Maria. Husband to me, Sir?
Duke. 'Tis in us to raise him
To honors, and his vertues will deserve 'em.
Maria. But Sir, 'tis in no Prince, nor his Prerogative,
To force a Womans choice against her heart.
Duke. True, if then you appeale to higher Justice,
Our Doom includes this clause upon refusal,
Out of your Lords revenues shall Cæsario
Assure to any, whom he takes for Wife,
The inheritance of three parts; the less remainer
Is dowry large enough to marry a daughter;
And we, by our Prerogative, which you question,
Will publickly adopt him into th'name
Of your deceas'd Alberto, that the memory
Of so approv'd a Peer may live in him
That can preserve his memory; 'less you find out
Some other means, which may as amply satisfie
His wrong, our Sentence stands irrevocable:
What think you Lords?
Omnes. The Duke is just and honorable.
Bap. Let me embrace Cæsario, henceforth ever
I vow a constant friendship.
Mentivole. I remit all former difference.
Cesar. I am too poor
In words to thank this Justice. Madam, alwayes
My studies shall be love to you, and duty.
Duke. Replies we admit none. Cæsario wait on us.
[Exeunt. Manent, Mentivole, Bap. Mari. Claris.