[92] _Censure._] It has been already observed, that this word is used by our old writers, where we should now use _judge_, and with the same latitude of meaning through its various acceptations.--GIFFORD. SCENE III. _A State-room in the same._ _Enter_ FIORINDA, SANAZARRO, _and_ CALAMINTA. _Sanaz._ And can it be, your bounties should fall down In showers on my ingratitude, or the wrongs Your greatness should revenge, teach you to pity? What retribution can I make, what service Pay to your goodness, that, in some proportion, May to the world express I would be thankful? Since my engagements are so great, that all My best endeavours to appear your creature Can but proclaim my wants, and what I owe To your magnificence. _Fior._ All debts are discharged In this acknowledgment: yet, since you please I shall impose some terms of satisfaction For that which you profess yourself obliged for, They shall be gentle ones, and such as will not, I hope, afflict you. _Sanaz._ Make me understand, Great princess, what they are, and my obedience Shall, with all cheerful willingness, subscribe To what you shall command. _Fior._ I will bind you to Make good your promise. First, I then enjoin you To love a lady, that, a noble way, Truly affects you; and that you would take To your protection and care the dukedom Of Urbin, which no more is mine, but yours. And that, when you have full possession of My person as my fortune, you would use me, Not as a princess, but instruct me in The duties of an humble wife, for such, The privilege of my birth no more remember'd, I will be to you. This consented to, All injuries are forgotten. _Sanaz._ I am wretched, In having but one life to be employ'd As you please to dispose it. And, believe it, If it be not already forfeited To the fury of my prince, as 'tis your gift, With all the faculties of my soul I'll study, In what I may, to serve you. _Fior._ I am happy _Enter_ GIOVANNI _and_ LIDIA. In this assurance. What sweet lady's this? _Sanaz._ 'Tis Lidia, madam, she---- _Fior._ I understand you. Nay, blush not; by my life, she is a rare one! And, if I were your judge, I would not blame you To like and love her. But, sir, you are mine now; And I presume so on your constancy, That I dare not be jealous. _Sanaz._ All thoughts of her Are in your goodness buried. _Lid._ Pray you, sir, Be comforted; your innocence should not know What 'tis to fear; and if that you but look on The guards that you have in yourself, you cannot. The duke's your uncle, sir, and, though a little Incensed against you, when he sees your sorrow, He must be reconciled. What rugged Tartar, Or cannibal, though bathed in human gore, But, looking on your sweetness, would forget His cruel nature, and let fall his weapon, Though then aim'd at your throat?