Forgive me, I will forget the name, let it be death For me to call you Mother. _Vio_. Still upbraided? _Hen_. No way left to appease you? _Vio_. None: now hear me: Hear what I vow before the face of Heaven, And if I break it, all plagues in this life, And those that after death are fear'd fall, on me, While that this Bastard staies under my roof, Look for no peace at home, for I renounce All Offices of a wife. _Hen_. What am I faln to? _Vio_. I will not eat, nor sleep with you, and those hours, Which I should spend in prayers for your health, Shall be emploi'd in Curses. _Hen_. Terrible. _Vio_. All the day long, I'le be as tedious to you As lingring fevers, and I'le watch the nights, To ring aloud your shame, and break your sleeps. Or if you do but slumber, I'le appear In the shape of all my wrongs, and like a fury Fright you to madness, and if all this fail To work out my revenge, I have friends and kinsmen, That will not sit down tame with the disgrace That's offer'd to our noble familie In what I suffer. _Hen_. How am I divided Between the duties I owe as a Husband, And pietie of a Parent? _Asc_. I am taught Sir By the instinct of nature that obedience Which bids me to prefer your peace of mind, Before those pleasures that are dearest to me, Be wholly hers (my Lord) I quit all parts, That I may challenge: may you grow old together, And no distaste e're find you, and before The Characters of age are printed on you May you see many Images of your selves, Though I, like some false glass, that's never look'd in, Am cast aside, and broken; from this hour (Unless invited, which I dare not hope for) I never will set my forbidden feet Over your threshold: only give me leave Though cast off to the world to mention you In my devotions, 'tis all I sue for And so I take my last leave. _Hen_. Though I am Devoted to a wife, nay almost sold A slave to serve her pleasures, yet I cannot So part with all humanity, but I must Shew something of a Father: thou shalt not goe Unfurnish'd and unfriended too: take that To guard thee from necessities; may thy goodness Meet many favours, and thine innocence Deserve to be the heir of greater fortunes, Than thou wer't born to. Scorn me not _Violante_, This banishment is a kind of civil death, And now, as it were at his funeral To shed a tear or two, is not unmanly, And so farewel for ever: one word more, Though I must never see thee (my _Ascanio_) When this is spent (for so the Judge decreed) Send to me for supply: are you pleas'd now? _Vio_.