Enter Constantia.
Con. I'm ready,
And through a world of dangers am flown to ye.
Be full of haste and care, we are undone else:
Where are your people? which way must we travel?
For Heaven sake stay not here Sir.
Fred. What may this prove?
Con. Alas I am mistaken, lost, undone,
For ever perish'd. Sir, for Heaven sake tell me,
Are ye a Gentleman?
Con. Of this place?
Fred. No, born in Spain.
Con. As ever you lov'd honour,
As ever your desires may gain their ends,
Do a poor wretched woman but this benefit,
For I am forc'd to trust ye.
Fred. Y'ave charm'd me,
Humanity and honour bids me help ye;
And if I fail your trust.—
Con. The time's too dangerous
To stay your protestations: I believe ye,
Alas, I must believe ye: From this place,
Good noble Sir, remove me instantly,
And for a time, where nothing but your self,
And honest conversation may come near me,
In some secure place se[t]tle me: what I am
And why thus boldly I commit my credit
Into a strangers hand, the fears and dangers,
That force me to this wild course, at more leisure
I shall reveal unto you.