Dru. O Aunt, I am bless'd.
Dio. Be not both young and cruel,
Again I beg it thus.
Dru. Thus, Sir, I grant it.
Enter Aurelia.
He's mine own now, Aunt.
Del. Not yet, Girl, thou art cozen'd.
Aur. O my dear Lord, how have I wrong'd your patience!
How wandred from the truth of my affections!
How (like a wanton fool) shun'd that I lov'd most!
But you are full of goodness, to forgive, Sir,
As I of grief to beg, and shame to take it;
Sure I was not my self, some strange illusion,
Or what you please to pardon.
Dio. All, my Dearest;
All, my Delight; and with more pleasure take thee,
Than if there had been no such dream: for certain,
It was no more.
Aur. Now you have seal'd forgiveness,
I take my leave, and the gods keep your goodness. [Exit.
Del. You see how kindness prospers; be but so kind
To marry her, and see then what new fortunes,
New joys and pleasures; far beyond this Lady,
Beyond her Greatness too.