Gom. Have you never
Heard of a Roman Lady (Oriana)
Remembred as a president for Matrons,
(Chaste ones, I pray you understand) whose husband
Tax'd for his sowre breath by his enemy,
Condemn'd his wife, for not acquainting him
With his infirmity?
Ori. 'Tis a common one;
Her answer was, having kiss'd none but him,
She thought it was a general disease
All men were subject to; but what infer you
From that my Lord?
Gom. Why, that this virtuous Lady
Had all her thoughts so fixed upon her Lord,
That she could find no spare time to sing praises
Of any other; nor would she imploy
Her husband (though perhaps in debt to years
As far as I am) for an instrument
To bring home younger men that might delight her
With their discourse, or—
Ori. What my Lord?
Gom. Their persons,
Or if I should speak plainer—
Ori. No it needs not,
You have said enough to make my innocence know
It is suspected.
Gom. You betray your self
To more than a suspition; could you else
To me that live in nothing but love to you
Make such a gross discovery, that your lust
Had sold that heart I thought mine, to Miranda?
Or rise to such a height in impudence,
As to presume to work my yielding weakness
To play for your bad ends, to my disgrace,
The Wittal, or the Pander?
Ori. Do not study
To print more wounds, (for that were tyranny)
Upon a heart that is pierced through already.
Gom. Thy heart? thou hast pierc'd through mine honor false one,
The honor of my house, fool that I was,
To give it up to the deceiving trust
Of wicked woman: for thy sake vild creature,
For all I have done well, in my life,
I have dig'd a grave, all buried in a wife;
For thee I have defi'd my constant Mistriss,
That never fail'd her servant, glorious war;
For thee, refus'd the fellowship of an Order
Which Princes, through all dangers, have been proud
To fetch as far as from Jerusalem:
And am I thus rewarded?
Vel. By all goodness,
You wrong my Lady, and deserve her not,
When you are at your best: repent your rashness,
'Twill show well in you.