had told you this before. _Coz._ 'Tis strong truth, Carolo: And yet what was necessity in us Cannot free them from treason. _Char._ There's your error: The prince, in care to have you keep your vows Made unto Heaven, vouchsafed to love my daughter[94]. Surely Massinger intended that his characters should here be understood as speaking the truth. The contrivance by which he exculpates Giovanni is a clumsy one; but he was anxious to conclude his play, and took the first that suggested itself. Awkward as it may appear to the reader, it has, perhaps, quite enough dramatic probability to satisfy an audience _Lid._ He told me so, indeed, sir. _Fior._ And the count Averr'd as much to me. _Cos._ You all conspire, To force our mercy from us. _Char._ Which given up, To aftertimes preserves you unforsworn: An honour which will live upon your tomb When your greatness is forgotten. _Coz._ Though we know All this is practice[95], and that both are false, Such reverence we will pay to dead Clarinda, And to our serious oaths, that we are pleased With our own hand to blind our eyes, and not Know what we understand. Here, Giovanni, We pardon thee; and take from us, in this, More than our dukedom: love her. As I part With her, all thoughts of women fly fast from us. Sanazarro, we forgive you: in your service To this princess, merit it. Yet let not others That are in trust and grace, as you have been, By the example of our lenity, Presume upon their sovereign's clemency. _Enter_ CALANDRINO _and_ PETRONELLA. _All._ Long live great Cozimo!