Lady. What friend, good my Lord?
Orl. Your Montague, Madam, he will shortly want
Those Courtly graces that you love him for;
The means wherewith he purchased this, and this;
And all his own provisions to the least
Proportion of his feeding, or his clothes,
Came out of that inheritance of land
Which he unjustly lived on: but the law
Has given me right in't, and possession; now
Thou shalt perceive his bravery vanish, as
This Jewell does from thee now, and these Pearls
To him that owes 'em.
Lady. Ye are the owner Sir of every thing that does belong to me.
Orl. No, not of him, sweet Lady.
Lady. O good [God]!
Orl. But in a while your mind will change, and be
As ready to disclaim him; when his wants
And miseries have perish'd his good face,
And taken off the sweetness that has made
Him pleasing in a womans understanding.
La. O Heaven, how gratious had Creation been
To women, who are born without defence,
If to our hearts there had been doors through which
Our husbands might have lookt into our thoughts,
And made themselves undoubtfull.
Orl. Made 'em mad.
La. With honest women.
Orl. Thou dost still pretend
A title to that virtue: prethee let
Thy honesty speak freelie to me now.
Thou know'st that Montague, of whose Land
I [a]m the master, did affect thee first,
And should have had thee, if the strength of friends
Had not prevail'd above thine own consent.
I have undone him; tell me how thou dost
Consider his ill fortune and my good.