Ori. Yes, and their envy that live free.
Gom. How's this?
Ori. Why, she's falln into the hands of one,
So full of that, which in men we stile goodness,
That in her being his slave, she is happier far
Than if she were confirm'd the Sultan's Mistriss.
Gom. Miranda is indeed a Gentleman
Of fair desert, and better hopes, but yet
He hath his equals.
Ori. Where? I would go far,
As I am now, though much unfit for travails,
But to see one that without injury
Might be put in the scale, or paralell'd,
In any thing that's Noble, with Miranda;
His knowledge in all services of war,
And ready courage, to put into act
That knowing judgement, as you are a Soldier
You best may speak of. Nor can you deliver,
Nor I hear with delight, a better subject.
And heaven did well, in such a lovely feature
To place so chaste a mind; for he is of
So sweet a carriage, such a winning nature,
And such a bold, yet well-dispos'd behaviour;
And to all these, h'as such a charming tongue,
That if he would serve under Loves fresh colours,
What monumental Trophies might he raise,
Of his free conquests, made in Ladies favors?
Gom. Yet you did resist him, when he was
An earnest suitor to you.
Ori. Yes I did;
And if I were again sought to, I should;
But must ascribe it rather to the fate
That did appoint me yours, than any power
Which I can call mine own.
Gom. Even so?
Abd. Thanks fortune,
The plot I had to raise, in him, doubts of her,
Thou hast effected.
Ori. I could tell you too,
What cause I have to love him, with what reason.
In thankfulnes, he may expect from me,
All due observance; but I pass that, as
A benefit, for which, in my behalf,
You are his debtor.