Jul. She must needs
(I am bound in conscience to confess) deserve much.
Vir. Nay, say beyond all these, she be so pious,
That even on slaves condemn'd she showre her benefits,
And melt their stubborn Bolts with her soft pitty,
What think you then?
Pand. For such a noble office,
At these years, I should dote my self; take heed boy.
Jul. If you be he, that have receiv'd these blessings,
And this the Lady: love her, honor her;
You cannot do too much, to shew your gratitude,
Your greatest service will shew off too slender.
Vir. This is the Lady; Lady of that bounty,
That wealth, that noble name, that all I spoke of:
The Prince Ascanio and my self, the slaves
Redeem'd, brought home, still guarded by her goodness,
And of our liberties you tast the sweetness;
Even you she has preserv'd too, lengthen'd your lives.
Jul. And what reward do you purpose? it must be a main one
If love will do it we'll all, so love her, serve her.
Vir. It must be my love.
Jul. Ha!
Vir. Mine, my only love,
My everlasting love!
Pand. How?