Pod. Sir.
Fred. Call hither Lord Valerio, and let none trouble us.
Pod. It shall be done Sir. [Exit.
Fred. I know he wants no additions to his tortures,
He has enough for humane blood to carry,
Yet I must vex him further;
So many that I wonder his hot youth
And high-bred spirit breaks not into fury;
I must yet torture him a little further,
And make my self sport with his miseries,
My anger is too poor else. Here he comes,
Enter Val.
Now my young married Lord, how do you feel your self?
You have the happiness you ever aim'd at,
The joy and pleasure.
Val. Would you had the like Sir.
Fred. You tumble in delights with your sweet Lady,
And draw the minutes out in dear embraces,
You live a right Lords life.
Val. Would you had tryed it,
That you might know the vertue but to suffer,
Your anger though it be unjust and insolent,
Sits handsomer upon you than your scorn,
To do a wilfull ill and glory in it,
Is to do it double, double to be damn'd too.
Fred. Hast thou not found a loving and free Prince,
High in his favours too; that has confer'd
Such hearts ease, and such heaps of comfort on thee,
All thou cou'dst ask?