_Gonz._ There he is: I'll not inquire by whom his ransom's paid, I am satisfied that I have it; nor allege One reason to excuse his cruel usage, As you may interpret it: let it suffice It was my will to have it so. He is yours now, Dispose of him as you please. [_Exit._ _Ador._ Howe'er I hate him, As one preferr'd before me, being a man, He does deserve my pity. Sir!--he sleeps:-- Or he is dead?--[_kneels by him._]--No, he breathes! Come near, And, if 't be possible, without his feeling, Take off his irons.--[_His irons taken off._]--So; now leave us private. [_Exit Gaoler._ He does begin to stir; and, as transported With a joyful dream, how he stares! and feels his legs, As yet uncertain whether it can be True or fantastical. _Bert._ [_rising._] Ministers of mercy, Mock not calamity. Ha! 'tis no vision! Or, if it be, the happiest that ever Appear'd to sinful flesh! Who's here? his face Speaks him Adorni;--but some glorious angel, Concealing its divinity in his shape, Hath done this miracle, it being not an act For wolfish man. Resolve me, if thou look'st for Bent knees in adoration? _Ador._ O forbear, sir! I am Adorni, and the instrument Of your deliverance; but the benefit You owe another. _Bert._ If he has a name, As soon as spoken, 'tis writ on my heart I am his bondman. _Ador._ To the shame of men, This great act is a woman's. _Bert._ The whole sex For her sake must be deified. How I wander In my imagination, yet cannot Guess who this phoenix should be! _Ador._ 'Tis Camiola. _Bert._ Pray you, speak 't again; there's music in her name. Once more, I pray you, sir. _Ador._ Camiola, The MAID OF HONOUR. _Bert._ Cursed atheist that I was, Only to doubt it could be any other; Since she alone, in the abstract of herself, That small, but ravishing substance, comprehends Whatever is, or can be wish'd, in the Idea of a woman! O what service, Or sacrifice of duty, can I pay her, If not to live and die her charity's slave, Which is resolved already! _Ador._ She expects not Such a dominion o'er you. You must now, Which is the sum of all that she desires, By a solemn contract bind yourself, when she Requires it, as a debt due for your freedom, To marry her. _Bert._ This does engage me further; A payment! an increase of obligation. To marry her!--'twas my _nil ultra_ ever: The end of my ambition. O that now The holy man, she present, were prepared To join our hands, but with that speed my heart Wishes mine eyes might see her! _Ador._ You must swear this. _Bert._ False to Camiola! never.--Shall I now Begin my vows to you?