Col. Why I [will] tell you;
You are a woman of a tempting beauty,
And he, however virtuous, as a man
Subject to humane frailties; and how far
They may prevail upon him, should he see you,
He is not ignorant: and therefore chooses,
With care t'avoid the cause that may produce
Some strange effect, which will not well keep ranck
With the rare temperance, which is admired
In his life hitherto.
Luc. This much increases
My strong desire to see him.
Col. It should rather
Teach you to thank the Prophet that you worship,
That you are such a mans, who though he may
Do any thing which youth and heat of blood
Invites him to, yet dares not give way to them:
Your entertainment's Noble, and not like
Your present fortune; and if all those tears
Which made grief lovely in you, in the relation
Of the sad story, that forc'd me to weep too,
Your husbands hard fate were not counterfeit;
You should rejoyce that you have means to pay
A chast life to his memory, and bring to him
Those sweets, which while he liv'd, he could not tast of;
But if you wantonly bestow them on
Another man you offer violence
To him, though dead; and his griev'd spirit will suffer
For your immodest looseness.
Luc. Why, I hope, Sir,
My willingness to look on him, to whom
I owe my life and service, is no proof
Of any unchast purpose.
Col. So I wish too,
And in the confidence it is not, Lady,
I dare the better tell you he will see you
This night, in which by him I am commanded,
To bring you to his chamber, to what end
I easily should guess, were I Miranda;
And therefore, though I can yield little reason,
(But in a general love to womens goodness)
Why I should be so tender of your honor,
I willingly would bestow some counsail of you,
And would you follow it?
Luc. Let me first hear it,
And then I can resolve you.
Col. My advice then
Is, that you would not, (as most Ladies use
When they prepare themselves for such encounters)
Study to add, by artificial dressings
To native excellence; yours (without help)
But seen as it is now, would make a Hermit
Leave his deaths head, and change his after hopes
Of endless comforts for a few short minutes
Of present pleasures; to prevent which, Lady,
Practice to take away from your perfections,
And to preserve your chastity unstain'd,
The most deform'd shape that you can put on
To cloud your bodies fair gifts, or your minds,
(It being laboured to so chast an end)
Will prove the fairest ornament.
Luc. To take from
The workmanship of Heaven is an offence
As great, as to endeavor to add to it;
Of which, I'll not be guilty: Chastity
That lodges in deformity, appears rather
A mulct impos'd by nature, than a blessing;
And 'tis commendable only when it conquers,
Though nere so oft assaulted, in resistance:
For me, I'll therefore so dispose my self,
That if I hold out, it shall be with honor;
Or if I yield, Miranda shall find something
To make him love his victory. [Exit.
Col. With what cunning
This woman argues for her own damnation!
Nor should I hold it for a miracle,
Since they are all born Sophisters to maintain
That lust is lawful, and the end and use
Of their creation: would I never had
Hop'd better of her; or could not believe,
Though seen the ruin, I must ever grieve. [Exit.