_Cam._ If Bertoldo had Punish'd Fulgentio's insolence, it had shown His love to her whom, in his judgment, he Vouchsafed to make his wife; a height, I hope, Which you dare not aspire to. The same actions Suit not all men alike;--but I perceive Repentance in your looks. For this time, leave me; I may forgive, perhaps forget, your folly: Conceal yourself till this storm be blown over. You will be sought for; yet, if my estate [_Gives him her hand to kiss._ Can hinder it, shall not suffer in my service. [_Exit_ ADORNI. This gentleman is of a noble temper; And I too harsh, perhaps, in my reproof: Was I not, Clarinda? _Clar._ I am not to censure Your actions, madam; but there are a thousand Ladies, and of good fame, in such a cause Would be proud of such a servant. _Cham._ It may be; _Enter a Servant._ Let me offend in this kind. Why, uncall'd for? _Serv._ The signiors, madam, Gasparo and Antonio, Selected friends of the renown'd Bertoldo, Put ashore this morning. _Cam._ Without him? _Serv._ I think so. _Cam._ Never think more then. _Serv._ They have been at court, Kiss'd the king's hand; and, their first duties done To him, appear ambitious to tender To you their second service. _Cam._ Wait them hither. [_Exit Servant._ Fear, do not rack me! Reason, now, if ever, Haste with thy aids, and tell me, such a wonder As my Bertoldo is, with such care fashion'd, Must not, nay, cannot, in Heaven's providence _Enter_ ANTONIO _and_ GASPARO. So soon miscarry!--pray you, forbear; ere you take The privilege, as strangers, to salute me, (Excuse my manners,) make me first understand How it is with Bertoldo. _Gasp._ The relation Will not, I fear, deserve your thanks. _Ant._ I wish Some other should inform you. _Cam._ Is he dead? You see, though with some fear, I dare inquire it. _Gasp._ Dead! Would that were the worst; a debt were paid then, Kings in their birth owe nature. _Cam._ Is there aught More terrible than death? _Ant._ Yes, to a spirit Like his; cruel imprisonment, and that Without the hope of freedom. _Cam._ You abuse me[160]: The royal king cannot, in love to virtue, (Though all springs of affection were dried up,) But pay his ransom. _Gasp._ When you know what 'tis, You will think otherwise: no less will do it Than fifty thousand crowns. _Cam._ A petty sum, The price weigh'd with the purchase: fifty thousand! To the king 'tis nothing. He that can spare more To his minion for a masque, cannot but ransom Such a brother at a million. You wrong The king's magnificence. _Ant._ In your opinion; But 'tis most certain: he does not alone In himself refuse to pay it, but forbids All other men. _Cam._ Are you sure of this? _Gasp._ You may read The edict to that purpose, publish'd by him; That will resolve you.