_Cam._ If I have dwelt too long on my deservings To this unthankful man, pray you pardon me; The cause required it. And though now I add A little, in my painting to the life His barbarous ingratitude, to deter Others from imitation, let it meet with A fair interpretation. This serpent, Frozen to numbness, was no sooner warm'd In the bosom of my pity and compassion, But, in return, he ruin'd his preserver, The prints the irons had made in his flesh Still ulcerous; but all that I had done, My benefits, in sand or water written, As they had never been, no more remember'd! And on what ground, but his ambitious hopes To gain this duchess' favour? _Aurel._ Yes; the object, Look on it better, lady, may excuse The change of his affection. _Cam._ The object! In what? forgive me, modesty, if I say You look upon your form in the false glass Of flattery and self-love, and that deceives you. That you were a duchess, as I take it, was not Character'd on your face; and, that not seen, For other feature, make all these, that are Experienced in women, judges of them, And, if they are not parasites, they must grant, For beauty without art, though you storm at it, I may take the right-hand file. _Gonz._ Well said, i' faith! I see fair women on no terms will yield Priority in beauty. _Cam._ Down, proud heart! Why do I rise up in defence of that, Which, in my cherishing of it, hath undone me! No, madam, I recant,--you are all beauty, Goodness, and virtue; and poor I not worthy As a foil to set you off: enjoy your conquest; But do not tyrannize. Yet, as I am, In my lowness, from your height you may look on me, And, in your suffrage to me, make him know That, though to all men else I did appear The shame and scorn of women, he stands bound To hold me as the masterpiece. _Rob._ By my life, You have shown yourself of such an abject temper, So poor and low-condition'd, as I grieve for Your nearness to me. _Fer._ I am changed in my Opinion of you, lady; and profess The virtues of your mind an ample fortune For an absolute monarch. _Gonz._ Since you are resolved To damn yourself, in your forsaking of Your noble order for a woman, do it For this. You may search through the world, and meet not With such another phoenix. _Aurel._ On the sudden I feel all fires of love quench'd in the water Of my compassion.--Make your peace; you have My free consent; for here I do disclaim All interest in you: and, to further your Desires, fair maid, composed of worth and honour, The dispensation procured by me, Freeing Bertoldo from his vow, makes way To your embraces.