Ron. To me Virolet?
Vir. To you, yet will not beg the courtesie,
But largely pay you for it.
Ron. To the purpose.
Vir. The forty thousand crowns the King hath given me,
I will bestow on you, if by your means
I may have liberty for a divorce
Between me and my wife.
Ron. Your Juliana?
That for you hath indur'd so much, so nobly?
Vir. The more my sorrow; but it must be so.
Ron. I will not hinder it: without a bribe,
For mine own ends, I would have further'd this.
I will use all my power.
Vir. 'Tis all I aske:
Oh my curs'd fate, that ever man should hate
Himself for being belov'd, or be compell'd
To cast away a Jewel, Kings would buy,
Though with the loss of Crown and Monarchy! [Exeunt.
Enter Sesse, Master, Boatswain, Gunner.
Sesse. How do I look?