As you sit here The Deputy of the great King, who is The Substitute of that impartial Judge, With whom, or wealth, or titles prevail nothing, Grant to a much wrong'd Widow, or a Wife Your patience, with liberty to speak In her own Cause, and let me face to face To this bad man, deliver what he is: And if my wrongs, with his ingratitude ballanc'd, Move not compassion, let me die unpitied; His Tears, his Oaths, his Perjuries, I pass o're; To think of them is a disease; but death Should I repeat them. I dare not deny, (For Innocence cannot justifie what's false) But all the Advocate hath alledged concerning His falshood, and my shame, in my consent, To be most true: But now I turn to thee, To thee _Don Henrique_, and if impious Acts Have left thee blood enough to make a blush, I'le paint it on thy cheeks. Was not the wrong Sufficient to defeat me of mine honour, To leave me full of sorrow, as of want, The witness of thy lust left in my womb, To testifie thy falshood, and my shame? But now so many years I had conceal'd Thy most inhumane wickedness, and won This Gentleman, to hide it from the world, To Father what was thine (for yet by Heaven, Though in the City he pass'd for my husband, He never knew me as his wife.) _Assist_. 'Tis strange: Give him an Oath. _Oct_. I gladly swear, and truly. _Jac_. After all this (I say) when I had born These wrongs, with Saint-like patience, saw another Freely enjoy, what was (in Justice) mine, Yet still so tender of thy rest and quiet, I never would divulge it, to disturb Thy peace at home; yet thou most barbarous, To be so careless of me, and my fame, (For all respect of thine in the first step To thy base lust, was lost) in open Court To publish my disgrace? and on record, To write me up an easie-yielding wanton? I think can find no precedent: In my extreams, One comfort yet is left, that though the Law Divorce me from thy bed, and made free way To the unjust embraces of another, It cannot yet deny that this thy Son (Look up _Ascanio_ since it is come out) Is thy legitimate heir. _Jam_. Confederacie! A trick (my Lord) to cheat me; e're you give Your Sentence, grant me hearing. _Assist_. New Chimera's? _Jam_. I am (my Lord) since he is without Issue, Or hope of any, his undoubted heir, And this forg'd by the Advocate, to defeat me Of what the laws of _Spain_ confer upon me, A meer Imposture, and conspiracie Against my future fortunes. _Assist_. You are too bold. Speak to the cause _Don Henrique_. _Hen_.