Amb. Your Father was the mighty Favourite, the Count _d’Olivarez_; your Mother, _Spain’s_ celebrated Beauty, _Donna Margarita Spiniola_, by whom your Father had two natural Sons, _Don Lovis de Harro_, and your self _Don Roderigo_. The Story of his Disgrace, you know, with all the World; 320 ’twas then he being banisht from the Court, he left you to my Care then very young. I receiv’d you as my own, and as more than such educated you, and as your Father oblig’d me to do, brought you always up about their Majesties; for he hoped, if you had Beauty and Merits, you might inherit part of that Glory he lost. Mar. This is wondrous. Amb. This Truth you had not known so soon, had you not made as great an Interest at Court as any Man so young ever did, and if I had not acquitted my self in all Points as became the Friend of so great and brave a Man, as Count _d’Olivarez_: the Fortune he left you was two Millions of Crowns. Silv. Let me embrace your feet for this blest News. Is not the fair _Cleonte_ then my Sister? Amb. No, Sir, but one whom long since I design’d your Wife, if you are pleas’d to think her worthy of it. [Offers her. Silv. Without her, Sir, I do despise my Being; And do receive her as a Blessing sent From Heaven to make my whole Life happy. Amb. What say you, _Cleonte?_ Cleo. Sir, I must own a Joy greater than is fit for a Virgin to express. Mar. Generous Don _Roderigo_, receive me as your Friend, and pardon all the Fault you found in me as a Brother. [Embraces him. Silv. Be ever dear unto my Soul, _Marcel_. Mar. Now is the time to present _Hippolyta_ and _Antonio_ to my Father, whilst his Humour is so good. And you, dear Brother, I must beg to join with us in so just a Cause. Silv. You need not doubt my Power, and less my Will. Mar. Do you prepare him then, whilst I bring them in: for by this I know my Confessor has made them one. [Exit _Marcel_. Silv. Sir, I’ve a Suit to you. 321 Amb. You cannot ask what I can deny. Silv. _Hippolyta_, Sir, is married to _Antonio_, And humbly begs your Pardon for her past fault. Amb. _Antonio_ and _Hippolyta!_ oh, name them not. Enter _Antonio_ and _Hippolyta_, a Fryar, and _Marcel_. Mar. Pray, Sir, forgive them, your Honour being safe, Since Don _Antonio_ has by marrying her, Repair’d the Injury he did us all, Without which I had kill’d him. Amb. Thou art by Nature more severe than I, And if thou think’st our Honour satisfy’d, I will endeavour to forget their Faults. Ant. We humbly thank you, Sir, and beg your Blessing, At least bestow it on _Hippolyta_; For she was ever chaste, and innocent, And acted only what became her Duty; Since by a sacred Vow she was my Wife. Amb. How cam’st thou then to treat her so inhumanly? Ant. In pure revenge to Don _Marcel_ her Brother, Who forc’d my Nature to a stubbornness, Which whilst I did put on, I blush to own; And still between Thoughts so unjust, and Action, Her Virtue would rise up and check my Soul, Which still secur’d her Fame.